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#please drop suggestions if you have any
sweeetnothingss · 1 year
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i love this playlist SO much.
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working on an ace attorney lineup of sorts
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miramisaki · 3 months
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58(???) days until Charlie...
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cheekydogs · 1 year
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I’ve gotten a few new additions since moving back in with my folks, so I thought I’md make some posts showing them off! This one’s for my new guys from ItemLabel’s 2023 drop, and I’ll post my other new guys tomorrow after they’re done drying from their baths
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First up, I got the new Angel Peepy, named BEA, and a Celebrity Blue Peepy! I’m currently debating that one’s name, but it’ll be Darien or Damian because they’re heavily based on Doraemon and I want a name that helps convey that. This is the last time Celebpy will be available for a long while, possible forever, so I decided to snag one while I could :)
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I also grabbed a series X Ouioui, which is a series that is exclusively odd mystery ouiouis and only available on sporadic dates for 2-hour periods! Mine’s a Writhing Creature Ouioui, and I’ve named her Yippy
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And lastly, for spending so much money on this drop (😅) I got a free MunMun thrown in, snagging me a Strange Guy MunMun! I’m just calling him Strange Man and he lives on my lamp atm
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starboyyoongi · 1 month
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ateez fic out later on today!!
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chuluoyi · 3 months
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✎ wedding anniversary
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- gojo satoru x reader
seven years of dating, two years of wedded bliss, and gojo is having his greatest existential crisis yet... all because this year, you apparently have forgotten the most important day of your lives
genre: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—heavy smut, fingering, cunnilingus, p in v sex, slight breeding kink, crack, drunk, lovesick and possessive gojo (nanami is so very done with him), also fluff !!
note: back to chu's thirsting hour :') based on a fellow gojo fucker's very helpful brainrot (chiyo if you see this, hii!😗) pls give it some love bc this has gone through not showing up in the tags 5x already *sobs*
a part of gojo's love entries
general masterlist
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To this day, it was still beyond Nanami why you, his very sensible former classmate, would have Gojo Satoru as your husband.
“She... doesn't—hic!—care about m-me... anymore!”
But well, to each their own.
“Gojo—”
“Today is our—hic!—anniversary!”
This is exhausting. It had been 30 minutes ever since the blindfolded shithead started rambling his sorrows. “She is probably just busy, you don't have to—”
“I r-really thought—hic!—she would at least n-not forget it l-like that!”
“Please, stop this nonse—”
Satoru snapped his head so swiftly that Nanami was startled, pointing out an accusatory finger at his face. “You stop!—you don't understand, Nanami!”
The said man flinched, taken aback, before feeling the surge of irritation coursing through his veins.
Sure, Nanami would gladly admit that he didn't understand. He neither had the time nor energy to. It was beyond him that he was even entertaining this blubbering idiot at this time of the day, in a bar no less. How did he get roped into this in the first place?
Actually, he had minus interest in your marital affairs, but Gojo was latching onto him all day, rambling about how excited he was for this day for weeks now, until you gave him a call, saying you would be home late and disregarded his very open anticipation. You broke his heart to pieces, apparently.
Amidst his heartbroken musings, Gojo followed him to his frequented bar, where he proceeded to down multiple glasses without any supervision.
“Am I really t-that lousy? Can’t be it… I’m s-strong, d-dashing… rich—”
Nanami released a guttural sigh, messaging his temples. How could this idiot have no shame while spouting all of this?
“Will s-she… divorce me next…?” he abruptly blurted, eyes widening as saucers and full of clarity all of a sudden. Satoru firmly tugged at his suit and forced him to face him. “Nanamin…! S-she won’t divorce me, r-right?!”
Oh, to hell with it. Nanami couldn’t take this anymore. He was done and he had no patience to tolerate it any longer.
He shrugged him off, and pulled out his phone to dial your number. “Hello? Please, come pick your husband. He’s a public nuisance!”
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In fact, you didn’t forget your anniversary.
How could you? Satoru made it his point to drop hints about it almost every day, and you actually struggled to be indifferent about it because you also had things planned out.
A present—already taken care of thanks to your mail order of Rolex’s newest collection watch, and a treat—a two-tier mochi cake he had been staring at with literal stars in his eyes on your last date.
Which has become the problem. The bakery had mishandled your delivery and you had to wait for them to remake it. It was 8pm already and you couldn't help but worry. Satoru must be feeling utterly despondent by now, thinking you had forgotten a day that meant so much for both of you.
And so when you got a call from Nanami, you dropped everything to get him and told the bakery to arrange for the delivery tomorrow, because you knew... nothing good ever came out of Satoru getting drunk.
"I missed youuuu~! Dearest, darling— my universe!"
To Satoru, the everything around him was a blur of lights and hiccups when you came to retrieve him. Nanami was so eager to wash his hands off him, leaving you with a pointed grimace as if pitying you.
. . .
"A-are you going to—hic!—leave m-me?" Satoru slurred for the nth time now, stumbling inside your house with you propping him.
"For the last time, no, but I'm tempted to," you hissed, throwing him a glare. Your husband was a very unpleasant drunk because he wasn't even a drinker in the first place. "Satoru—walk properly!"
You managed to get him into your bedroom, where Satoru flopped onto the bed, dissolving into groans. You exhaled deeply and plucked the buttons of his shirt open, trying to get him change into his sleepwear.
"Ah... haaah," suddenly he caught your hand and placed it on his bare chest, his eyes blazing into yours, rambling, "Sweetheart—please. I c-can't live without you now... I'm sorry—I'm sorry for anything, or everything, I don't even know but—please don't hate me—"
"Satoru..." Your eyes widened slightly in surprise. Why was he this spooked? "I'm not leaving you, okay?"
"I promise you, I'll do better—" his voice was watery, as if his throat was clogged up. "I'll be better..." His voice then reduced into a whisper. The alcohol had stripped away his facade, leaving his raw emotions exposed.
Something inside you lurched. Throughout the nine years you have been with him, Gojo Satoru was always irritatingly self-assured, and so seeing him like this— so openly fragile, it did more than just churn your insides; it made you realize the depth of his feelings.
In that moment, you knew your reassurance meant everything.
"I'm not going anywhere, yeah?" you placed your other hand over his, offering him a genuine, soft smile. “Satoru, I’ve put up with your ass for more than nine years. So…” you shifted your eyes away, suddenly feeling embarrassed, before looking at him again. “I'm here... for you, always.”
His grip on your hand loosened slightly, but the intensity in his gaze didn't wane, and you would've laughed when he hiccupped next if you weren't feeling the overwhelming warmth in your chest.
But oh you wouldn't have expected it, because one heartbeat later, he yanked you down to the bed— crashing his lips against yours.
“Mmmph!”
He tangled his nimble fingers on your hair, and his other hand slipped inside your blouse, unclasping your bra in one flick. You let out a gasp, "Satoru—! "
Before you could even gasp, in the next second, he flipped you over— seizing your puffy lips once more. His hands now moved with more urgency, squeezing your breasts rather roughly, flicking your nipples with the pads on his thumbs.
And soon, far sooner than you thought...
"Who else gets to see you like this?" Satoru inquired darkly after you were naked under him, his voice low and deep. He was no longer that stupid husband of yours, rather the wanton man of your nightly wonders.
Without warning, he slid one of his fingers into your folds, probing your walls, and a gasp escaped you as you arched your back, throwing your head back on the sheets.
"No— one," your voice came in a breathless moan, still reeling. "H-how can y-you ask me—" Stretching you out even further, he entered another finger and you wailed, "Mmgh!"
He had always loved the sounds you made and how you were so pretty squirming under him like this. And before you knew it, his face was inches from your cunt, blowing hot air into your sensitive flesh.
"Tell me, who is the only person who gets to see you like this?"
Your eyes rolled back, words died on your tongue as his skilled tongue ran down on your drenched pussy. You instinctively tried to close your legs around his head, but he firmly held them apart.
"You." Panting, your mind racing to form coherent thoughts. You managed to mutter, "Only you... No one else—hah—just y-you...!"
He suckled on your clit hungrily then, rewarding you for your honesty. Squelching noises echoed around your marital bed as your arousal pooled around his fingers— you being so incredibly, irrevocably close to your release.
"Haaah, ngh—mmph!—Satoru, I'm a-about to—!" but then, in one cruel twist, he withdrew his digits, and your pussy throbbed at the loss.
You muffled your whines, feeling betrayed and irritable. "What—why—!?"
"Don't think that I'll let you cum anywhere else but my cock," he stated gallantly with an unusually stern expression, blue eyes narrowing as he assessed your wetness. Right in front of your eyes, his cock sprung after he let it out of his pants.
"Soon, you'll feel me..." Your eyes shamelessly followed his long length as he placed it on your lower belly. "...there."
Everything about him using that taunting tone turned you on, and true to his words, he soon slid himself inside you. He let out a low grunt at the feeling of how your walls clenching around him and you whined, the pain of being stretched making you almost sob.
"Shit, hold still," Satoru groaned, pushing down on your belly. "You're so tight— relax for me a bit, sweetheart? You're doing so, so fucking well."
His words went through you, and you could feel yourself opening more to ease his intrusion. Next thing you knew, he was buried deep inside you, and his gaze met you once again.
"Are you okay?" he asked between breaths, voice softening. When you nodded in response, he planted a kiss on your chest.
"I love you," he said in a rasp, eyes piercing your soul. "I’ll give you anything. My body, heart, soul—you can have it all. In return, you just have to promise one thing." His eyes, now clearer, deprived of the earlier haze, boring straight into you like an arrow.
"Don't ever leave me."
"I won't," you replied resolutely, catching your breath. Your own eyes shone with your love for him, making it even. "For as long as I live, it's going to always be you."
