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#however- mhm
stellewriites · 5 days
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hello just saw speak no evil and it has got my thoughts GOING,, i think an au is on the horizon for it
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shoyoist · 11 months
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thinking of rindou rn ... 💓 i so have a thing for boys that are spoilt little brothers.
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hannahwashington · 11 days
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looking through lists of south african movies on letterboxd to log the ones I've seen and remembered that leon schuster is a guy that exists, and not only that but many people consider him a national treasure, and now i want to blow things up with my mind
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angeltism · 5 months
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g. guys what if I made an ocgram
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venusandsaturnsrings · 11 months
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hello!! i found your fic on ao3 for inceltaru a couple days ago and i’ve been OBSESSED!! i love how you write and how you hit the mark for everything!! anyway happy early birthday!!!
- 🦈
WAHHHHHH THANK YOU!! it’s not often i cross post to ao3 but i should do it more T^T all of the comments there are always so very nice to me!! i’m rlly glad you like him, he’s my silly greasy guy that i’m obsessed!! my wet towel man!! anons like this are my fav to receive im givin u a big ol kissy!! mwah!!
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gloomedhands · 1 year
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sighs, thinking about the first time Dakara met Ne'veadon and she absolutely throttled his cocky ass physically and verbally and he just fell in love right then and there i think
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satorena · 10 days
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( P*SSY GOT ) P☆WER !?
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bad ☆ summary. converting a loser into a munch wasn’t on your yearly bingo card ( or was it ? )
content ★ warnings. explicit content. mdni. foul language. situationship!gojo. college au. cunningulus. frōtting. premature ejaculātion. fīngering. eventual smut. gojo pines for like 99% of the fic. he also studies in pornology. reader is kinda bratty. mention of death lightheartedly. a lot of italicized words. lowkey gojo centric? 6.4k words (bye).
rena’s ☆ note. SATORENA COMEBACK … sorta (・・?)
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“gimme a kiss.”
your face scrunches before the words can express your distaste. with your hand on the handle of his car’s door, your fingers tighten around the metal bar, half tempted to leave the man at your left— rosy lips puckered into an obnoxious smooch.
his eyelids are shut tight as his brows furrow to the centre of his forehead, face leaned in. you chuckle at his theatrics, lifting your free hand to press your digits at his pucker. his eyelids open as his brows now loosen, “gojo, bye.”
you feel his hands wrap around your wrist, gently lifting your hand off his mouth, though your fingers hover over his lips still, “girl.” he tilts his head to the side, emitting an aura of sass you’ve yet to understand, “it’s satoru to you— i can’t even have a little one? haven’t i been good all day?”
you click your tongue, “you been runnin’ your mouth all day long actually,” and before your mind can even process your following words, you focus on the way his plump lips fall into another one of his childish pouts. cute. however he chooses to take your invitation is all up to him. your eyes dart to the rosy flesh as you hum, “mhm, if only you ate pussy as good as you talk shit.”
you feel the hold on your wrist drop, as his frown switches to a blank stare. you cock a brow, watching as the hand his steering wheel tightens.
he gulps, eyes narrowing before glancing over to the leather wheel, “i, uh, don’t eat pussy.”
oh. . . oh.
the slam of the car door speaks the rest for you.
“woah— hey!” gojo yells after you, though your figure seems to get smaller with the steps you take. in your hold is your purse, bouquet of flowers he’d bought earlier and house keys. “baby, hold on— this damn window,” he cusses, removing the barrier between you and him angrily. you hadn’t even hesitated to exit the car, as if he’d said the world’s most vile comment.
you’re not listening, and for some reason gojo feels his heart sink to the bottom of his stomach. what the fuck had he said that made you all upset with him?
he watches helplessly as you insert your key into the hole. the chiming sounds of your keys serve as a reminder that he was definitely in trouble. that and he wasn’t getting his damn goodbye kiss.
he sighs instead, albeit defeatedly. “am i at least gonna see you soon?”
the front door opens and you look back over your shoulder, and god— he really thought he had it. his lips threaten to pull into a smile, ready for your little mood to be over with.
you grin and as does he. you even give him a cute wave, thank fuck, “have yourself a nice life, baby.”
and the front door closes. damn.
☆ ☆
“you said what?!”
gojo groans into the phone, sprawling himself on his king sized mattress that suddenly feels way to big for him alone. where were you when he needed you? oh that’s right, “she ghosted me! i’m blocked on all socials— can you believe that?”
he tried reaching out to you through texts to make sure you were feeling okay, but the shade of green told him everything he needed to know— especially as an apple user. he then proceeded to go through your social media, to double check his suspicions and there it was, user not found.
“uh, duh?” geto is as judgemental as ever, and gojo doesn’t try to suppress the roll of his eyes. “bro, you just told the girl you’re talkin’ to that you don’t give head. the fuck d’you think was gonna happen?”
“it’s not even a big deal!” he argues because his pride in on the line, and he ignores the groan geto gives him across the phone. rude. his fingers pinch at the top of his nose bridge, “was it really necessary to block me? literally just tell me to kill myself at this point.”
“pretty sure that’s what she blocked you for.” geto snickers, and gojo realizes he’s lucky they aren’t in person because he would have blocked him. instead he whines, pressing the speaker button before stuffing his face in his pillow. he’s probably insane but he swears there’s a hint of your scent there, and now he’s whining louder.
“quit bitchin’. you brought this upon yourself,” and out of spite, gojo whines louder. if his legs kick against his mattress childishly, it’s nobody’s business but his own. the love of his life just walked out of his life— give him a break. “and dude, no shade but do you really not eat pussy? are you gay or somethin’?”
“i am not—” he cuts himself off once the sound of his own voice echoes loudly in his lonely room. geto winces and gojo bites down on his tongue before sighing. “i’m not gay. i love women only. seriously. how does not eating pussy make me gay?”
the line goes quiet, and gojo can tell geto’s making that face he makes whenever he’s finding the right words to say without offending gojo. it ticks him off. “alright, lemme counter that question with one of my own. why don’t you eat pussy?”
gojo pauses. he tightens his fingers around his pillow as the question ponders. he thinks about having received head in the back of his car once, the other time in the bathroom of some frat party, and another in some girl’s bedroom. from all memories, he draws a similar conclusion— they always come onto him first.
“i dunno.” his lips fall into a pout, tracing patterns into his pillowcase with his index. “they never really ask, so i never bothered. that can’t be weird, right? all of my hookups have consisted of them pulling my pants down. why would i refuse? i get my nut and that’s that.”
and because geto is genuinely never on his side, “satoru . . . eugh.” some kind of best friend is he.
“what?!” he hisses in retaliation, glaring at his phone as if it would solve his issues. there’s nothing he hates more than feeling judged. “you fucking asked!”
“calm the fuck down,” he hears geto rolling his eyes. the white haired man huffs, the blow of air pushing his bangs up before they fall back down. okay, maybe he should calm down. whatever. “so essentially what you’re saying is you’ve never been put in a position where you could eat pussy?”
something like that, “sure.” gojo nods, and he doesn’t understand why geto sighs.
“why do i even bother?” though the answer is clear, he’s pretty sure geto was talking to himself. gojo clicks his tongue, ready to bark back but geto beats him to it. “so tell her just that— it’s not that you won’t give head, it’s just that you haven’t given head. which still blows me, but whatever.”
“how? remember she blocked me on everything?” the thought makes gojo whine again, throwing his limbs all over his bed. he hits his phone, then opts to grab it. “is that not entitlement? i have to bend my back all over the damn place just to get her to talk to me again?”
“satoru, you’ve literally done the same thing. don’t act like you’re above it,” geto chuckles and gojo hears shuffling in the background. the ravenette sighs in relief, and he assumes he’s now in his own bed. “besides, you fuckin’ love women who give you challenges.”
and fuck, he’s really not wrong. “yeahhh, you know me so well.” he wipes a fake tear from his eye. he rolls over onto his back, “welp, i’m gonna log into your insta to stalk her account. i miss her so much i’m literally gonna die.”
“satoru.” geto warns him, but gojo is quicker than that. he’s already typing your name into the search bar, username memorized as if it were his cellphone number.“i swear to god if you accidentally like her shit—”
“thanks bestie, love ya lots!” and he hangs up the phone. and with a shit eating grin, he giggles, “time to start lurking.”