Satoru gazed at you as if you were his skies and stars, and before he started pounding into you, he vowed—
"Then I'm yours."
And soon, you were a nothing more than a frenzy, hot mess. You couldn’t help the nasty moans flying out of your lips as he kept barreling into you. His grunts reverberated throughout the room, rutting you through your hazed mind.
And the way he was whispering provocations into your ear, pushing you further into ecstasy at the mere thought of—
"What if... I get you pregnant this time?" A thrust. "Just imagine—" Another. "My wife, all round—" Another. "—just because I—am doing this to her—!"
You were barely registering his rambles at this point. Your walls clenching around his girth impossibly tight and you let him claim you as his thoroughly, your legs locking around his waist.
"Ah—ngh, mmrgh! Satoru—more!"
This wasn't you, the usual you wouldn't be this daring— but even you'll be more than forgiven tonight.
Satoru's jaw tightened at the sheer pleasure you brought him, his ego stroked, and his heavenly eyes darkened as you begged and dug your nails into him. He was so close, he could feel it. Your moans was enough to lead him to cum right here and there.
But before that, he was determined to show you, to whom you truly belong.
“My wife.” He growled. A thrust.
“Mine.” You gasped. Harder.
“All mine.” Deeper.
"Yes," you cried. "Yours— all yours, so please—!"
And three deep thrusts later, Satoru finally busted his load inside you, spurts after spurts painting your wall white— filling you up so hard it was spilling out. And your orgasm followed in immediate effect along with your hitched screams of pleasure, before the two of you collapsed on each other, a mix of groans and sweat, entwined in cum, bliss and exhaustion.
"Love you, sweetheart," you heard him murmuring in your ears, enveloping you in a warm embrace as you drifted into sleep.
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Next morning, you were awoken to soft hums in your ears.
"Oh, the sleeping beauty awakens." The first sight you saw was Satoru's cheeky grin, and him pecking you on the lips. "How are you?"
"Mmm..." you winced, feeling the slight twinge between your legs. He noticed it and gently untangled himself from you, fingers tracing your waist. "Don't move around too much, you're going to bother my little swimmers, you know."
It took you a few seconds to realize what he meant and you glared at him. "You horny weirdo. I just woke up."
“Heh heh heh~ Don't take it too seriously! I was just trying to get you to smile.” He pinched your cheeks and then mused, “Well, I'd actually be surprised if we made it last night...”
"You're not funny," you retorted. You had been feeling weird and that was when you saw it.
The dazzling, massive diamond ring. On your finger. Wait, is that Graff's Tribal Collection?
"Satoru..." you mumbled, lifting your hand in shock, your eyes fixed on the piece that likely cost more than your monthly wage. "You..."
"Do you like it?" his smile was so easy and light, adoring the sight of you. You were so adorable, marveling at the little gift he got you.
"What do you mean—" you stuttered, turning to him. "Are you crazy?! I can't wear something this expensive—!"
"But that's exactly my point. It's a gift, meant to spoil my wife."
"You are mad," warmth flooded your cheeks, your heart fluttering with joy. You were unbelievably giddy because your husband really knew the way to your heart, yet you'd be damned if you let the excitement show in front of him.
He raised an eyebrow, his expression souring, and with a mocking tone, he accused you, "Actually, you're the one who's gone mad. I can't believe you forgot our anniversary!"
"I didn't, you dummy. I was out picking up your favorite mochi cake before you got yourself wasted." You turned away from him, shyly. "And I got a gift for you too."
"Oh? Oooh! Really!? What is it?!"
He was back to his silly self again, and you could only shake your head, wondering how the sex god from last night and this fool was the same person.
Yet, you felt nothing but love. Your heart couldn't help but melt for him when you saw that carefree grin.
And you couldn't be more grateful to the stars for bringing him into your life.
. . .
Oh, and little did you know that his little swimmers also made the goal last night— as three weeks later, you found yourself clutching the first of your pregnancy tests, which was showing a positive.
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tender-rosiey · 7 months
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“GOOD! NOW PUNCH HIS FACE!”
— when your baby and gojo, geto, nanami, toji, and sukuna get protective over you (f!reader)
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a/n: I am alive!! as an apology here is a multi-character post 🙏 btw in toji's part, you're megumi's mom
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GOJO SATORU:
two peas in a pod, twins, copies: these are all things people have called your husband and son.
honestly, they’re not wrong. your son has his father’s looks—satoru swears he has your nose and ears but anyway—and he carries the same protectiveness and love he holds for you, if not amplified.
you can’t count on one hand the amount of times the house has been turned upside down because of their fights for a cuddle session with you.
of course, you have always tried suggesting them simply sharing you, but these problem children would rather eat raw zucchini than ever share the cuddle time.
so while your son is barely six, you can still count on him to team up with satoru against anyone who wrongs you in anyway like what’s happening right now for example.
you’re out with your lovely family to buy some groceries, and since they both were whining about getting some sweets, you allowed them to go and snatch a couple from the next aisle.
on the other hand, you stayed to look for another type of detergent to clean the floor—especially since satoru got this new type of paint for s/n and it’s quite an endeavor to remove it with a regular detergent.
however, being in the cleaning supplies section never guaranteed the lack of filthy men who can’t take no for an answer. this one man approaches you, smug grin on his face as he leans on the wall, “what’s a pretty lady like you doing alone?”
“buying groceries like a normal person; now please leave me alone.”
he quickly frowns, “don’t be so stingy doll,” his hand extends towards your arm, “I can show you a good time; I promise—“
the man is swiftly smacked with an egg on his face, and he is left with the egg dripping down his face, “what’s your wrong with your kid, man?!” he yells at the person behind you.
he then grumbles, “ruined a potential good night.”
“my kid was absolutely right in what he did,” you hear satoru’s voice. you then feel a hand on your shoulder, and you’re pulled into a chest you’re all too familiar with, “’toru—“
your husband shoots a small smile your way, pressing a quick kiss to your lips, before looking at his son, “that last throw was very good, s/n! throw another one but just below his stomach."
a cheshire cat-like grin is plastered on your husband’s face as s/n prepares to launch another egg at the man.
there is a very evident scowl on your son’s face as he yells, “don’t you ever bother mama again, you stinky bum crumb!”
the man gasps and tries to make a run for it, but your son wouldn’t be the son of gojo satoru if he doesn’t manage to land the hit exactly where he wants.
the man quickly crumbles to the ground screaming and alerting literally everyone in the store.
so satoru picks both you and s/n and makes a run for it.
you hold tightly onto him, “wait, ‘toru, the groceries!”
“we can always order! saving my princess and son is more important!”
your son grumbles, “but I want to hit the rude man!”
“me too, champ, but—“ satoru sweat-drops and glances behind him, “I doubt the angry security guards would like that!”
GETO SUGURU:
your twin girls are one of the sassiest to exist.
in a way, they take after their father who is also pretty sassy but very low-key.
the sass of all three combined is terrible to be the victim of. luckily for you, they don’t dare direct their triple ray towards you, especially—in any argument—at least one will try to win you over.
if it’s suguru trying to stay on your good side, then he is hugging you from behind, pressing feather-like kisses on your shoulder and whispering about how sweet you are. if it’s the girls, then they cling to your legs and keep yelling about how much they love you.
so it is safe to say that you have a small squad to protect you from any potential “danger”.
“oh my, dear shouldn’t you focus on refining yourself a bit more?” you hear a woman say beside you.
you turn towards her, offended, “excuse me?”
“I mean,” her eyes scan you, disapprovingly, “you look average at best, and with that you won’t be able to find yourself a husband, let alone have children.”
you’re still processing her audacity as she continues, “but then again, it’s probably for the better that you don’t have children; you can barely take care of yourself.”
“can I help you?” your husband says as he approaches the woman.
she smiles condescendingly before chuckling, “I was simply telling this lady to take care of herself more; she hardly looks presentable.”
geto’s smiles tenses up as he is about to give the woman a calm peace of his mind, but his daughters beat him to it.
your older twin stands in front of the woman, scanning her with pure disgust in her eyes.
she grimaces and voices out her thoughts, “you are like a crunchy lizard.”
the woman gasps, “how dare you—!”
you cut off the woman, curious about your daughter’s conclusion, “why a crunchy lizard, sweetheart?”
your daughter looks at you with a small frown, shaking her head, “a crunchy lizard is an ugly sad lizard.”
a snort escapes your husband, and you’re barely able to contain your smile.
your other daughter follows up, looking at her twin sister, “the lady looks like that one green thingy we saw yesterday,” she taps her little foot, trying to remember and beams at the woman, “shrek! you look like shrek!”
then they both glare at her, frowning, “you’re a monkey!”
your husband doesn’t let it go as he deals the final—subtle—blow, “come on now girls; we shouldn’t bully the lady with the mcdonald’s like hairline anymore.”
it seems like the woman can’t take it anymore as she starts sobbing and running to the hills.
a moment of silence is shared across the four of you, before you carry both of your girls in your arms and start tickling them, “I don’t know whether to be proud of you or scold you, little evil girls!”
they squeal, trying to escape your hold and calling for their father.
geto chuckles and wraps his arms around the three of you, “let them have it for tonight, y/n,” he ruffles their hair, “they were brave and defended their mom, after all.”
“yeah, papa is right!”
“yes mama, please!”
you pout then smirk at geto, “well I don’t mind, and since papa is also very proud of you girls, he will buy any toy that you guys want today!”
the color drains from your husband’s face, and he watches motionlessly as his girls latch onto him, screaming about the toys they want.
you giggle at his expression and blow him a kiss. he reluctantly blows you one back, while the girls excitedly pull him towards the toy store.