☆ ☆
so it’s been months (read: four days) since he last seen you. he’s thankful you’re at least in two of his courses, so he has some sort of opportunity to reach you. he’d spent the last months (hours) stalking your page, viewing your stories to see if there’d been any indicator that you missed him as badly as he missed you.
and all he’s gotten so far is that you spent friday out to dinner (with him) (it was just a mirror pic of your outfit but an outfit you wore on a date with him) (you love him so bad), you had a girls’ night on saturday with shoko and utahime (he barely registered they were in the selfie) and sunday was a study sesh you had at the cafe across the college. he had to screenshot and zoom in to ensure there were no signs of living souls in the same booth as you.
he was still in the clear. whew.
and so monday morning falls, and he’s actually rushing to get to class for once (late but as expected). the one of two classes he shares with you. he hopes he’ll find you sitting in your habitual seat, not too far up close yet not too far back, and he might pull the fire alarm if he spots anybody next to you.
he’s a man on a mission— he’s going to talk to you today. he needs to be back in your good graces. there were many things he wanted to yap to you about, many places he thought of taking you over the weekend, many moments he wanted your soft lips back on his and your gentle hand back in his own.
he misses you, damn it.
there you sit, in all your glory, shining so bright in the middle of this depressing ass psychology course in the early hours of the butt fuck morning. he sees you twirling your pen in between your fingers, your cheek leaned into the palm of your hand— and nobody by your side.
if he rushes and trips over his feet momentarily to get to you in time, it’s nobody’s business but his own (and the girl who’s backpack laid useless on the floor. hazard much.)
he so much as plops into the seat as he does actually sit in it, and he watches as you jerk in surprise. though, the look of surprise is quickly replaced by aloofness. you feel different— not entirely closed off but not as welcoming as you usually are. you’re probably still done with him.
well it’s too damn bad he’s not done with you, “good morning, princess.”
you blink at him, before nodding your head curtly. “morning, gojo.” and you turn your focus back onto the professor. just like that, you shut down another conversation.
he doesn’t like that, and so he pokes at your side and chews at his strawberry gum. “you blocked me on everything.”
“i did.” you answer shortly, though your eyes never leave the professor. he cannot be that interesting, who actually gives a fuck about cognitive dissonance?
“seen this new bakery shop down the street.” he tries again. “wanted to take you but that was impossible because somebody blocked me.”
“i mean, you know where i live.” you shrug, writing whatever the fuck the professor had mentioned in your notebook. wait, what? you turn your head to see him gaping at you in confusion, and you smirk at his silence.
“cat got your tongue?” you quip, amused by his stillness. your eyes sparkle mischievously, though your smile isn’t entirely full. don’t tell him, you’ve been— “too bad it’s not mine, though.”
ohhh, you cheeky brat.
“so. . . you were never really mad at me?” gojo blinks, his mind running miles a second. nothing was adding up, he was positively certain you were cutting ties with him. “this whole time. you weren’t mad about the pussy eating comment?”
“don’t get it twisted,” you raise a brow, crossing your arms over your chest. you lift a finger in the air before pointing at him, “you,” and then pointing at yourself “and i are done. we can still be cool but i’m not wasting my time with no bitch—respectfully.”
“so you are mad?” he asks again, disregarding the bitch comment. he knows what he’s supposed to say— to clarify the situation, to make it known that it’s not like he’s repulsed by the idea of giving head— but you make it so hard to stay on track when you’re acting defiant.
suguru was right— he does love a challenge.
“mad?” you giggle, and gojo leans back in his seat. damn, you’re confusing. stone cold one minute but all giggly the next. it’s cool, he’ll figure you out. “i ain’t trippin’ baby— if you don’t wanna eat it then don’t. another man definitely will.”
huh, “oh?” his eyes narrow just slightly, though the smirk on his lips never falter. he ignores the way his stomach just dropped to his ass at your implication— there is no way in hell is he letting another man have you. not when he’s still alive and breathing. “if you think i’m letting that happen, you’ve got another thing comin’.”
“everything seems to be coming but me,” you bat your lashes, and damn he fell right into that one. you drop your pen down, giving him one last smile before redirecting your focus to the professor before you. “the real question is what do you plan on doing ‘bout that?”
you give him no time to respond, and it’s not like he thinks he would be able to, as you begin to pack your belongings into your tote bag. you’re leaving and he barely got to say what he’d been memorizing all weekend. oh well, at least he now knows you haven’t entirely cut him off.
if he doesn’t knows better, it feels like you want him to chase after you.
god, he thinks he’s in love.
☆ ☆
gojo satoru is amazing at everything. there truly isn’t something he can do that won’t come out spectacular. he’s gifted, that he knows much, and it’s difficult to stay humble when he’s constantly reminded of so.
“i can easily do this shit.” he mumbles to himself, cerulean eyes narrowing into focus at the bright lit screen of his ipad. his airpods are in, and he’s gonna be completely honest— the pornstar’s screaming is starting to get on his nerve. however, he’s always been an exceptional student and when it’s time to lock in, it’s time to lock in.
his legs feel as though they’ve fallen asleep in the criss-cross position he’s been sat in on his bed for the past two hours. irrelevant, he decides as he picks at his bottom lip with his fingers. his device is running hot with how long it’s been since it last caught a break, but he had bigger issues to worry about. so, basically all he has to do is spread open her lips and go to town until she squirts? sounds simple enough.
he watches as the guy begins motorboating into the girl’s pussy and— “damn, that looks like it hurts.” a grimace creeps onto his face as the guy repeatedly goes ham on swollen red lips. he’s got half a mind telling him that the moans the girl’s letting out are entirely out of agony and not pleasure.
“aaaalrighty,” gojo speaks up, though to himself. “next video, that shit was ass. pussy hurts just thinkin’ bout it, eugh.”
he finds an amateur video, and the thumbnail seemed intimate enough. after an agonizing ad of ‘want a quick break from the ads?’, the video begins. the upper half of the woman’s body is cut out of frame, but she’s laid onto her side, her backside in view. her top leg lifted just slightly, the man lays on his stomach and spreads them apart further and begins to lick.
he dives his tongue inside her cunt, not too sloppy, and gently works his way in. his thumb is caressing at her puckered forbidden zone, always gently, as his tongue glides up and down her labia.
gojo gulps. the girl makes soft sounds, hand coming down to play her the man’s hair, and he proceeds eat her out skillfully. her back arches, she whines and begs for more, and he never loses control. at some point, the hand that focused on her asshole moves up to grip at her cheeks, thus spreading her pussy lips further. she’s already wet from a mixture of fluids, and the sound it creates is so damn obscene.
gojo gulps again, and his sweats feel tight.
before his mind can even allow it, he’s thinking of you. he thinks of you on your side, legs spread open for his disposition as he brings you this same pleasure. as he lays himself on his stomach, munching at your pussy in ways that’ll have you squirming all over his bed, squeezing your plush thighs around his head and begging for him to give you more.
he thinks of how good you’d smell— how good you’d taste. he thinks of how nice you smell whenever you wrap your arms around his neck and he follows suit around your waist. he thinks of how sweet your lips taste when you’re straddling his thighs and slipping your tongue in his mouth.
pheromones are a crazy thing. your scent lingering in his car alone drives him insane. he’s so prone to boners around you, it’s like he’s a dog you’ve trained.
and now he’s thinking he wants you in this very bed at this very instance, ipad be damned, pussy spread open so he can feast. so he can relish the sounds you make as you call out his name, enamoured by the way his tongue would flick at your clit and break open that dam of water right onto his face.
“shit.” he chucks his ipad onto the floor, cradling his head into the palms of his hands. how had he not ever wanted to do this before?
☆ ☆
he doesn’t expect you to pick up. it’s far past two in the morning on a thursday night, and he’s missing you. badly. he misses you and your sweet smile. he misses you and your smart mouth. he misses you and the way your lips move so fluidly against his own, as if they were made for one another.
he really doesn’t expect you to pick up.
it’s around the fifth ring that he hears your honeyed voice, “hi.” his eyes widen as he sits up from his bed in a hurry. talk about a damn surprise.
“hey.” he says back lamely, because of course he does. he feels the corner of his lips tugging into a smile and his heart is beating wildly against his rib cage. “didn’t think you’d answer.”
“mhm. so what’d you call me for?” you sound tired, and he wonders if you’d been sleeping when he called. somehow, the thought makes his stomach churn at the implication you cut off hours of sleep for him.
“just wanted to hear your voice.” gojo answers as honestly as he can, leaning down to rest his back back into the mattress of his bed. he shuts his eyes and imagines his arm falling asleep underneath your head, using him as a pillow. “been missin’ you.”
“you literally see me every other day at school,” he’s graced with the harmonious sounds of your giggles, and he can already picture the way your shoulders shake as dimples curve into your cheeks. “y’re so fuckin’ clingy.”
he supposes he is, can’t even find it in him to disagree. you’ve been plaguing his mind since you cut him off (question mark) last week. he wasn’t sure what kind of ban you were putting on him, but he’s been tiptoeing around his relationship with you for too long. the absence of your presence in the way he craves is driving him nuts. he misses you, damn it.
a longing sigh rips from his throat, “can’t help that i miss that ass,” he jokes instead because talking about feelings and vulnerability is wrong. “you still owe me a goodbye kiss, y’know? just left a poor guy hangin’, rude.”
“hmm,” you hum lazily and he isn’t sure what to expect. he’s just talking out of his ass, wants to restore that playful banter you guys had prior to this whole pussy eating mess— which he’d gladly now get on his knees and rock your fucking world. “like i said already, you know where i live.”
“you got one more time to say that before i show up at your doorstep for real,” gojo tests the waters, and swings his legs off his bed. he’s waiting for a sign, confirmation, anything to ensure you were being serious. late night be damned, he will show up to your door and flip your shit right then and there.
“the fuck i gotta repeat myself for?” you sigh, and gojo’s slipping his shoes on. he’s wasting no more time, he wants you right now. “if you really missed me you would have been come see me. you’re all talk.”
“so when i yell at your doorstep to lemme eat it, don’t start lookin’ at me crazy—i’m warning ya.” and with that he hangs up. he’s not leaving any more room for debates, enough’s enough. and shit, when the fuck had he gotten bricked?
he grabs his keys and slams his door close.
☆ ☆
you’re looking at him like he grew an extra head on his shoulders overnight. he’s looking at you like the tee you have on your body decimated his entire bloodline. there’s a heavy silence between you both, as if either one of you are expecting the other to make the first move.
“you actually came.” you blink in mild shock, neck craning up to look him dead in the eye. he’s panting heavily, he might’ve ran here the second he could, but how could he not have?
“enough games, baby.” gojo answers instead and takes a step into your apartment. you back up in retaliation, and he takes another close step. you stay still this time. his hands sneak below the hem of your shirt and slide up to your bare waist, grabbing onto the plush flesh. you feel jolts of electricity imbedded into your skin with every lingering touch. “lemme eat it, come on. please?”
“oh?” you cock an eyebrow, raising a hand to press your palm flat against the plane of his chest. you feel his heartbeat thudding wildly. “and here i thought you were too good to stoop as low as giving women head.”
gojo clicks his tongue and tightens his hold on you. “i never said that.”
“you basically did.” you bite back, tilting your head to the side. you see his nostrils flare a bit, “or does that rule apply with just me?”
“if it did, would i be here at three in the morning begging to eat your pussy?” gojo rolls his eyes. you open your mouth but snap it back shut and gojo decides you conceded. he lifts you from the ground and places you on his shoulder, ignoring your ‘put me down!’ and opts to shut you up with a firm slap on your ass.
your cheeks jiggle from the impact, and his dick twitches in his briefs. as he suspected, you’ve got no bottoms on— just a cute pair of pink lace panties he wants to tear apart with his teeth. animalistic is what you make him.
“so. . . which one is your room?” he finds himself in the corridor, arm wrapped around the back of your knees. you fall limp in his hold, defeatedly as your arm lifts to point at the door at the end of the hall. he smirks and rubs at your booty, “atta girl. look at ya bein’ all obedient and shit.”
“shut up.” you huff, and he would bet a million dollars you’ve got that adorable pout on your lips. the one you make whenever you don’t get something done the way you planned.
your bedroom is everything he expected from you, fits your personality just about right. but—respectfully, fuck your bedroom. he’s got bigger issues to address, and that can only be done with your panties on the floor and a mouth full of your cunt. his dick is twitching uncontrollably at the thought of it alone.
“if you drop me on this bed, i swear i’m gonna kill you.” tilting your head, you warn him once he stands next to the edge of your bed frame. though a moot point, because if you know gojo as well as you think you do, you’re about to meet your duvets face first.
“mhm, what was that?” cupping a hand behind his ear, he pretends innocence then proceeds to do exactly what you warned him not to do. him and his long ass limbs, manhandling you all over the damn place as if its in his birthright. and no, it does not make your cunt clench, despite your thighs rubbing one against another. “sorry shortie, think i missed what you said.”
when you’re finally able to gain composure, you sit up on your elbows and furrow your brows in the nastiest scowl you can muster. he stands right above you, his frame so large it both annoys and turns you on. “gojo, you stupid fucking—”
you want to slap the smile off his face. “yeah, yeah.” he cuts you off, before leaning down to hover over you. his arms are pinned at your side, upper body pressing against yours. you feel the weight of his hips pressing into your legs, and so you widen the space. he fits in just as perfectly as you’d imagined he would. the tip of his nose brushes yours, biceps flexing in your peripherals. you feel his breath fanning at your cupid’s bow, warm yet it leaves shivers creeping at your spine.
“think you owe me somethin’, princess.” his voice comes out in a low growl, from the depths of his chest. his presence is so dominating— his bulge pressed right up against your aching cunt, the feel of his heartbeat right against yours. it all feels dizzying, the scent of his cologne filling up your nostrils and clouding any better sense of judgement.
he’s teasing you— leans in, brushes his soft lips against yours and watches as you lean forward to capture them but pulls away just in nick of time. he loves every one of your facial expressions, especially that adorable scowl of yours. he can’t wait to see the faces you make when you’re in absolute bliss.
he tilts his head just slightly, practically mouthing the words into your parted mouth. and with a low chuckle, he speaks, “if you want it, take it.”
you might’ve folded first, but he kisses you back just as eagerly, lips moulding into one another. you feel him sigh into your mouth, as if you’d relieved him of all stresses weighing on his shoulders. you lift a hand to cup at the back of his neck, fingernails scratching at the undercut at his nape.
gojo shudders beneath your touch, rolling his hips deeper into yours and relishes in the way you moan softly into his mouth. he wants to drink up every single sound you make, wants to discover your body’s sensitive spots and maneuver them into making a mess out of you.
your neck soon begins to ache, and almost as if he can read your mind, pushing deeper into you as you fall back onto your bed. he never takes his lips off of yours— not when the hold in his hair lowers in favour to grip at his biceps or stroke his back, not even when your legs wrap tightly at his waist. at a particular grind, you moan louder than any other sound you’d made all night, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.
“gojo,” you whine into his mouth, fingers clawing at his compression tee. he continues to roll his bulge into your clothed cunt, aiming at that spot that has you arching your back off the bed and into him. he grips a hand tightly at your plush thigh, his hold so hard you’re certain he’ll leave bruises. “you said y-you’d eat it. be a man of your, ngh, word.”
“yeah, that’s right,” he pulls away finally, a thin string of saliva connecting both your lips. he pecks at your kiss bitten lips, the dazed look in your eyes igniting a fire deep in his gut. “gotta keep my promise— can’t keep my baby waitin’ too long,” you feel his lips trail from the corner of your lips to the slope of your jaw, “she gets all cranky an’ pissy.” from the column on your neck to your collarbone, “starts gettin’ all mean with me.”
“oh my gosh, shut up!” you complain, though your hold on him tightens. you feel the vibrations of his chuckles at your jugular, followed by a deep plunge on his teeth at the thin layer of skin and another agonizingly slow grind against your clit. “fuckin’— shit— hurry up already!”
“tsk, see what i mean?” gojo tuts, hands sliding down the curves at your torso. you feel his large fingers play with the material of your panties, rolling the lace between forefingers. the contrast of the coolness of his rings against your heated skin adds a strange stimulation to your senses. “so mouthy, ‘m gonna have to do somethin’ about that.”
“i’m mouthy?” you squawk, watching as he lifts your tee up from your body. he taps wordlessly at your waist and you understand to remove the article of clothing. you chuck the tee across the room, before redirecting your focus on the man peppering wet kisses all over your stomach. it leaves butterflies rattling inside. “you literally cannot shut the fuck up— what’s the hold up? awe, don’t tell me you can’t walk the talk?”
he pauses for a bit. he doesn’t let himself fall bait for your words. you’re just being bratty— all hot and bothered and can’t properly ask for what you need. you don’t have to worry, he’s here entirely for your pleasure. he isn’t even thinking about the way his cock throbs painfully in his boxers, doesn’t even attempt to relieve it at all.
and so, he kneels at the edge of the bed. with two large hands cupping at your hips, he pulls you closer to him and rests your thighs on his shoulders. he watches as your chest rises up and down, and you prop yourself back onto your elbows.
your eyes are misty, your lips swollen and wet, your hair a mess and your neck littered in marks that scream gojo. you already look fucked out and he hadn’t done shit. god, he can’t wait to stuff his face between your thighs.
“i got you baby,” he drags his index finger right in the center of your cunt. he can both feel and see the material dampen with your arousal, your hips squirming as you chase for more. he licks his lips as he narrows in on the treasure, he swears he hears his stomach growling. “promise i do. just relax for me, yeah?”
“whatever.” you mumble, and comply to his order. he calls you a good girl, before stroking at your clit some more. the reactions you give will forever be imprinted in his mind, fleeting touches already granting him the opportunity to hear your delicate voice once more. you may be impatient but gojo is worse, and he decides that he wants to see your cunt now. he pushes your panties to the side, and the sight he’s rewarded with nearly— nearly, had him cumming right on two knees.
gojo gulps. “holy shit,” he feels his voice waver in excitement, eyes widened as he stares dead on. your cunt clenches around nothing from the switch of temperature, oozing more of your arousal down to your sheets. your pussy lips are puffy, clit sitting atop so prettily and damn, he wants to hump something.
he isn’t sure why but you try to close your thighs together, rude much, though gojo is much stronger. he keeps them spread wide, and shoots you a look. “do not.”