NANAMI KENTO:
you and your husband were blessed with the sweetest girl as your daughter, and she was just recently joined by another sweet girl.
you can never forget the happiness on your daughter’s face when she saw her baby sister.
it also seems that no matter how many times you give birth, your husband can’t help but get emotional when he holds your baby. his hands are forever delicate as he cradles her to his chest.
you remember what he said during the birth of your first daughter.
“I feel like a piece of heaven has been plucked and placed in my arms.”
the way he always goes soft for the three of you is honestly adorable.
today, you were going on an outing with your—now 6 months old—baby and your older daughter who is almost six.
your husband never brags about his muscular form, but he never misses a chance to carry the baby or the baby supplies.
you have offered to at least carry the bag, but he always refuses, stating that ‘you already carried the baby for nine entire months in your belly; this is the least I can do.’
so yeah, sometimes you wish to smooch your husband till forever, but that’s not the point.
you’re walking hand in hand with your daughter as she sings her favorite song. you hear someone click their tongue, so you look to the side and lock eyes with an old lady. she takes the opportunity and approaches you.
“you should be ashamed of yourself!” she yells pointing at you, “your husband shouldn’t be carrying the baby supplies nor the baby itself for the matter,” she scowls, “that’s your job!”
“with all due respect ma’am, but that isn’t her job, and taking care of the baby should be something we are both responsible for.”
“yeah!” your daughter huffs, “and don’t take out your sad life on my mama!”
your eyes widen as you stare at your daughter.
on the other side, your husband is just as speechless. your daughter pays no one any mind as she continues, “mama works hard every day! you wouldn’t know that! you immature nugget!”
nanami frowns lightly, “d/n, that’s not nice—“
and for the cherry on top, your baby daughter throws the bottle cap she was playing with at the old lady, and frowns at her.
she starts babbling some nonsense that you're pretty sure are curse words in baby language.
having had enough, the old lady huffs, “the utter disrespect,” and starts walking away.
the rest of the spectators’ eyes follow her till she is out of sight. finally then, people start minding their own business, and you and your little family are left to the aftermath.
you giggle, “that was funny.”
“really?!” your daughter beams.
nanami cuts her off, “no,” he then looks at you with a small frown, a sigh escaping his lips, “y/n don’t encourage them—“
your baby daughter screams happily when she sees her sister smile. she starts kicking her feet with the biggest smile on her own face.
your older daughter starts laughing with her and tries to make her little sister laugh more—she was successful.
meanwhile, you chuckle, leaning on your husband’s shoulder, “admit it, kento; it was kind of funny.”
his resolve softens at the sound of laughter from all three of his girls, “okay, maybe a little, but—“
“yay!!”
ladies: 1
kento: 0
FUSHIGURO TOJI:
your husband and son are so alike, save for the part that your husband is a bit more shameless, and your son is more on the shy side.
however, they both have the same bluntness and the tendency to give anyone who they don’t like attitude.
for example, today, you were walking in the park with the both of them to unwind a bit.
not to mention that megumi wanted to walk his dogs which was a plus, since you would be able to watch your dear son play around with them.
it was all going great until you saw an old ‘friend’ who came running at the sight of you. he was someone who has always been way too touchy and in your personal bubble.
you have tried talking to him about it, but you’re confident that he does it to somehow force you into reciprocating the intimacy.
even if you’re a married woman with a freaking kid.
he giddily clasps your hand, “y/n, ‘been a long time!”
“h-hey,” you smile awkwardly.
he laughs, “I was passing by when I saw your figure, and I couldn’t help but come and say hi.”
you nod, “that’s great, but I am busy, so maybe later?—“
“you’ve gotten even prettier!” he exclaims, “I wish you would finally take me out on a—“
“can’t you see that she is uncomfortable?” your son retorts, “also, you should step back; you shouldn’t touch someone like this without asking them.”
megumi squeezes himself between the both you and glares at the man.
the guy was about to reply to your son, but toji pushes him back with ease, pulling you beside him and hand resting on your waist almost by instinct, “kid is right,” he tilts his head a bit, “ever been taught manners or do I have to do the teaching for you?”
the guy is taken back; offended, he snaps “you can’t speak to me like that!”
“and you can’t hold my mom’s hands like that, but here we are,” your son cleverly sasses him.
on the other hand, your—shameless—husband pulls you into one scandalous kiss and smirks at the guy when he pulls back, “and you can’t hit on a married woman, by the way.”
you hear your son gag in disgust at his dad’s actions, but you’re too busy burying your face in your husband’s chest, hoping that the guy disappears before toji makes even more of a bigger scene.
you also hope that the ground would swallow you, but that’s the alternative option.
the guy clutches his fist, before walking away, spewing insults at the sky—since he is too scared to cuss out your buff husband. once the man is out of sight, toji ruffles megumi’s hair, chuckling, “good job, kid.”
your shy bean’s cheeks redden slightly as he looks away, “…thanks.”
you’re still thinking about what just happened when you slap your husband’s chest, “toji, literally why?” you grumble, patting megumi who started holding onto your leg the moment you hugged toji.
“why not,” your husband shrugs with a small smile, taking pride in your flustered form.
“dad, I want ice cream.”
“no, you just want me to let go your mom, so you can hog her for yourself,” toji grumbles, staring down at megumi.
unfaltering, megumi looks up at him ,“dad, I want ice cream.”
“god damn it, listen here you—“
“divine dogs.”
RYOMEN SUKUNA:
there is no denying that both your son and your husband care for you very much, and they both—very aggressively—compete for your attention.
I am talking he literally throws the kid across the room kind of aggressive, and your son, in turn, throws whatever he has at him.
it’s eventful, but you would be lying if you said that it wasn’t one of the reasons why you will get grey hair earlier than everyone else.
so their very aggressive nature is also shown in their protectiveness over you.
a person doesn’t need to insult or even dare flirt with you for your devil duo to make their life a living hell; your husband and son don’t tolerate someone speaking to you if it causes you to ignore both of them.
for example, this one new servant was clueless to where the broom is, and unluckily for him, he saw you sitting with your husband and son in the gardens. he humbly approached you, “excuse me, m’lady.”
you turn to look at him with a smile, “yes?”
he clears throat, a bit flustered by the attention, “I—I wanted to ask where the—“
“up your ass, you disgusting fiend,” your son sneers followed by his father’s ever-permanent scowl.
“who gave you the permission to come and speak to her so casually?” sukuna presses, and the servant quickly falls to his knees.
“m-my apologies, my lord! I did not mean to disturb you!”
sukuna crosses his arms, “well, you did, and you also disturbed your queen and prince,” his eyes narrow at the servant, “what do you have to say for yourself?”
meanwhile, you’re watching all of that, mouth agape and trying to articulate anything to save the poor guy. you finally find your voice, “sukuna, it’s okay; he didn’t mean—“
your son hugs you tightly and glares at the servant, “to think he would so brazenly speak to you like you’re old friends is terrible, mother.”
you can almost see your son’s cursed energy flaring, and you can spot the small smirk on your husband’s face as he watches his son.
before it escalates any further and you find yet another dead corpse in your palace, you pick up your son, kissing his cheek which makes him flustered and causing him to bury his face in your neck.
you look at the servant, “you’re dismissed, and you can ask the head maid about anything you need, okay?”
“y-yes, m’lady!” he, however, stays glued to the ground, “may I have the permission to lift my head?”
sukuna grunts, “sure.”
“thank you, m’lord,” the servant says, before scurrying towards the gate, having secured his freedom after his little mistake.
or at least, that’s what he thought.
your husband slices his legs off with a flick of a finger, and your son, who has inherited his father’s technique, slices the head off.
and so the body falls to the ground, and the other servants hurriedly start cleaning up the mess.
you frown at your husband, “sukuna! he apologized!”
he rolls his eyes, and pulls you by the waist, “do I look like I care? he shouldn’t have interrupted our time together.”
“aww, you’re jealous!”
“no, I am not—“
“hands off, old man!”
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copyright © tender-rosiey
do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported
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wyvernest · 7 months
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back massages
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pairing: miguel o'hara x college roommate f!reader
warnings: smut, miguel is a bit cocky, unprotected piv, suggestive massages, dry jumping
summary: you give miguel the proverbial back massage, and he returns the favour
"Ugh, my back-" he groans loudly, entering the cramped dorm room and slamming the creaking door shut in frustration.
"Still?" you reply, absent-mindedly, not looking away from your laptop screen and the from project you're working on for tonight's delivery. "Didn't the trellises at the gym help?"
You hear the cot springs coil under his weight as he drops to the bed on his stomach. "Couldn't even use them."
"Hm?" You're still half focused on your research, briefly catching the last words of his replies.
"The gym was full." He groans, shuffling on the mattress.
He is increasingly frustrated with the lack of attention he's receiving from you. You two have been teasing eachother for a while; enough of a while to get him riled up late at night, and to considerably speed up your heart rate whenever he was around.
But even now, you were afraid of being more obvious than necessary. He seemed so confident and easy to talk to, but sometimes you could only wonder if that's just what he was like with everyone else.
He wasn't. He was only this open to you. This relaxed. At least he wasn't aware of how attractive and intimidating his confidence could be to you.
Your delicate fingers kept tapping on the keyboard, unrelenting. Nearly indifferent.
"Didn't you say you'd finish it this morning?" he groans, slightly muffled by the pillow he rested his head against.
"Yeah." You aren't paying attention. Truthfully, beneath the façade, you can barely understand what you're reading, your eyes mechanically darting across the text in front of you. All you can think about is how much you'd want to straddle him and make out right now. Especially with the way he's groaning from the back pain-
"- I overslept." You explain, scarce and somewhat cold. He sighs deeply, and you feel your heart sink into your stomach. Fuck. You don't even know if being roommates is either a blessing or a curse. How are you even supposed to study with-
"Can't you take a break? Por favor." He speaks, his voice down an octave. You can't take it anymore. You peek at him over your shoulder, pondering.