“tsk.” you click your tongue, looking away. and, oh, are you shy? “stop staring, you fuckin’ weirdo.”
he’s too far enamoured by the slick dribbling from your tiny hole down the crack of your ass. it trickles so tauntingly, that he finds himself nearly jealous. he wishes he could be there— oh wait, “just appreciatin’ my meal before i eat, sue me.”
the pad of his thumb collects your juices before popping it into his mouth. “wow,” he mumbles, more so to himself, at your taste bursting onto his taste buds. it’s so undoubtedly you, a raw and truthful you, and he gives you no warning before diving right in.
“fuckkk,” you throw your head back, hand flying to grab at the nearest thing in your vicinity— which so happens to be tousled, fluffy hair.
so, first time for everything right? but gojo maneuvers his way into your pussy as if he’d done this before. he starts off with kitten licks, teasing you some more before flattening his tongue and dragging it up and down your lips. he swallows and moans into your cunt, fingers digging deep into the back of your thighs.
he’s practically making out with your pussy. he doesn’t neglect any area, not even the clit surprisingly, as he latches his lips to the bundle of nerves and lightly nibbles. now that has your back arching and pushing his head deeper into you. if there was a way to go in life, he’d gladly take this death.
he’s so painfully hard it hurts, unable to control the way his hips grind against the bed frame. your scent is driving him feral, the way you tug on his hair harshly has his balls tightening and the way you cry out his name makes him want to imprint his name inside of you.
“s-satoru!” oh god, you’ve done it. you finally said his first name and he’s this close to painting his briefs white in shame. he continues to flick his tongue inside your hole and similar strokes to his humping. “you’re doin’ s’gooddd baby, shit!”
keep praising him and he’s gonna bust. he lifts himself away from your pussy, eyeing the gooey center almost offensively, “why the fuck do you taste so good?” he lands a wad of spit down, as he brings two digits to properly rub his saliva into your essence. the sounds it produces are so wet, it’s damn near filthy. he clicks his tongue, “seriously. ‘s makin’ me mad almost.” he slaps at your cunt twice, watching how your spray down his wrist.
“you s-sure this is your first, hnng, time?” you accuse, to the best of your abilities, as you feel him slip a finger in. you’re so lubricated, the slip inside was easy. pushing past that first ring of muscle, he’s pumping in and out of your cunt with precision, curling his digit as if he’s aiming to find a specific area. “y’know too much— mmph, fuckin’ liar.”
when he thrusts into a specific angle, your thighs tremble terribly around his head. he smirks, found it. “watched a lotta porn.” and he isn’t lying, he thinks back to how he studied the arts of cunningulus, and recalls the double combo. he has to try it, so he’s back to sucking and nibbling at your clit while adding an extra finger inside.
“oh my goddd,” you whine, feeling your limbs liquify in heat from every extremity. he pushes your knee further into your chest, and so you grab ahold of both your thighs. he hums approvingly, dragging his free hand along the soft skin of your legs. “don’t— don’t stop, please don’t stop,”
your toes are curled, back off the mattress and the pain in his scalp is shooting straight down to his cock. he’s rutting and rutting into the wooden frame, the flat surface painfully teasing though it does do the job. or maybe he has you to blame.
he feels saliva dripping down his chin, the way his tongue slides into your folds and feels his knuckles in there. his fingers move in scissoring motions, rotating circles, in and out— all the while repeatedly attacking your golden spot.
you severely underestimated him, and can barely process the orgasm that rips through you when he presses a hand onto your lower belly, “‘m cumming, fuck, ngh, don’t stop—” and you wail, fingernails clawing intensely into his tresses, torn between pushing him away and pulling him in closer. he decides to make that decision for you, stuffing himself as deep as possible to not miss a single drop, and your thighs clench against his ears.
so, gojo satoru is a shameless man. as you flood into his mouth and onto his face, grinding out your orgasm and using him as nothing but a toy for your own high— somewhere along the lines, he feels his briefs are sticky. he moans sluttily into your pussy, hips twitching incessantly as his cock shoots loads of nut into his boxers.
it feels like an eternity yet simultaneously a second when you’ve come down from your high, body twitching as gojo slows down his movements, his finger pumps gradually lessening in intensity and the kitten licks on your abused clit coming to a halt.
his face is soaked. his skin feels moist and damp, a thick air of humidity beginning to grow in the room, but he genuinely couldn’t care less. his eyes are stuck on you, limbs sprawled out limply against your bed, your chest heaving, tiny breaths coming out of your mouth.
he slides out his aching fingers, and pops them back in his mouth, tongue wrapping around his digits so eagerly, basking in your taste once more. absolutely divine,
“christ, i’d make a nasty pornstar.”
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gojo won the poll. . . everybody act surprised (°_°)
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fairy-angel222 · 5 months
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𝐄𝐝𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨 𝐊𝐚𝐦𝐨 𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐧𝐚𝐩𝐬 𐙚⋆.˚
Him getting all teary as you continue to edge him, his cock painfully hard and throbbing as you stroked it slow.
“P-please mommy— ahh, need to cum so bad.” His voice cracks with a whimper, trying to thrust his hips into your warm fist for just a little more contact to his overly sensitive tip.
His moans are so loud and cute, his hands tied snuggly behind his back as he ruts desperately up into your fist. His abs tensed, mouth hung open in shaky cries as his orgasm builded up.
“Nngh— ‘m cumming, ‘m— no, no, no, w-why?” He let out a choked sob. Pleading eyes going dark when you only smirked down it him, running your nail up his shaky stomach.
“It’s okay baby.” You coo, “you can take it, you’re such a good boy f’me.”
Choso frowned, his eyes glossy as he glared at your form on top of him. Effortlessly breaking his restraints into two before grabbing you roughly by your neck with the shake of his head, “ ‘m done, ‘s your turn now.”
You let out a loud whimper when Choso shoved you into the bed, spreading your legs impatiently before lining himself up with your dripping hole. “You get this wet from torturing me.” He scoffed.
“Choso baby, w-wait.” Choso only ignored you, thrusting into you roughly before he was hammering into you in the chase of his lost orgasm. Loud squelching sounds filling the room as he used your pussy to stroke his cock however he liked.
“F-fuck,” he cried, his body already shaking as he felt his orgasm coming back to him. His hard chest pressed against your own as he fucked himself stupid with no rhythm. “O-ooh- nghh— feels so good m-mommy,” he breathed in relief, his cock slamming mercilessly into your tight warmth.
“Yeah? Feels so good doesn’t it, fucking yourself with my pussy?” You cooed, small moans falling past your lips as you stroked his hair.
Choso nodded with a broken mewl, his hips rutting into you with nothing but need as his thrusts got sloppy, slobbering kisses down your smooth neck. His eyes met yours through wet eyelashes. “Uh huh- ‘m gonna cum— nngh, please mommy can i cum?”
You only smirked. Good boy.
“Mhm, go ahead baby- cum for me.” Choso let out a string of loud whimpers, a cry of your name echoing through the room as his body trembled.
“O-oh fu-uuck— i love you s’ much mommy.” His voice went up a pitch, his hold on you tightening as his body stilled, twitching cock buried deep inside you to pump you fuck. “So warm— nghh, so tight. Can stay in you for h-hours. Fill you with my babies over ‘n over again.” He moaned when you clenched down on him, ropes after ropes of his sticky cum painting your walls white.
“Fuck, mommy’s gonna cum too baby. Keep fucking me just like that okay?” You moaned desperately.
Choso only pecked your lips before rubbing at your clit while fucking meanly into you. Your head falling back into your pillow with a whiny cry as your body trembled, feeling your stomach tighten as you neared your high.
Choso grinned, “Are you close mommy?”
You nodded with a mewl, your vision blurry and your lips parted in soft whimpers when you felt Choso’s cock repeatedly hitting your sweet spot. The stretch of your pussy for his thick girth clouding your mind as you moaned out for him.
“C’mon, use your words.” His voice deepened, hand reaching up to wrap around your throat with the tilt of his head. “Well?”
You nodded with a hiccup, “Mhm, ‘m so close. Gonna cum f’ you baby.” You cried out shakily, your toes curling with the arch of your back as your orgasm began to wash over you.
“Aww, well that’s too bad.” Choso faux pouted, halting his movements and smiling sweetly when you whined desperately. Lifting your hips towards him for any form of contact. “Baby p-please.”
He leaned down to kiss your cheeks as your own eyes grew watery, “told you it was your turn.”
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sttoru · 4 months
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‘and if i only could, i’d make a deal with god, and i’d get him to swap our places. .’ — kate bush
 𝝑𝑒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. gojo satoru x wife!reader. fluff to angst (no comfort). spoilers chapter 261. reader’s pregnant. major character death. mentions of blood, death. nicknames ‘pretty, sweets’. not proofread bcs i couldn't through the tears. i cried nine times writing this so.. good luck! wc: 3.6k
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“he’s kicking again,” satoru chuckles excitedly. he’s been clinging onto you ever since you got back from your doctor’s appointment. your baby boy is growing up healthy and there don’t seem to be any complications.
you smile and rest back against the velvety pillows. you’re enjoying the affection you’re receiving, the kisses and nuzzles against your swollen tummy makes every bit of suffering worth it. your husband is going to be an amazing dad, that you can tell.
“hey, little guy—don’t give ya mommy a tough time,” satoru huffs and gently taps the side of your stomach that was last kicked by the unborn baby, “that’s my wife, y’know?” you giggle at the scene in front of you and close your eyes, relaxing your body.
a comfortable silence hangs in the room. satoru’s warm hands cupping and rubbing your round stomach add to the tranquil atmosphere. the weight of your husband’s head presses onto the front of your plump belly—ear pressed against the stretched skin as if expecting to hear your baby boy talk.
after a while, you open your eyes. you hear a sniff and then the usual silence follows. you look down at satoru settled between your legs, hugging your waist and resting his cheek on your tummy. he’s awfully quiet and you’re unable to see his eyes because of his bangs.
“toru, everything okay?” you carefully ask. your voice comforts him for the next couple seconds, before his muscles tense up once more. satoru tries his best to seem unaffected by the many thoughts scurrying through his head.
“mhm,” your husband nods and forces a small smile. though, he can’t keep the facade up any longer. the longer you’re pregnant, the more worried he gets about a certain something; something that’s been bothering him ever since.
it’s the reason why he doubted even having kids in the first place.
“i—well. i don’t know, sweets,” satoru sighs. a deep sigh that shatters the mask he’s had on for so long. his brows furrow and his eyes dart from one place to the other. his fingers stop their movements on your stomach. they curl around the material of your shirt instead; showing a clear sense of vulnerability.
satoru seems. . . afraid, yet also angry. perhaps at himself, perhaps at the world. you don’t utter a single word. if there’s anything you want, it’s for your husband to speak about his inner turmoil freely. you’re the only person who he can have such emotional conversations with—the only person he can be himself with.
the real gojo satoru.
not the strongest.
that’s why you’re not surprised when satoru opens his mouth to confess the inevitable to you. “i’m scared,” his voice cracks. it’s a faint change in tone, but it is noticeable to you. you’ve been his lover for long enough to notice every minuscule thing.
the white-haired man lets out another sigh. you brush his soft bangs out of his eyes and instantly notice the sudden weariness in them. normally, those beautiful blue eyes shine brightly, yet that light has now dimmed.
you pat his head and satoru immediately leans into your touch. you allow him to process his own emotions and words before speaking up.
“scared?” you ask quietly and carefully, giving your husband space to explain.
satoru nods. there are a thousand thoughts running through his mind. all those thoughts he’s tried to suppress since the day you’ve announced your pregnancy. maybe even before that—at the day of your wedding.
he’s sat down with you a few months into the marriage, to have the talk about kids. he seemed to be delighted to have children with you, however there have always been some dark and hidden thoughts lingering in the back of his mind.
the sorcerer has chosen to ignore them for the longest time. he’s been trying to convince himself that he has nothing to worry about. you’re going to be fantastic parents and your children are going to be extremely loved.
the day you surprised him with your pregnancy, was like a dream. satoru cried - which he rarely does - so it was an emotional night for both of you. neither of you could wait to meet your child—happy with whatever gender.
despite all of the optimism and enthusiasm, satoru’s struggles with his inner thoughts have not yet ended. he doesn’t want to bother you with it. you seem so content and he does not want to ruin that at all.
but even the strongest without limits has to reach a breaking point.
“yeah,” satoru speaks up, his voice hoarse. he kisses your belly button, hoping his child doesn’t pick up on his distress somehow. your husband closes his eyes as he places his forehead against your tummy, praying that the heavens above hear his pleas, “i don’t want our kid to inherit my cursed techniques. at all.”
your hand doesn’t stop stroking satoru’s hair. you don’t flinch at his words, nor do you immediately discard his worries. in all honestly, you’ve shared the same feelings before getting pregnant.
you know how satoru’s treated by the jujutsu society. it’s dehumanising how he’s seen as a weapon of some sorts. a weapon that could solve all problems—one that cannot rest until its duty is done.
you despise it. you’ve told satoru about your hatred for the toxic society, even going as far as asking him to move to a different country without telling anyone. you’re sick and tired. you can’t recall the amount of times that you’ve cried alone, in the bathroom, after you’ve seen the state your lover comes back home in.
the white-haired man always seems so tired. his eyes and head hurt because of them overusing his cursed techniques. there are even days where satoru doesn’t put his blindfold or sunglasses off at home.
and when you try to talk to him about it, satoru simply assures you that ‘he’ll be fine’. you believe him in the moment, but you don’t know for how long you’ll be able to keep that trust.
you’re letting him break, slowly yet surely, right in front of you. he’s working himself to his demise. it’s nothing out of the ordinary to not want the same for your child.
though, you’re sure that it’ll be fine even if your baby boy inherits satoru’s techniques. that’s because you two are going to protect him with all you have. no one is going to treat your child like a weapon—not while the both of you are still alive.
“i don’t want our child to take over the burden i carry,” satoru continues. his brows are furrowed and his lips are pressed into a thin line. he’s already thinking about all the possibilities that can follow with the birth of your son.
he can hide his child from the world, but wouldn’t that be too restrictive? he can keep an eye on him every second of the day, but wouldn’t that be overprotective?
you notice satoru’s internal state of panic increasing, so you quickly cup his face. you lean down and press a firm kiss against his lips, to which he instantly responds. his breath hitches and he sits up on the mattress, deepening the kiss as his hands hold you by the back of your head.
he needs this—you—more than anything else in the world. if it wasn’t for you, he’d have lost his sanity long ago.
you pull back after a good minute and pant. you chuckle as you notice the slight pout on satoru’s lips. he never seems satisfied with just one kiss, which is adorable. you coo and pepper his face with small pecks, “aww.”
it’s comforting to the sorcerer. he closes his eyes and his mouth forms a small smile. you’re doing an amazing job at calming him down. satoru’s muscles relax and he finds himself nestled between your legs soon enough.
you realise that he’s still somewhat afraid for the future of his child by the way he’s playing with your shirt. his head lays on your chest and his long fingers trace shapes on your exposed skin.
“i know, honey, i know,” you murmur against the top of his head. you massage satoru’s scalp gently, nearly making him purr because of how incredible that feels. you stare at the ceiling and continue your little talk.
“i’ve thought about all of it too,” your fingers find his undercut, playing with the little hairs. all you can hope for is that your partner stresses less about the outcome of your pregnancy.
if you can do one thing for him, it’d be that. reassuring him that you’ll both do your best for your child will surely put him at ease. your husband has enough to worry about anyway.
you want to share that burden. you don’t want him to carry the world on his shoulders alone—he’s got you for that now.
“but i think that our son will be fine. why? because he’s got you,” you smile and kiss satoru’s forehead. it’s his favorite type of kiss and it works wonders when you comfort him. his ocean eyes regain their sparkle, both because of your unconditional love and trust in his parenting skills, “our boy will grow up fine and protected because he’s got you as his amazing dad, yeah?”
satoru takes some time to let your words sink in. your trust in him is a beautiful thing. of course, he’ll protect his kid no matter what. both you and his kid will be safe for as long as he’s alive. you’re going to be a happy family—one that he’s always dreamed of having.
he isn’t going to raise his child to be the strongest. he isn’t going to raise his child as an heir to the throne. he isn’t going to raise his child as his legacy. he isn’t going to raise his child as a tool.
his son will have a normal childhood and he will guarantee that. satoru will give his kid what he didn’t have as a child himself;
unconditional love and support for whatever his son wishes to become.
satoru raises his head and leans in to kiss you, hugging you to himself. he adores you so much, you’re all he needs to feel like he can do anything and everything all at once.
carrying the world on his shoulders so you can live peacefully in it is all satoru does it for.
“heh, damn right. i’ll be the best husband and dad ever.”