He's shirtless. Of course. He has to be doing it on purpose at this point.
Your attention drifts over the line of his back that bends just slightly for him to hold his beefy arms under his pillow. His muscles ripple as he shifts to get more comfortable into the greyish bedsheets.
"Give me a back rub." He challenges, squinting his eyes and watching your face drop the second his request is processed in your brain.
"Come on." He chuckles lowly. A few ruffled strands of hair on his face make it look like he had just woken up. You can't resist. "Help me feel better."
Raising from the desk chair and moving to sit on the edge of the bed, you place your hands on his shoulder blades, pushing gently, kneading the tensed muscles there. He sighs deeply once again as he feels your small, warm palms on his broad back.
"Ugh." he groans, relaxing under your touch. "Push harder."
You comply, applying more pressure, digging the heels of your hands into his toned muscles.
Your vision washes over his body, comforted by the fact that he can't see you. His back is so much bigger than your whole body. You feel an unfathomably strong need to lay on him, to feel the heat of his skin invade yours. Or better yet, have him lay on you, feel the whole weight of him, cozy and constant.
"Oh-" He moans, raspy and low when you find another tensed up knot, "-feels so good." You're starting to soak your panties from the sounds he's making.
"You're so good at this." He halfly speaks into his pillow, evidently pleased with the special treatment. "Ah, yeah, right there- oh-"
Insisting on the spot, you start putting your upper body weight into the strokes, not having any more force in your arms. He groans again at the sudden change, only this time it comes out very much like a prolonged moan.
Soon enough your own back starts to hurt from the twisted position you're in, legs dangling on one side of the mattress and your torso turned to him. Ceasing your movements, you bring your hands to your lower back, pushing so you could straighten your spine as a faint ache begins to form.
"Get on the bed." He moves his head to gaze up at you over his shoulder. "Straddle my waist. Better for the both of us.", He advices, as if it's nothing.
Your heart rate picks up as uneasiness shoots through your veins as in a lighting strike. You've never been this close to him before. This physical, this intimate. Heart fluttering at the faint hope of reciprocated feelings and the possibility of something more, you silently accept the suggestion.
Climbing on the bed, you hop on his lower back, gradually and slowly laying your bodyweight on him.
"Is this okay?" You're finally settled, and he groans in an infinitely relieved exhale.
"More than okay." One of his hands slips away from under his pillow to tap on your thigh, nearly making you jump. "Continue, it was so good."
Trying to ignore his hand still resting two millimetres away from your leg, you resume the massage, searching for more knots over his broad back.
"That's it, that's it, oh fuck- ugh" His voice sultry and raspier, he flexes his back muscles involuntarily the second you finally reach the spot.
You have to use all that's left of your self control not to accidentally clench your cunt on his lower back. But you can't help it. Wearing a skirt wasn't the best idea today.
The way he's slightly squirming underneath you as you massage his huge shoulders, the way your clothed clit rubs against his skin with the motions have you shivering lightly.
"Yeah- oh, fuck" Your hands are behind his neck, undoing all the aches and rigidity from hours of hunching over his desk, of not taking long coveted breaks.
"I'm done, my arms are starting to hurt." You announce, partially true. You also couldn't stand his noises anymore, all the obscene groans and rough moans, fearing he might start feeling now wet you've actually gotten in the meantime.
In a surge of confidence, you lean forward, more or less intentionally letting your breasts squeeze flush against his back, and you kiss his cheek, soft and tender.
He's surprised and flustered for a flashing second, before letting a smirk tug at the corners of his mouth.
"Let me give you one too, cariño."
You shiver at the pet name, hearing him talk this way to you for the first time.
How could you possibly say no?
You lay on the bed where he had been, feeling the clean sheets warm and infused with his musk.
The mattress dips, springs creaking slightly as he adjusts his weight, finally straddling your upper thighs. Your breathing quickens in shock, not having expected him to take the same position as you did. You feel his weight on you, grounding you.
His broad hands start at your shoulders, questionably innocent at first. But just as you start to think that there isn't more to the way he's sat behind your ass, to the way he's touching you, his palms drift away from the usual motions of the massage he is supposed to give you.
Expert, cursory fingers pretend to knead down, to your waist, gripping hard.
You start feeling your pulse in your neck.
One of his thighs flexes on your side as he slightly adjusts, lifting himself a mere inch above you and settling back down. Only this time, you can feel his erection through his sweats, snugly sat between the globes of your ass.
Leaning forward, his grip on your waist remains strong as he slightly grinds his cock on you from behind, his hands mimicking his rhythm as if things aren't already obvious. It's still a massage, it's just not his main goal.
"Mm- Miguel-" you attempt to protest, only it comes out as a moan laced with anticipating pleasure.
A broad, warm hand slowly and unabashedly moves from your waist up to your shoulder, only for a mere second kneading the tensed muscles before drifting down. His fingers ever so slightly slip underneath you as he palms your right breast, not stopping his hips from rubbing his dick against you.
He's slow and careful, as if still hoping you hadn't noticed or aren't bothered to ask him to get off, even through your mewls and his moaned name.
“You're so..” He speaks quietly, for himself, “soft, and fragile-” He leans forward, much like you did, but instead he kisses your neck, down your spine. “I wanna-”
He leaves the voiced desire unfinished as he picks your torso up to his chest, his arms encompassing you, flipping you around.
Now with your body trapped in his embrace, thighs between his and hands squished together, he kisses your flushed cheeks with fervour.
“Tell me to stop.” A low whisper below your ear. Watching your face for any trace of doubt, you shake your head, ‘no’.
‘Don’t stop.’
Placing you back down on the mattress, he bunches your skirt up to your middle, moving your panties to the side as his other hand takes his rock hard cock out of his sweats.
You feel the precum coated head flush against your pussy lips, pushing in with a gravel groan.
As soon as he gathers the courage to advance, his length grazes your clit, your hips automatically jerking away, akin to having touched hot coal.
A shiver runs down your spine that makes your cunt flutter, his awaiting cock twitching in enthusiasm. He feels you spasm and grow wetter.
“Ugh, that- you feel so good-”
He’s only taking his time before he can bottom out inside you. With a look over your shoulder, you don’t trust your voice to respond. You nod and clench your pussy around him, aiming to viciously drive him mad.
He suddenly pushes forward, hands forcing you onto him, the contact with his own blazing flesh making your brain melt and eyes roll back into your head. You can almost feel his bulbous tip in your guts, messing with your nerves and sinews.
Quickly adapting to the new conditions your body has given him, he corrects his grip on your waist, hoisting you until your feet lose contact with the bed. Back now arched, ass well-adjusted to meet his height, upper body rested on the plush pillows. He drags out halfway before sinking back in.
His hips slowly rotate against yours, his tense abdomen waving into you
You can’t take it anymore. Your limbs feel like radio-static, heart sending its pulse into your pussy, breathing laboured and synced with his. The broad head flicks a spot deep inside you that curves your spine this time, feet no longer able to find balance away from the stimulation.
A strong forearm curls around your middle with snake-like speed. You settle obediently back into his hold.
Your hips wiggle closer into his, apologetically stuffing yourself full of him. He smirks at the gesture, satisfied.
“Fuck, Miguel-”, you moan for him, giving him exactly what he wanted before he started pounding into you.
A combination of his pelvis slamming into yours and his hands violently dragging you back onto his dick has high-pitched whimpers crawling out of your throat. Your head rings with the sound of the bed squeaking back and forth along with the harsh returns of his cock in between your come-soaked folds.
His firm hands hold you from flinching, fingers digging into your waist while his thumbs press down into your lower back.
It's when he changes his angle that you scream out, all consciousness dissolving into raw, carnal bliss. Ruptured cries and fractions of his name bloom out of your nearly-dry throat.
He feels his heavy cock pulsate as your ass jolts with each slap, your pussy choking his dick in the process.
With a suffocating groan, he releases inside you, his ecstasy drawn-out into fractured grunts blended with heavy breaths.
You sense his warm come spilling inside you. Your own climax sends your head spinning, your loud pulse dropping in your ears.
The thunder subsides through your veins like a candle being put out by the cold.
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a/n: sorry for the delay i have a ton of stuff to do for college 💀
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musamulta · 1 year
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I'm attempting to find some new blogs to follow!
Dragon Age
Teen Wolf
World of Warcraft
Twilight
Witcher (Netflix or other)
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augustinewrites · 6 months
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satoru bday fic! cw: suggestive
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gojo thinks he should be nominated for boyfriend of the year.
not only had he managed to get the kids to school on time, pick up the groceries, get all his reports in to principal yaga, and clean the kitchen, but he’d managed to do it all while extremely hungover on his birthday. 
he’d even managed to do it all before you’d even gotten out of bed.
he doesn’t blame you for sleeping in. the impromptu birthday party he’d thrown had left you all in quite the state by the early hours of morning. you need the re—
“satoru! could you come in here for a second?”
“coming!” he calls back, shoving the coupon that’d fallen from shoko’s birthday card into his wallet before making his way to the bedroom. “hey, let’s get some frozen yogurt when the kids get ho— holy shit.”
your face breaks out into a grin of triumph at his sudden silence. gojo’s rightfully stunned, carefully studying each bit of revealing lace and the way it sits against your body before committing it to memory. 
“is that…”
“the set you had commissioned in paris,” you hum, nonchalant as you drag your fingertips up your hip. “that’s the one.”
he takes a few slow steps toward where you are and takes a seat at the edge of the bed, arousal warming his whole body. “but you said you’d never wear it because—”
“because i was saving it for something special,” you finish, leaning up and shifting towards him. “like your birthday.” 