. . .
but in the end, your dreams are just dreams, right?
an escape from reality, that’s all dreams really are. all those times you’ve sat together to pick the furniture you want to place in the nursery, to paint the room a baby blue, to buy clothes and toys, diapers and carriers, to giggle about the places you would love to visit as a family, to think about possible baby names, to joke about whether your son will say ‘dada’ or ‘mama’ first — all of it were naive, hopeful dreams.
perhaps you were too caught up in them to realise that reality will hit when least expected.
satoru and you have lived in your own bubble—your own little fantasy world where tragic fates does not exist. no one in this planet would suffer if life worked that way.
no one on this planet would have to pick up the phone and have their world shatter, their dream bubble pop. to have all hope lost in the span of a second.
grief is a scary thing. it’s devastating and it will consume you whole. you don’t realise that until you experience it firsthand. losing someone close to you will break you in half. it’s a punch to the gut.
especially if it’s your husband. someone you considered your partner—who’s promised you to be together forever. maybe those promises were also a part of your fantasy.
maybe they were also but a beautiful lie.
your footsteps feel heavy. you don’t have any energy left in you. every drop has been drained from you the moment you heard the news over the phone. your eyes and head hurt, both feeling like they’re going to burst. you don’t want to accept any of this.
the faces of the people around you are a blur. they’re all holding their head low, their hands gathered in front of them to show respect. no one speaks—all the room is filled with are your sobs. the loud cries you let out in hopes that they wake you up from this absolute nightmare.
you drag your feet to the examination table in the middle of the room. tears continue to blur your vision, though surely, you can confirm the outline of the body laying underneath the blanket.
how could you not recognise the person you thought you’d spend eternity with?
it’s unfair. it’s unfair. it’s unfair. it’s unfair. it’s unfair. it’s unfair. it’s unfair. it’s unfair. it’s unfair. it’s unfair. . .
“satoru.” your voice is barely audible. your hands are shaking and your face is stained with endless streams of tears. you stand at the side of the table and you instantly curl your fingers around the edge.
seeing that face from up close hits different. usually, it’d have your stomach fill with a feeling of delight, yet now all you feel when looking at it is unimaginable dread.
the blood on the corners of his mouth. the blanket that’s hiding whatever is left of him from below the waist. the dull eyes that once stared at you with hope and love. those dried lips that normally shone with a layer of gloss.
god, it’s awful. you don’t want this to be true. you’re still waiting to be woken up by your husband. so he can hold you close and hug you, whisper sweet nothings and reassure you that he’d never leave you alone in a savage world like this.
your shaky fingers reach out to his right hand. his skin feels cold and his hand doesn’t hold yours back. your breath hitches and you let out a long, devastating cry. it sounds like a scream for help as your body crumbles—falling to your knees whilst you tightly grip your lover’s limp hand.
“no, god no, please!” you cover your mouth with your free hand, nearly hyperventilating from pure pain. you feel like your heart is going to give up on you. it’s breaking into a million pieces, as does your future. you can’t live without him—you can't do it.
satoru is the sole reason you’ve held out for so long. you were each other’s support system. you can’t do any of this on your own. you can’t breathe properly—your body doesn’t let you.
not until you feel a hand on your back, rubbing it gently. you can guess that it’s shoko, but you’re too distraught to even pay attention to her. you lift yourself up by holding onto the edge of the table, your legs shaking. you sniffle and sob uncontrollably.
you reach out to touch satoru’s lifeless face, as gentle as you always do. you flinch when you feel just how cold his body is—the usual warmth that would comfort you gone, nowhere to be found. you don’t get a reaction from him when you touch his cheeks.
it only serves to remind you of the tragic events that unveiled. you’re still in denial, but the moment feels real. your brain is slowly yet surely processing the information. though, you don’t want it to. you want to live in a world where you grow old with your husband.
where your child is going to grow up with a father figure at home.
“satoru, come back to me.. to us, please,” you beg and beg, hoping he smiles and sits up, telling you that it’s just one of his silly pranks again. when none of that happens, you feel yourself become more hopeless. you hunch over him and cup his face. the same face that would light up whenever you’d touch it.
you hiccup and wail, unable to breathe. you rub his cheekbones with your thumbs, settling your forehead against his. your tears fall underneath his eyes and slide down his temples, making it seem like he’s crying with you.
you wait for satoru to respond, but he doesn’t. there’s an eerie silence on his part and you’re panicking. you need him to comfort you, but he isn’t there to do that anymore. you’re left alone, all alone.
“i can’t do this without you—we can’t do this without you,” you stammer between sobs. you can’t go through life, knowing satoru isn’t going to be there for you. he isn’t going to come home anymore. he isn’t going to cuddle you to sleep anymore. he isn’t going to experience what it’s like to have a family of his own. he isn't going to be able to hold his child and to play with him.
you blame life for being unfair—always taking away the people who don’t deserve it. satoru hasn’t done anything to deserve this. he just.. existed. his fate of becoming the strongest, decided at his birth, is what has lead to his death.
you continue to sob to yourself. you refuse to acknowledge anything or anyone else in the room. you’re solely focused on your husband. or rather, what’s left of him.
remembering how excited satoru was to spend the rest of his life with you and your future children pains you all the more. he’s been stripped from a normal life. you’ve tried your hardest to give him that said normal life, yet your hopeful dreams have gotten you nowhere.
you wipe your tears away for the first time in a while. your grief is making you delusional—disoriented to the point you try to make yourself feel better. you force a smile and hold tightly onto satoru’s limp hand, trying to speak through your quiet sniffles.
“o-our boy is gonna be born soon,” you chuckle bitterly and place satoru’s hand on your belly. it’s gotten bigger over the months and you’re already eight months along. he was so close to meeting your child—so close. yet his tragic destiny did not allow him to.
you hope he’s been happy with you for as long as he lived. you hope you’ve somewhat relieved him from his misery for as long as he lived. that burden he carried, the world he carried on his shoulders. . . it doesn’t seem to want to detach from him. even after death.
you press a deep kiss against his forehead. satoru’s favorite spot to be kissed at, you remember. you wish he feels it in the afterlife; wherever he may he. as long as he’s in a better place now, one that treats him well. this current world has been too cruel on him. it doesn’t deserve to home someone like your husband.
“i wish you were here to see your son. to see our baby grow up, you'd be so proud, honey,” you kiss satoru’s forehead again. it’s all you can do stop yourself from losing it completely. you know satoru would tell you to be strong, for his sake. for your unborn son.
“i’m going to tell him all about you, ‘kay? i'm going to tell him about how awesome his dad was,” your voice breaks for the nth time. you’re still in the first stage of grief, though you try to seem strong in case satoru is watching from somewhere.
that’s what he did when he was the one going through a tough time. he’d act brave and fine, putting on a mask to make you worry less, telling you all kinds of reassuring words while he was suffering internally.
now it’s your turn to safely send his soul off to the afterlife. to let satoru pass away in peace, with him knowing that you’re going to live on for him and for your child. it’s the least you can do at the moment.
you put on a brave face, staring into his lifeless eyes, smiling through the unbearable pain. you’re sure he’s still listening to you from somewhere. satoru’s always told you that your voice is soothing, so you do your best to calm his soul and reassure him that it’s fine for him to rest.
“i’ll do my best to raise him, yeah? so you.. you just rest.”
rest was a foreign word to the sorcerer. this world didn’t give him an ounce of peace. he’d either be overworked by his family or the jujutsu society, and if it isn’t work, his inherited techniques were slowly killing his brain and body.
you’re praying that satoru has none of that in the afterlife. you’re praying that he can live a normal life, eternally. so that when you join him one day, you both won’t have to suffer nor share the burden. you can live out your dreams without anyone interrupting.
not even fate.
“you deserve to rest. you really do,” you sigh.
soon enough, you feel yourself crumble again. you burst out in tears once you realise that he’s actually never coming back to you in this life. you bury your face in the crook of his neck and sob loudly, not holding back your emotions anymore. you just can’t—you can’t act brave when your second half has been taken away from you so suddenly.
you hope that you succeeded into sending him off without any worries. you can’t help but continue rambling to yourself, “i’m going to miss you s’much. oh, my baby.”
you lift your head back and stare into satoru’s eyes once more. did he think about you when he was on his deathbed? did he see his life flash before his eyes, including his many memories with you? did he see what could have been?
it’s unfair.
you give him one last bright smile and gently close his eyelids for him, hoping his lost soul saw your face before you did so. with one last kiss on his lips, you whisper your final words;
“please wait for me on the other side, my love.”
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nyxiswrites1200 · 4 months
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Thinking of John Price being married to the prettiest wife. He invites Soap, Ghost, and Gaz over to his house where his pretty girl is sitting in the pool in the smallest bikini.
Getting all flustered because of the other guys but Price kisses her and says it's fine.
Ghost especially can't help but stare. He's never seen something so pretty in his life. Price knows you like him, you like the masked brooding L.T.
You sweetly ask for permission and of course Price grants it. You get to flirt with Ghost and hold on to his muscular arm while you try to convince him to get in the pool. However you just end up beneath him on a pool chair as he touches you.
"You take good care of your husband, love?"
"Mhm, I do. Let daddy fill me up all the time"
"You got room for one more?"
Letting him fuck you as Soap and Gaz try not to stare but they sit on the edge of the pool with their cocks hard. Price watching as he shamelessly strokes his cock, asking you how you like Ghost's dick in your tummy because it's so big.
Ghost fucking you in the backyard of your husband's house as the rest of em watch, trying not to be pervs. But you're just a sweet pretty little thing :( they can't help it.
Ghost is pounding you, making you moan so loudly. Good thing there's a tall fence surrounding the yard. He's got you pinned under his large frame, not even undressed.
Soap and Gaz cum in their swim trunks and Price's shoots over his happy trail on his stomach as Ghost pumps you full, leaving you dripping with his cum. You already know Price is going to want to fuck it back into you tonight along with his own.
Ghost was sweet though. Sent you flowers when he was away because he didn't want you to feel used even if you did want his cock anyway...
An: I don't know what came over me guys <3
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cyber333angel · 4 months
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rafe being your older brothers best friend hmm..
you had known rafe for a very long time, you and your brother growing up with him since childhood. mostly the two of them bullying you and being up to no good, however, as you got older you developed a crush on him. thinking little things he does are cute and the way he matured to be a little kinder to you made you feel good. rafe thought the same thing of course, you prancing around the house in your little skirts and tight shirts whenever he came over. seeing boys fawn over you made him a little agitated even though you weren’t his, at least not yet. but on one particular night, the three of you were sitting together on the couch watching a movie, your brother being the first to fall asleep. your already comfortable with rafe so you move closer to him expecting to have a conversation. “rafe the movie is kinda boring..do you wanna play something with me?” he uses your innocence as an advantage and ignores your genuine question, “yeah sure I’ll play with you kid. ”
..you end up on his lap, large cock buried in your soaking cunt thrusting in and out promptly. his hand covering your mouth to prevent your brother on the other side of the room from hearing your squeals. your back sticking to his chest, making you bounce up and down with your eyes half lidded. “mmmph f-feels so g-good rafey! think m’gonna c-cum soon..!” you hiccup and stutter out, “yeah im making this sweet pussy feel good?” pounding into you harder , his pelvis and your ass slap together echoing in the room while the movie still plays. he mumbles almost at his climax, “keep fucking taking this dick..just like that princess, shit.” he plunges his last thrust up into you, making sure to engulf his cock into your folds and release his sperm into you. “mmm r-rafe s’too deep! please oh g-god!” you moan and rafe grabs your throat squeezing it gently but harsh enough to shut you up. “quiet the fuck down, you want me to stop huh? you want everyone to hear you acting like a fucking slut?” letting go of your throat, his grip is loose enough for you to talk and apologize. shaking your head no to his first question, “no no m’sorry! please don’t stop, just feel so full rafey..!”
“mhm s’alright sweet girl I’ll get you right..” he takes his hand and places it on your clit, rubbing your sensitive bud in circles furiously. “you gonna cum for me? gonna be a good girl hm?” he says as you cream around his length. twitching he leans his head into your ear, “your not gonna tell your brother about this right sweetheart?” too fucked out to think you nod your head, “y-yes rafey m’not gonna say anything..”
“oh good girl.”
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wings-of-flying · 1 year
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campaigns i am INSANE about
- riptide
- fool's gold
- calamity
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uluvjay · 5 months
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Thighs-M. Verstappen
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Max Verstappen x fem! reader
In which Max always catches you staring at his thighs and finally does something about it
Warnings?; smut, thigh riding, cursing, kissing, pet names, slight degradation, slight overstimulation, i apologize for any errors I missed!
It was no secret that max had nice thighs, and it was no secret to your boyfriend how attracted you were to his thighs.
The Dutchman had caught you staring at them on multiple occasions yet any time he’d lock eyes with you, your head was snapping in the opposite direction with a growing blush on your cheeks.
However lately he’s caught your eyes locked on them a bit more than usual and since you weren’t going to do anything about, he would.
He had planned a nice dinner for the two of you, not giving you many details besides to keep it casual and to be ready by seven.
“Almost ready Schat?” He questioned as he passed by your vanity on the way to your walk in closet.
“Mhm, just have to get dressed.” You smiled up at him, head tipping back to rest on his stomach as he was stood behind your seated form.
“Me too.” He smiled back, leaning down to place a kiss to your hair before heading to the closet.
He had already seen your outfit laid out on the bed, a smirk forming on his face as he pulled out his own clothes but more importantly the jeans that were a bit tight around his thighs and always had your eyes locked on the thick muscles.
He hadn’t realized how long he had taken until you were calling out for him and asking if he was ready.
“Yeah I’m ready.” He called back, sliding on his shoes and pulling one of his jackets from a hanger.
He smiled as he exited the closet to find you stood in front of your floor to ceiling mirror touching up your lipgloss, dressed in jeans similar to his, a nice black sweater, heels, and the purse he’d gotten you for your birthday.
“You look gorgeous baby.” He praised.
“Thank you.” You blushed turning to face him.
Max smirked at your sharp intake of air as your eyes raked over his body, stopping at the denim that hugged his thighs.
“Everything okay Schat?”
“Huh?-oh um yeah.” You blushed, “You look very handsome.” You said smiling as you made way to him and placed a soft kiss to his lips.
You may have did your best to cover up the lust in your eyes but max had already caught the little sparkle.
“We better get going before we’re late.” You spoke up before turning around and heading downstairs.
The ride to the restaurant was tense to say the least, you could feel the desire growing in your stomach and the dull throb beginning between your legs.
Taking glances at Maxes thighs every chance you got, eyes lingering on them a bit too much and getting caught multiple times in the process.
Getting out of the tight sports car felt like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders and thankfully you and max had been sat across from one another allowing the dinner to be relaxing however, the throbbing in between your thighs never seemed to disappear.
The ride home was a bit better than before, you being able to calm yourself down and force the sinful thoughts of riding your boyfriends thighs until you physically couldn’t go anymore to the back of your mind.
Max walked into your shared apartment first, greeting your screaming cats first before they moved onto you, rubbing their soft bodies against your legs.
“Hi my babies.” You greeted the bengals.
You moved to set your purse down on the entryway table, kicking off your tight heels with a sigh of relief
“Baby?” Max called, “can you come here for a second?”
You followed his voice into the living room, stopping in the doorway as you found his legs spread wide, jacket thrown on the opposite side of the couch while he looked at you with an evil smirk.
“Y-yeah?” You questioned.
“Come here” he spoke softly but you could hear his lustful rasp hidden below.
You made your way to stand in between his still spread legs, a gasp escaping you as his large hands reached for the button and zipper of your jeans.
“What are you doing?”
“Taking care of something.” He mumbled, eyes not bothering to look up as he pulled the denim down your legs revealing you dark blue thong.
He reached a hand out instinctively as you stepped out of your jeans before pulling you down on top of him by the hand you had placed in his for balance.
He positioned your body to rest over one of his thighs, a cocky smirk forming at the way you whimpered when your lace covered cunt came into contact with it.
“Max what’s going on?” You questioned your boyfriend once again.
“You’re going to ride my thigh until you cum, I’ve seen the way you look at them baby, I know you want to do it.”
You couldn’t help the moan that bubbled out at his words, he knew you better than you knew yourself at this point, always knowing exactly what you wanted or needed without you even having to vocalize it.
“Bu-“
“No buts Schat, now be a good girl and get yourself off on my thigh.” He instructed as he leaned back into the couch, strong arms spreading along the back of the couch.
You did as you were told, allowing your aching and dripping cunt to begin moving back and forth starting with a small momentum.
However that didn’t last for long as the new sense of pleasure took over your body and soon your hips were moving shamelessly as you humped your boyfriend’s thigh.
Max was truly struggling to control himself, watching as whimpered on top of him, the wet spot that had formed below you no doubt ruining his jeans but he could care less.
Not when your head was thrown back in pure ecstasy, and your freshly manicured nails began to claw at his expensive shirt.
“Doing so good Baby..this is what you’ve been wanting right? To hump my thigh like a little bitch in heat?” He taunted.
You hated how your pussy clenched at his dirty words, but after all it was the truth.
“Yes, fuck yes max..feels so good.” You whined, opening your eyes to stare down into his blue ones.
That’s when he snapped, one of his hands coming to tangle in your hair before tugging you down and slamming his lips against yours in a hot kiss.
His tongue pushed its way into your mouth, leaving you no room to protest as his mouth dominated yours leaving you breathless on top of him.
You were both panting by the time he pulled away, his lips trailing down your throat as he left wet kisses around your skin followed by small nips.
“max I’m getting close.” You breathed, hips beginning to stutter as you could feel the fire in your lower stomach intensifying.
“Yeah? Gonna come for me pretty girl?”
“Fuck!..yes max, so close.” You cried loudly hips noticeably slowing as you did your best to keep up with your previous pace and the overpowering pleasure taking over your body.