“well,” he sighs as you close the distance between you. “i should unwrap my gift then.”
“please try not to tear it,” you murmur as his lips brush over your pulse. “i’d very much like to wear it again, and i, oh, i saw the charge on the credit card…”
his reply is no more than a distracted hum as you shift onto his lap, allowing curious hands to explore your body and hungry lips to move against yours. 
the lace is soft on your skin, his hands eagerly working to undo the ties holding up delicate florals and sheer material. 
“satoru, i need you.” your breath is warm against his skin, exciting him more as he goes to pull off garter belt.
“uh, babe?”
“hm?”
“how do you take this off?”
_____
“well, i connected it to this piece—”
“but we can’t take this piece off unless we take this one off too. that doesn’t make any sense.” 
“i’m telling you, that’s how i put it on.”
“then why won’t it come off?”
it’s then that gojo decides custom lingerie should come with instructions. when he’d designed it, he hadn’t actually considered the logistics of this operation.
“okay,” you huff, turning around and placing your hands on his shoulders. “you’re just going to have to tear it.”
“fine by me,” he grins, slightly smug as he curls his fingers around the expensive material and tears—
the two of you scramble up when the front door slams open. it’s in that moment you realize that satoru hadn’t closed the bedroom door. 
“mom!” you hear megumi shout, his stomps echoing through the apartment. “tsumiki ate one of my snacks!”
“shit, fuck.” cursing, you grab his discarded t-shirt and slip it on before jumping into bed. satoru slips in next to you, pulling the duvet up to your chins and pressing against you from behind.
“satoru!” you hiss when you feel something poke the back of your thigh. 
“we just made out for like ten minutes,” he whispers back, only pulling you closer. “you didn’t think i’d get one?”
“put it away!”
“i could, but—”
you manage to summon one of your divine dogs in time for it push the bedroom door closed, breathing a sigh of relief when the kid’s footsteps come to a halt. 
“we’ll be out in a second!” you call, hearing their hushed argument as they trudge back to the kitchen.
“i might need more than a second…”
you hit satoru in the face with a pillow. “you’ll get the rest of your birthday gift tonight, after you drop the kids off at nanami’s.
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⋆ 「 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐦𝐢’𝐬 (𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞) 𝐦𝐨𝐦. 」 ⋆
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feat. — toji fushiguro x f!reader, kid!megumi
word count. — 1.4k
content. — sfw, non-sorcerer au, established relationship (marriage), mostly just fluffy domestic stuff, reader is addressed as ‘mom/mama/mommy,’ toji’s kind of a bad parent but he’s working on it, brief mention of toji smoking (cigarettes), overprotective!toji, very minor suggestive themes (from toji 🙄 he’s a walking cw/tw)
notes. — idk. this has been incessantly on my brain pretty much from the moment i  woke up today, even to the point where i was writing half of this at  the laundromat lmao. mother’s day yesterday had me feeling some type of way, so here have some fun headcanons from a strange eldest daughter!!!! (i might end up doing a set of these for gojo x reader too 🤔)
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⋆ 「 — he’s not your biological son, but you’ve been around since you started seeing toji when megumi was still a baby. but now, a few years later, you might as well be his real mother. you certainly act like it and feel like it, so toji gladly initiates the conversation about official adoption. it just makes sense. you eventually explain the situation to megumi as best as you can simply so that he doesn't grow up thinking he was lied to or anything of the sort, but as far as he's concerned, you're his mom whether it's by blood or not.
⋆ 「 — and oh, megumi’s a mama’s boy. i imagine he’s just a little bit of a healthier kid vs. canon given the better family situation, but he’s still always a bit of a grumpy baby, appreciating his autonomy and trying to be as self-sufficient and mature as he can be. but he’ll most certainly run to you when he needs help, is truly hurt, or just needing a bit of comfort. you’ve always treated him so softly and kindly with understanding, so he honestly feels more comfortable coming to you most of the time instead of his dad.
⋆ 「 — he likes the way you organize the bookshelf in his room or fold and sort his clothes in special little ways. he gets upset any time toji tries to put a book back in the wrong place or can’t figure out where his damn socks are. gumi will scowl and say, “that’s not where it goes.” or go deadpan and be like, “mom always keeps the socks in the bottom drawer.” disappointed that his father can’t even remember. toji just grumbles and says, “your mama’s gonna ruin you.”
⋆ 「 — has called you 'mom' basically since he was old enough, but don't let him fool you. megumi will drop the big boy act and come out with 'mama' or 'mommy' when something's wrong or he's really excited. he'll come to you with quiet tears and sniffles, a little ashamed that he's crying, but present to you a scraped elbow, "mama... it hurts." you clean up the scrape and explain to him the little medical details in a somewhat understandable way to help him focus on something besides the pain, and you tell him that it'll be okay, and that it's alright to cry. or on the flip-side, you and toji take him to the zoo, little gumi on his dad's shoulders, and he gasps and points excitedly, "look, mommy! look at the big elephant!" and it feels incredible to see him be so spirited.
⋆ 「 — along the lines of the art from this post and the thought i had about it earlier, just imagine that you're at some event (maybe like a birthday party or something), and toji's been hauling megumi around. they're both so over it at this point and are like 'please get me out of this' so as soon as toji walks past the obnoxious inflatable bouncy house, he smirks and just YEETS that kid inside without a second thought. after regaining his breath, megumi just looks at his father with the most EVIL little scowl as other kids bounce around him with smiles. by the look on that child's face you could've swore that his father had just done him the ultimate betrayal.
so gumi slides out and hurriedly makes his way over to where you're sitting off to the side, quietly climbing into your lap for a little bit of solace. he wiggles in close to your chest and you tuck him under your chin with a ‘come here, sweetpea,’ rocking slowly and humming something soft because he always seems to like it when you do.
toji comes over and you look at him through narrowed eyes. "kids are supposed to like shit like that," he says.
"you know he likes when things are more quiet," you respond, and toji rolls his eyes at how you seemingly spoil your son.
"just thought it might be good for him to try and get along with the other brats." toji tries to cover up the fact that he tossed his kid for the sheer personal enjoyment of it.
you huff in disbelief. "oh, like you get along so well with everyone?"
he scoffs and moves in behind you, leaning down to place a kiss on your neck. "i get along with you," he says almost suggestively.
you just keep stroking megumi's hair and give the top of his head a gentle kiss. "yeah, well not today," you say, shooting a smug, resolute smile towards your husband, ultimately taking his son's side.
⋆ 「 — outside of his alone time, megumi would honestly much rather be with you instead of other children. toji thinks it's probably unhealthy and you're inclined to agree, but you also don't want to force megumi into situations that will just make him miserable. so, when appropriate, you don't mind at all pacing around with him in your arms or have him walk next to you (maybe holding your hand if he’s not in a ‘big boy’ mood), teaching him about the things you see in the woods, the park, or even the museum. when toji's not away working, he'll join too because it admittedly makes his heart feel soft to watch you two together. it always has, because you've been doing this with megumi since he was a baby. it never gets old. if it wasn't already so difficult trying to figure out how to do things right by his son, he'd want you to give him even more babies.
⋆ 「 — megumi likes doing things with his dad sometimes too, though. toji tries his best to do it right and watch both his mouth and his temper. you like seeing them getting along, even if it's just quietly watching tv or a movie (probably a cartoon where toji gets kind of into and will ask the occasional question like "why does that one stupid chick keep doing that?" and megumi just shrugs like, "i dunno. she is pretty dumb.") or playing ball outside because gumi's starting to show some athleticism. but you have to remind toji that he can't always be so rough or competitive with games because megumi is literally a child.
⋆ 「 — toji can also be way too overprotective of you two at times. you'll be out and about and he'll just be wearing such an intimidating expression as he walks behind you both, on the lookout for anyone who might want to cause trouble or take the wrong sort of glance at his wife. he'll even snap at people for walking too close or like cutting in line or something petty, and you have to tell him stop acting like an attack dog and looking like the grim reaper because dear god you're literally just having lunch at the park. even at his age, megumi's just eating his ice cream and looking at his dad with his little baby deadpan expression and thinking "this man really needs to take a chill pill." other times he can be more relaxed, however, obviously confident in his ability to protect you. it depends on his mood. but that still doesn’t stop him from being embarrassing and going off on people in public if something happens.
⋆ 「 — you also know all of gumi’s favorite meals and snacks. it’s yet another one of those things where, if his dad does it wrong, megumi expresses a disappointment beyond his years. toji will be making and packing his son’s school lunch just as instructed by the notes you gave him, but it’s by no means as neat and meticulous as when you do it. toji’s got a cigarette hanging out of his mouth with furrowed, concentrating brows, his free hand shakily reaching for a cup of fresh coffee, and megumi’s standing there with his little backpack, criticizing his father the entire time. “mom doesn’t do it like that,” he says.
“well mom ain’t here right now. and it doesn’t matter how the sandwich is cut, is still tastes the damn same.”
gumi doesn’t even physically react, still wearing the same neutral expression, just waiting for his dad to hurry up. “mom says you shouldn’t smoke. and she also says not to use bad words.”
toji scoffs and then smirks. “well mommy uses all sorts of bad words you don’t even know about when her and daddy have play time.”
megumi’s already almost late for school and can barely feel his feet from how tight his dad tied his shoelaces. he also asks you later about “play time,” and you want to absolutely murder your husband over it.