Max dropped his hands to your hips, holding on tight at he guided your body over the thick muscle, repeatedly clenching and unclenching it to add more pressure to your sensitive cunt.
You cried out as your high overtook your body, mind going fuzzy as you slumped against max, thighs and body shaking as he continued working you through your high.
You whimpered into his neck as he slowly brought his movements to an end, finally stopping when your hand shot out to grip his wrist and a pathetic whimper fell from your mouth.
“I know baby, I know..did so good for me.” He praised as he placed kissed to the side of your head, holing your panting body close to his strong one.
You two sat like that for awhile until you finally pulled yourself away from his chest and pulled him into a slow and loving kiss, thanking him for giving you what you needed.
“That was so good.” You mumbled against his lips before pulled away.
“Yeah?”
“Mhm.” You nodded bashfully, a deep blush growing on your lips.
“Could have done it a long time ago if you would’ve just asked instead of hiding it.” He spoke softly reaching a hand up to stroke your cheek, his heart warming as you leaned into his palm.
“I know..but something tells me we’ll be doing it quite often now.” You smirked.
“Oh will we?” He smirked right back, his lustful gaze quickly returning.
“We most certainly will be.” You giggled, dipping down to pull him into a hot kiss.
-
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drugs-and-daddyissues · 9 months
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𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐄
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𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎 You're the pretty little wife of President Coriolanus Snow, but he needs an heir to his legacy, someone to pass the Snow name down to. After all, his children will rule the great nation of Panem one day.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 Snow is his own warning tbh, P in V sex, unprotected sex (wear a condom ya ding dongs), creampie, Snow shoving his cum back in with his fingers, breeding, lowkey possessive Snow, he's kinda down bad for you but that doesn't stop him from being mean to you, dom/sub undertones, dom! Snow, sub! reader
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 Coriolanus Snow x f! reader
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"That's it, fucking take it" He grunted as he thrust into you. You were laid down on the bed, with him on top of you, your legs wrapped securely around his waist to keep him here (as if he would even dare pull out). You were moaning with each of his thrusts, his fat cock feeling like it was splitting you open in the best way possible.
He attached his lips to your neck, sucking lightly, marking you as his property. "Mhm, just like that, gonna fill up this tight cunt with my cum, gonna get you pregnant" He mumbled out, pussydrunk on the way you were fucking clenching around him, like you were made for him.
He just kept sliding in and out of you, his hips smacking against yours, the scent of sex and the sound of skin slapping together filing the room. "Feels so good, Coryo, don't stop! Please don't stop!" You cried out as his cock slammed against your g-spot, your gummy walls stretching around his length.
"Not gonna stop, not until I've fucked a baby into you, love" He rasped, his orgasm approaching, and he could tell yours was approaching as well. "You're getting close, hm? It's okay, let it all out baby. Scream my name if you need to" He chuckled, nipping at the skin right beneath your earlobe.
With a loud moan, you came hard around his cock, whimpering all sorts of nonsense as his rhythm didn't relent, going just as hard and as fast as before as he desperately chased his high. "Coyro, fuck.. 's too much" You whined as the overstimulation started to hit you, but he wasn't fucking done with you.
He pulled his face out from your neck, gently brushing your sweat soaked hair off your forehead, "So close, pet, just a little longer. You can handle it, be a good girl for me" He whispered, his cock throbbing inside you, desperate begging for release.
With one final powerful thrust, he emptied his seed into your womb, his rhythm slowing as he kept his cock inside you, acting almost like a plug to keep his cum inside you. "Fuck.. there we go, see?" He placed a soft kiss against your temple, before slowly pulling out. However, he soon replaced that emptiness with two of his fingers.
You panted heavily as you tried to regain your breath. But you were his little pet, and he needed to take care of you. With his free hand, he brushed his fingers through your hair, whispering "How are you feeling?" softly.
"Just gonna keep my fingers in there for a bit, doll, it's okay" He cooed in your ear. You could feel his warm cum inside you, your legs still trembling slightly from your intense orgasm. "'m okay" you weakly answered, melting into his touch as you both laid there, basking in that post-orgasm glow.
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He's so toxic but I'm so down bad for him 😞😞 anyways likes n reblogs are highly appreciated!! 🫶
☆ like what you've read? masterlist
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ridher · 2 months
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rafe being soft for the shy pogue working at the country club
you were new to the outer banks, having just moved to the island with your family. being a pogue, however, was less than ideal. it's not like you would know that though, because having yet to make any friends, how were you supposed to know these ridiculous terms that separated the town?
luckily, it wasn't hard for a pretty girl to get a job at the island club — serving drinks and bussing tables with generous tips.
the days didn't match up until almost a week into working when he first saw you. ever so sweetly taking orders in the little uniform you wear — a tiny skirt and fitted white polo that looks so tempting, especially because you don't even realize it.
rafe is determined to make you swoon, pogue or not. he saunters over in his effortlessly confident manner, not even bothering to take a seat and instead leaning over the bar with his arms crossed — forearms braced atop the hard counter.
a quick sweep across your figure with his tongue pressed to his cheek before his eyes meet yours as you spin around to greet him with a characteristically shy smile.
none the wiser to his troublesome reputation, you gaze up at him with big eyes through your lashes, standing before him though across the bar and speaking up all soft and polite.
"what can i get you?" rich, attractive boys your age were all but uncommon at the country club — spending their afternoons on the golf course and purchasing excessive amounts of alcohol.
rafe is no different. he orders a drink from some expensive bottle, all the while shamelessly crowding your space and purposefully trying to use intimidation to catch your eye. it works opposite to how he would like, the low and sultry voice he thanks you in only causing you to scurry off and switch to the back of house.
he takes it personally and makes it his mission when he shows up the next day (for the sole purpose of seeing you) to try again. he'll get what he wants. watching from afar he won't admit to himself he's in awe. how soft and sweet you are to everyone, even when you're alone shows it's not a facade.
the next approach he's more patient, coming in the cool lobby and running a nervous hand through his curtain bangs before flashing you a small smile. if only you knew how rare that was.
properly introducing himself with a firm handshake and taking a place at one of the barstools, ordering the same drink as previously and putting it on the cameron's tab.
"you, uh, you're new around here, huh?" he inquires in an unusually soft tone, patiently awaiting your answer.
"mhm. been just a couple days." you wipe up the counter — a repetitive task to busy yourself with in situations like these.
"right, right.." tapping a finger against the smooth surface barricading you from him, watching intently and trying not to come across too strong as he plots thoroughly in his head.
it becomes a regular thing — his near daily visits to the club. after spending a day aggressively hitting balls on the green with his friends, he comes inside to just talk.. and watch how your face flushes when he says practically anything, dimples and all. in your mind, he's the only friend you've made in this town and he is more than happy to be that person in his own, slightly twisted way.
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cosycafune · 2 months
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SUCK UNTIL YOU CAN'T ANYMORE.
usually, you're not allowed to enter kento's office -- scheming. however, your mouth's filled with kento's -- trying not to get caught as you suck him dry. sure, he's going to punish you later. but that doesn't matter, right now. your job is to be a good girl and handle it.
acts: cock warming, oral (m) receiving, masturbating, gagging, crying, mascara streaming, and trying not to get caught. mdni 18+ masterlist.
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MESSY, gasping for air, gagging mercilessly, that’s what you’re doing. Doing as you’re beneath Kento’s desk, listening to his assistant blabber to him about the disorganised workers – on the phone. Kento knew doing something like this was heavily forbidden, but he couldn’t resist his girlfriend’s doe eyes – twinkling naively as you pretended to reach for something under the table. Only to trap Kento, sucking contently away on his cock – glancing up at him.
“Give me…a second,” Kento grunts out, muting his phone before he lodges his cock further into your mouth – listening to you struggling to take all of his cock.
Kento has a streak for slight roughness.
“You wanted…this,” Entertained, Kento softly mutters. Murky cognitively, Kento hurls his head back while he shoves your mouth impossibly close to his cock base.
“Hmm, that’s… it, princess,” Struggling to converse, loudly moaning, Kento lustfully glimpses down at you – struggling to fluently breathe.
“Mhm,” Each vibration you sent causes Kento to buck his hips intensely into your mouth, engrossed by his colossal cock knocking against the back of your throat.
“L-Look at you,” Kento grunts out, picking up on your prettily playing with your soppy cunt – desperate for more contact from him.
A moaning mess, Kento grins at your smeared mascara, your dignity completely thrown out and disregarded. He knew it was more disregarded the moment he noticed you completely at his mercy, waiting for his full spurts of cum exploding in your mouth. It takes him finishing so deeply within your mouth, for your eyes to light up with satisfaction.
“‘Gonna have to punish you later,” Smitten, Kento chuckles – grunting with satisfaction at his balls being emptied by you.
You’re everything.
--
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do not copy, modify or claim any of my works as your own. all rights reserved; cosycafune. 2024. small banners credit: cafekitsune <3
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