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queertransetc · 11 months
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- ED trigger warning -
Being skinny ruined my life. If you’re thin and think to yourself, “why don’t fat people just lose weight?” Please read this
I was the “ideal fat” in the sense that I did everything skinny people wanted me to do. I tried every diet in the book. I exercised regularly. I worked with doctors and dietitians to figure out the best way to lose weight. But nothing worked. I did everything “right” to lose weight, and my weight stayed the same
But the thin people in my life kept telling me that I wouldn’t be happy, attractive, healthy, etc. until I lost weight. So, heartbroken, I came to the conclusion that anorexia was the only option left. It felt safer than bariatric surgery, and was obviously much more affordable
I became the perfect anorexic. 700 cal a day or less, except once a week I allowed myself 1400 cal. For reference, my body required at least 2800 to maintain weight, and at least 1800 to keep my organs and stuff fully functioning. Still, 700 a day, I persisted because everyone in my life told me weight loss was all that mattered. If dieting didn’t work, anorexia had to
And it did. My weight dropped all the way down to 110 pounds. I was skinny - underweight, even - in all sense of the word. The people in my life saw it as a miracle. The ultimate success story. My mother, my “friends,” my doctors, they all congratulated me on my accomplishment
When I confessed my eating disorder to my doctor, he told me, “that’s not the best way to go about it, but I’m glad you lost the weight.” My mother took pictures of me and sent them to relatives to brag
Okay, great. I was skinny. I did what I set out to do. But there were severe consequences
The most obvious was my joint pain doubled, maybe even tripled, to the point that I couldn’t leave the house without a wheelchair
I also developed several health complications, including fatty liver disease and extremely painful GERD. I had to see a handful of specialists and get an endoscopy because of severe stomach pain
My partner, who was the only person who saw my weight loss for what it was (a horrible thing that only happened because of an eating disorder), convinced me to enter a recovery program
For nearly a year, I relearned how to feed myself. I ate everything I was told to eat, nothing more and nothing less. My diet was 100% in the hands of somebody else
And I gained back every pound I has lost. All of the work to become thin went right out the window. It was proven to me that thinness and health were incompatible with my body. If I wanted to be thin, I had to forgo my physical and mental well-being. And vise-versa
Prior to the anorexia, I never once struggled with binge eating. I was naturally an intuitive eater, and I did a good job of having a well rounded diet. After the anorexia, after recovery, I developed a binge eating disorder. I had spent so long starving myself, that my brain and body got stuck in survival mode, desperate to consume any and all calories out of fear that I might starve again. To this day I struggle with binge eating
I did everything thin people wanted of me. I dieted. I exercised. And when all else failed, I starved myself. Now I have liver disease, stomach issues, and BED. Not to mention the loads of mental issues that accumulated as a result of my weight loss journey. During the throes of my anorexia, I had to be hospitalized for suicidal ideation
When you tell fat people to “just lose weight” you are suggesting they give themselves illnesses for which treatments are not always effective. You are asking fat people to destroy their stomachs and livers. When a fat person loses so much weight that they become skinny, they are likely giving up so much of their health in efforts to be treated like a human being
If you’re thin, do your part. Treat fat people like people before we tear our bodies apart
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native2princess · 1 month
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boat ride — rafe cameron
summary: rafe making it up to you after arguing over his ex-girlfriend sofia.
warnings/notes: fluff, pogue reader but it's not like a big part of the plot, soft!rafe. genuinely think this might be the first time i’ve written something that isn’t sexual/suggestive for rafe 😭 i need help. but i’m trying to write more fluff for him :) if you have any requests please send them! <33 love u all sm. also thanks to @starkeysprincess, my baby, for giving me the idea of a cute boat date that inspired this idea in my head !!!! <3333
pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader
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“i just don’t get why you still need her in your phone, and why she still stays texting your phone!” you get defensive while sat in your boyfriend passenger seat. this was the second time you’d gotten in an argument over his ex-girlfriend, sofia. you trusted rafe, if you didn’t you wouldn’t be with him, but the thing was that; you didn’t trust her. her little texts asking rafe ‘how he was’ or ‘if he was busy and wanted to come over', you’d had enough.
“really? you’re going to genuinely get upset over this?”, rafe scoffed and pinched the bridge of his nose. part of him thought it was funny, only because the thought of you thinking that he wanted anyone else was humorous to him. he literally wanted to marry you, and some random ex-girlfriend in his phone was the last thing on his mind.
“yes rafe,” your eyes widened, waiting for him to say something. “yes i am.”
“s’fuckin’ stupid.” his right hand gripped the wheel, pissed off that you were so upset about his ex still being in his phone despite him always shutting her down. the thing that made you so upset about the whole situation was the fact that he let her down in the nicest ways possible. 'sorry, can't make it. maybe another time." sorry? what the fuck was he sorry for? maybe another time? does he want to see her?
“take me home.” you give up. you couldn’t be bothered to argue with him over this right now. your point always went straight over his head.
“are you serious?”
“does it look like i’m joking?” you pretend to scavenge for something in your purse, embarrassed that this was the second time you had to bring up this issue with rafe. did he not love you enough to just listen to you and block her?
rafe didn’t say anything, but instead put his truck in drive and made his way to your house, it was a silent 10 minutes.
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your argument with rafe was long gone, you didn’t bring it up and neither did he. the ignorance was bliss for you, you liked to hope that after dropping you off at home and watching you silently tear up in his truck that night, that maybe he went home and blocked sofia.
you knew that wasn’t what went down, but the thought of anything else happening made you sick. so, you figured never bringing it up again would be more beneficial, even though you wanted to so badly.
“wanna go for a boat ride?” rafe let his phone fall to his chest and let out a yawn, both his hands making their way up your thighs that were rested on his legs. you two had tanneyhill all to yourselves, and sitting on the living room couch both occupied in your own tiktok for you pages was how you’d spent your time so far.
“sure,” you reply softly. one thing you loved about dating a rich kook was getting to ‘casually’ take a boat ride.
“cmon.” rafe pulled you out of your slumped position on the couch. "gotta surprise for you."
you smiled at him, wondering what the surprise could be. rafe wasn't always the best with surprises and such, but the bug smile on his made you think that maybe this time it would be different. his eagerness reminded you of a little boy on christmas.
"after you ma'lady," rafe chuckled and put his arm out, signaling for you to make your way out to the dock before him. he followed after you, "close your eyes." he took both hands and wrapped them around your face, covering your eyes.
"rafe!" you giggle. almost losing your balance, your grip onto his big arms, feeling safe when they're wrapped around you.
"hey! no peeking."
"i cant! with your big ass hands in my face!" the huge grin on your voice could be heard just through your voice.
"m'kay, ready?" rafe gets closer to you, his chest pressed up against back, he leaves a kiss on your ear.
"yes!" you couldn't contain your excitement anymore, you needed to know what your boyfriend had planned for you.
rafe dropped his hands from your eyes, but you kept one arm wrapped around his, not wanting to let go of him.
you were speechless. the string lights set up perfectly, complimenting the pink and blue sky, the wicker basket filled with all your favorite snacks, the white blanket laid across the floor of the boat, the pink and red (your favorite colors) colored gift boxes set up neatly, just waiting for you to open them.
no one had ever done anything like this for you before, tears welt up in your eyes, you buried yourself in rafe's chest, leaving a few tear stains on his grey t-shirt.
"i love you baby," rafe gave you a quick peck on the head. your tears and reaction almost getting a reaction out of him. seeing you with the biggest grin on your face had rafe literally doing cartwheels in his head. he swore he'd never love someone as much as he loved you, but there he was, spending all his money and time trying to make you happy.
"all this for me rafey?" you looked up at him with teary eyes. puckering your lips, waiting for him to give you a kiss, he does of course.
"well who else would it be for?"
rafe's ego would never let himself admit that this was all because he felt bad for arguing over his ex-girlfriend, but you knew it was. rafe had a soft spot for you and you loved it.
"i love you rafe."
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rimunagenius · 1 month
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It’s Time You Switch
ʚ pairing: Paige Bueckers x reader
ʚ word count: 4.4k words
ʚ prompt: “Fuck your boyfriend, he a bitch. I think it’s time you switch.”
ʚ warnings: RPF!! , smut!!, voyeurism, dirty talk?, face riding, fingering, oral reader!receiving, basically porn with little plot
ʚ rimunagenius speaks: in which Paige turns straight girls ;) i have not written smut since my wattpad era so im sooo insanely rusty but i also have never felt the touch of a woman romantically sooo idek if this will be any good…suggestions are welcome to make it better!! and for future works!!
| Masterlist | Women’s Basketball Masterlist |
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"I don't know what I did to him, though. That's what I can't let go. He's being so dry and cold." You told the team as you did dynamic warm up before practice started.
Coach G just shook his head, listening to all your guy problems. This was just another boy for him to hate on campus. At this rate, the whole male and female population at UConn was on his shit list.
"I say, you dump him." KK said, patting your back mid walking lunge. "He's been doing this for months now, it's time to drop him, girl boo.” You told KK a lot of things. She was just a freshman but she become a quick and good friend.
You met her in a class you had been taking and started talking, soon finding out you were both on the same team. It shocked her, but after finding out you stayed off social media, the press release of her committing was new news. You were a senior and she was a freshman, but this friendship was like you two knew eachother forever.
"Yeah, I agree with K." Paige said, from the other side of you. A soft, comforting smile on her face.
"You know what could fix this? A girls night." Aaliyah smiled, her eyebrows wiggling suggesting you guys go out.
"I know you're not planning to go out, get drunk on the night before a game." Coach yelled from his seat on the bench.
"But Coach, c'mon! My girls feeling sad." Paige feigned a pout, grabbing your shoulders and pointing your face, you pouting your lips and batting your lashes.
"Nah, it's okay. I don't really want to go out anyways. Staying in is the move." You sighed, the stretching finished.
You talked about it all practice—sad about it all practice. After, Paige suggested you come over to her place, a sleepover. You begrudgingly agreed. Telling her she needed to take you home to get some clothes; Paige shutting it down because you could borrow hers.
That was the first mistake. It didn't feel like a mistake in the end but that was the first step to a very confusing day afterwards. The second, sharing a bed with the blonde.
You both decided to lay in her bed, get fat on snacks, and watch all the movies you could before getting sleepy and tapping out for the night. I guess Paige had another tapping in mind.
"You know he doesn't deserve you so why do you stay with him?" Paige disregarded the movie, turning her head slightly to look at you.
"He does deserve me, he's just struggling, I guess." You shrugged your shoulders, dwelling on the fact that you couldn't figure out what he was actually struggling with.
"Fuck your boyfriend. He's a bitch for the way he's acting with a pretty girl like you." Paige got passionate about defending her friends. Especially when someone in their life wasn't treating them right. She was more of a protector. A fierce one.
"Paige, that's a little mean."
"It's true. It's time you switched. I'm telling you, girls are so much less complicated. They're easier to read and better at communicating." Paige smirked to you, knowing you wouldn't shoot for it.
"Please, if I knew how, I would." You rolled your eyes, looking down, shoving a potato chip in your mouth.
Paige's eyes went wide. There's no way you were actually serious. You looked like the straightest of straight girls, a very attractive one. Which is why she thought it sucked you didn't swing that way. "No way, are you serious?" She laughed.
"Yeah, but I dont even think I like girls like that." You furrowed your brows. You never actually thought about it. You had no idea if the "girl crushes" you had were actually crushes.
"What does that mean?"
"Like, I've seen girls and thought they were super attractive. I'd wonder what it'd be like to kiss them, and I used to say i’d treat them better than their actual boyfriends, but I didn't think that far." That set it off for Paige. That's how it started. First you thought about what it'd be like to kiss a girl, then to date, and then to fuck.
"Have you ever thought about dating them?" Paige already knew where this was going.
"Yeah sort of. But I was always with him that it was whatever." You looked to Paige.
"Well it's time you switch." She smiled smugly at you, shrugging her shoulders. "I'm down to show you how." That was the most forward Paige had ever been with a girl. She knew it was swaying you, the contemplation clouding your vision, deep in thought.
"What do you mean 'show me'? Like how to fuck?" Your brows furrowed as you questioned the blonde beside you.
"That's exactly what I mean..." Paige's eyes watched yours, waiting for the green light.
"Okay." Suddenly the air in your lungs disappeared when Paige grabbed your face and kissed you deeply. She wanted this for so long. You and her had been bestfriends all throughout your childhood. She had even told Geno he couldn't give her an offer without giving you one. Your skills in basketball were exceptional, your work ethic and athleticism and ability to work with people around you. You and Paige made a great team.
She had admired everything about you for as long as she could remember. She was just waiting on you. You moaned into the kiss, opening your legs so she could slot her body between yours, achieving the best angle to kiss you.
Something in you felt like this was all muscle memory. Like you two have done this before. Her hands moved to your hips, her grip firm but so soft. You two kicking the snacks off the bed, not caring about the mess that was to be made.
"Imma take your clothes off...that okay?" Paige's lips trailed down the collumn of your neck, moaning at the sensation your body sparked throughout her body.
"Yeah, okay. Please." Instantaneously Paige's fingers dropped the the waistband of your pajama shorts, and the waistband of your underwear. The feeling of lace pulling a groan from the blondes throat. Ridding you of your pants and underwear, her hand grabbed the hem of your shirt—her shirt, sliding it up.
You sat up, pulling it off, panting softly. You couldn't believe this was happening. The least you expected from this sleepover was hooking up with your bestfriend, in her bed, on a friday night. You then grabbed Paige's face, needing her lips on yours like you were a woman starved.
Paige was a sweetheart; a golden retriever, kind, and good person...but when it came to her game, on and off the court, she was literally a cocky fuck boy who could prove they could get into your pants. She was a respectful woman, one of the best even, but the second mutual interest was involved; game over.
While making out, her hand cupping your breast over the padding of your bra, the only clothing you seemed to have on left, she bit your bottom lip, slightly tugging on it with her teeth. Your back arched, moaning at the sensation she was able to wash your body in, she quickly unclasped your bra, sliding the straps off when you were flat on your back.
Having the soft skin of yours exposed, she slowed her movements, dodging your face when you tried to kiss her again. "Show me how he got you off." The sentence shocked you.
"Huh?" You looked at her, her eyes having the same challenging look. She knew she'd do ten times better than he ever could. Plus, it helped that her anatomy and your anatomy were the same...meaning, she knew where everything was.
"You heard me, show me what he did for you, so I can show you that I can do it better." Her long hair falling on her shoulders, she slid her Huskies t-shirt off, leaving her in a black sports bra.
You shifted on the bed, nervous but willing. She already had you naked, you were already so wet so you knew when you try and fail to get yourself off like how your ex did, she'd make it better. Paige always made it better.
You reached your hand down, sliding your fingers through your soaking wet cunt, gathering as much as your slick as possible, gasping softly. The feeling of your fingers ghosting your clit, you remembered that you were supposed to be doing this how he did, so you disregarded the spot your body ached and pleaded for physical contact, and jumped straight to inserting two fingers.
You looked at Paige, a look in her eyes you've never seen before. "Wait, he didn't even—?" She was confused but really focused nonetheless. You knew she wasn't really paying attention to what you were doing, she was; she was literally getting soaked at watching you play with yourself, but she just couldn't take her eyes off your pretty pussy. She would never be your 'friend' again after tonight.
You shook your head at her question and continued in fingering your self, curling your fingers at the right spots, maintaining the even yet somewhat hasty pace. Your panting started to get louder, your eyes fluttering closed every now and again. Slowly coaxing yourself to your high, you spread your legs wider, reaching your hand out, signaling Paige you wanted her to grab your hand.
She placed her hand in yours and she was immediately pulled on top of you, your mouth finding hers. Your hand never wavered in the work you were doing on yourself, which is why Paige swallowed the loud moan induced by your orgasm, as you slowly started to slow the rhythm of your fingers, riding out the small orgasm.
You don't know why you did it, you only were conscious of it after you had placed the fingers that were previously inside of you, into her mouth. Your jaw slack, jus a tiny bit, watching and feeling her lick your fingers, swallowing any trace of your she can hope to find. You couldn’t believe you were behaving like this. So dirty but so willing.
Paige moaned at the action, not trying to deny that what you had done could've made her come alone. She started to drag her lips from yours, to the corner of your lips, to your cheek, all the way to and down your neck, sloppy and lazy but sensual kisses were left in her wake.
She wouldn't dare leave any marks behind, your guys' team would calculate what went down her tonight. So she settled for non-visible hickeys. When her lips met your breasts, she took her sweet time with both. Her tongue swirling around your taught nipple, her free hand kneeding the other.
Your back was already arching off the bed, hands tugging at the sheets below you. The soft cries leaving your lips egging her on.
She moved across the other breast, a trail of purple and red trailing the way, her hand switched places. You couldn't take this...you needed her somewhere else. You loved this but holy was she dragging it out.
Before you could even ask—beg, her to move where you were so desperately wanting her, her hand was already spreading your leg open, lips following a foreign, yet so familiar path, all the way down to the curve of your thighs.
She started slowly, opting to tease you, but also educate you like she promised. You understood the significance of foreplay, hell you craved it in your evidently clear soon to be previous relationship, but you couldn't take the ache your pussy had for Paige. It's like it knew you needed her all along. It didn't help that you hated the prolonged attention, but also loved it. Watching her worship your body was something so unexplainably attractive.
The way she slowly placed soft kisses from your knees, massaging the soft skin of your calf's along the way, all the way up your thigh. The closer her lips got to your center, the more antsy you became. You needed her mouth to connect already. You couldn't take it anymore.
"Oh, my god. Paige...please." You sighed, your panting growing more and more viscous.
"Please what, gorgeous?" Her lips ghosted over your wet folds as she moved to the other leg, now blatantly teasing the fuck out of you, while she smiled and kissed every expanse she could.
"Please just eat my pussy already. I can't take it." You almost cried begging her to finally do something. She had you masturbate infront of her for christ sake.
"Whatever you want." She looked into your eyes, her pupils blown, a blissed out smile and haze on her face. Almost immediately after, her face disappeared in between your legs. Paige licked a stripe up your soaking cunt, from the entrance all the way to the most sensitive nerve ending.
The sound that escaped your mouth was borderline pornographic as the built up arousal finally was being tended to. The feeling of her slick tongue running one more stripe through your folds before swirling around your clit was something you absolutely could not imagine. Your mind in a foggy mess.
"You taste so sweet, baby." The name leaving her mouth ignited fuzziness that you felt in your toes all the way to your scalp. Her voice hoarse, mouth glistening from you, you could never get this sight out of your head; nor did you want to.
"Ohhhh, my god." It came out like a pure cry. The choked moans mixed with tears and strained sobs, elicited a newfound hunger in Paige.
Her mouth doing double time, her tongue swirling and licking perfectly paced, her lips sucking and kissing all the right places at the right time, started to build up the coil in your belly. The feeling growing more and more intense the more she praised you from between your legs. "You're doing so good for me, baby." You couldn't even breathe.
The coil snapping, the tension in your belly now releasing, a gushing mess now painted Paige's gorgeous face, your mouth agape.
You couldn't help but scream...almost. Your moan so loud, Paige covered your mouth with her hand. "Shh, don't want the neighbors to hear." Paige panted softly in your ear, before cracking the signature smirk.
The smugness she had while she saw the aftermath of what seemed to be the best orgasm you have ever had in your life. Your breathing still shallow, your chest heaving, the pattern of the way it rises and falls mesmerizes Paige. Her ego being fed tremendously watching the way you fell apart just by her going down on you.
She couldn't help but want to brag to your ex that he couldn't even make you feel half of what she just did. The accomplishment of getting you to look like this in her bed, your breath fanning over her face as she hovered over you, the accomplishment in having you like this, with her in her bed, was truly a miracle.
Paige loved it. She could go this whole night just fulfilling your needs, showing you everything you missed out on in your pointless one sided relationship. She intended to.
"Oh, my god. That was—" You stopped, your breath finally returning. "That was fucking amazing." You looked at the blonde who seemed to be content watching you fall apart.
The smugness on her face but the adoration of you being here, pure evidence that she was enjoying every second of it. "It was. Didn't know you were a screamer." The cocky Paige returned, forgetting keeping the moment remotely intimate. You smacked her arm that rested next to your body, and grabbed her face and kissed her.
You caught her off guard, her mouth open due to a small gasp, and took that as your chance to slide your tongue in her mouth. You two made out like horny teenagers. You two weren't that far from being teenagers, that was only a couple years ago, but you two made eachother feel like two young kids, absolutely enamored with the idea of each other that you couldn't get off of eachother.
You two made out, you slowly turning yourself so you could be on top. Paige knew what you were trying to do, allowing you to take control for now. You oulled apart, looking down at her, picturing this, saving it for the foreseeable future. Chasing your lips, Paige grabbed your face, pulling you into a deepening kiss. You two literally couldn't get enough of eachother.
Before you could even get the rest of Paige's clothes off, she grabbed your hips that were resting on hers, and pulled them forcefully over towards her chest. You gasped and yelped, suprised at the sudden force she was using. Hesitant to follow, you saw her hungry gaze go between your eyes and your now—again, soaking cunt.
There was no way. "Paige, no. Don't even think about it." You warned, a small intimidating look. It normally had an affect on Paige on the court, knowing when she saw it, you talked a big game and backed it up. But right now, in the bedroom, you were hers and she had the control.
Tonight was to show you what you were missing out on, and how to get a girl going. There was no way she'd let you have the control, no matter how much she wanted it. She'd save that for another night. Maybe she was getting too ahead of herself, but there was going to be another night with you.
"What are you talking about?" The smugness returned, along with a feigned clueless look. You couldn't take her serious with the fact that your thighs were damn near putting her in a chokehold, her hands inching you closer and closer to where she wanted you...where she wanted you to sit, preferably.
"Paige, i'm not about to sit on your face." You tried scooting back, forgetting that Paige was actually stronger than you. The ferocity in which she pulled your hips, your pussy ghosting her lips at the force and aim in which she yanked you, a small gasp escaped your sealed lips.
You yanked your hips back, giving her a pointed look. "I was trying to literally fuck you, not trying to sit on your face. Let me make you feel good, baby." Paige knew she could get away with calling you baby, you probably weren't thinking much of it when she said it. But Paige said it with conviction, just the way you did right now.
The name only egged her on when you used it in this context. The only context Paige wanted to hear it in. "Your making me feel good by letting me make you feel good. I promise i'm fine, I just want you to sit this pretty pussy on my face. Will you let me?" Her eyes sincere, the smirk playing on her lips slowly convincing you by the second.
"You promise?" You whispered, suddenly conforming to the blonde underneath you. Something about the way she talked easily convinced you.
"Yeah. Promise." You stared down at her, unsure. Not wanting to crush her, your thighs being pretty full, the muscle you've built over the years, and just the general size being something you've been insecure about since you were a little girl.  She knew that.
That's why when she saw the look on your face, she kissed your thighs. In whatever spot she could reach. She gave you a reassuring nod, smile on her face. Albeit you didn't know what kind—cocky or comforting. Either way, when she said what she did, you immediately obeyed.
"Sit on my face." You then moved both knees eye level with Paige, falling back slightly, your pussy ghosting her lips again. The second you put your full weight on her face, her mouth got to work.
The sensation and new angle elicited some explicit sounds. 'Didn't know you were a screamer' kept replaying in your head when you tried to quiet down the moans only Piage seemed to be able to pull from you, escaped your lips.
Her hands cupped your ass, pressing your body down impossibly closer and harder into her face. She seemed to be pushing so hard, you were scared you were going to suffocate her. Her tongue teased your entrance, swiftly ghosting in and out of it, before lapping at your folds and clit perfectly.
She ate you like a woman starved. Like if this was her last meal. You had enjoyed every second of this exchange. You reached your hand down slowly, softly moving your hand in slow circles on your clit, overstimulating yourself.
Paige took notice of your fingers now getting to work, a gravely groan reverberating into your wet pussy as she looked up at you, and quickly closing her eyes in bliss. She decided that since you wanted to touch yourself, she'd slide a finger or two into you. To really get you going. Wasn’t the most ideal positioning but she was going to make it work.
Her head bobbed subtly, effectively getting her tongue into the small space where her fingers were about to make an appearance. Inserting one finger, Paige watched, felt, and listened to the way your body reacted to her movements.
Using each reaction to her advantage. The small gasp you let out when she inserted herself into you, the way your breathing reluctantly changed pace, so she inserted another, noticing how your breath picked up. That's when she curled her fingers methodically to the pace she set for herself, matching the pace you set while you continued rubbing circles in your clit.
It didn't take long for Paige to brung you closer to the edge while her tongue picked up the slack for your fingers. You stopped your movements and let her do the work, she could tell it was good by the volume your pants and moans were sounding. She was working overtime while you ran your hand over her hair, eventually looking for another anchor to grip to while you violently come undone by your best friend. "Oh, my god. Right there. Don't stop." You panted, your jaw dropped.
Your legs started to shake, Paige's pace relentless while she finger fucked you in her bed, while she simultaneously ate you out. This wasn't the way you expected to spend your night, and neither did Paige, but holy fuck was it worth it.
"Don't you dare stop—Oh!" The coil snapped once again, a guttural cry and moan left your lips. You swore that any person who was passing by Paige's apartment would've thought you were filming porn. The moans you moaned were insane and absolutely the biggest turn on for Paige. She wouldn't lie and say she didn't already get off on just hearing you.
Yeah, she worked at you, and saw your oh so pretty parts, but listening to the affect she had on you, the comparison made between her and your ex and the ego boost that came with it, were just the perfect amount to get her off on just pleasuring you for the last two hours.
Your breath uneven, slowly moving your legs away from her face, your chest still heaving. She chuckled softly, before looking over to you, while you laid yourself next to her. "That's how it's done, baby." Paige held her hand up, trying to signal a high five.
You looked at her blankly, her seeing the absolute fucked our face you had, and then pulled you closer to her. Your body resting against hers; the stark contrast of your overheated body, compared to her cold and cool body.
The contrast easing the overwhelmed feeling you harbored just a little easier. "You did so good for me, baby. You looked so hot while I made you come. Couldn't believe it." You smacked her chest, feeling a little cringed that she had to see you and all the faces you could've made while you had the most earth shattering orgasms.
"Paige. Oh my god, stop." You laughed, she did too, You two laid there for a minute before she broke the silence.
"You're not going back to him, right?" Her voice now withdrawn from the cockiness and confident undertones, and just pure nerves and concern. She hoped you'd say no. That you'd choose to stay with her, and tell her he was just there until you realized your feelings for her were the same as the ones she's had for you all these years.
"No, I'm breaking up with him tomorrow. You think i'd go back to him, when he couldn't do half the shit you did with your tongue alone? Yeah, right." You looked up at Paige, your bestfriend. You couldn't believe this is what your relationship evolved to in a matter of two hours.
"Soo, that means..." Paige was hopeful. She just wanted you to say what she's been wanting to say for years.
"Let's date. I love you, you obviously love me," She looked away, embarrassed, and playfully pushed you away. You grabbed her arm, pulling her back so she could look you in the eyes. "Do you want to be my girlfriend? Serious."
"Serious. I'll be your girlfriend. Finally." Paige kissed you, slowly. Melting into eachother, the weight of the new relationship status now sinking in. You two were ecstatic.
You decided to clean up, showering, again, her inevitably joining you. When you both settled and were ready for bed. Too tired and fucked out to continue the movie—restart the movie—you two had started a while ago, it was quiet and dark in the room when Paige suddenly whispered, "I knew you weren't straight."
"Paige, got to sleep! Oh my god." You chuckled before smacking her with the pillow under your head.
"Jeez! Sorry! But I called it."
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chuluoyi · 7 months
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✎ newlyweds
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- gojo satoru x reader
you and your new husband make out in the most inappropriate place possible
genre: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—in the form of gojo eating you out and some fingering?
note: oh god what have i done… to the anon who requested this, yeah… i’m kinda nervous, and i can't bring myself to proofread it SKADSK pls forgive my sins i’m logging out until tomorrow bye
a part of gojo's love entries
general masterlist
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It began innocently enough, or as innocent as a visit to your husband's office should be.
You had wanted to drop by to simply see him for a bit. Perhaps because right after your wedding, he had been whisked away on missions all over Japan, leaving you with hardly any quality time together. You had been feeling rather lonely as a result.
You had expected over-the-top greetings and maybe some silly jokes, but the instant he spotted you entering the room, he swiftly pulled you close, tracing his fingers along your spine while studying your face intently.
"Satoru?" you tilted your head to the side, clearly confused. However, little did you know, your husband had different thoughts in mind.
He wanted to feast on you so fucking bad.
"My cute little wifey," he purred, a bright smile on his face. He was definitely your stupid husband still, but the way his eyes darken with desire told you that the other side of him had awakened as well.
You frowned in realization. "No, this is—"
But then Satoru quickly took his chance and crashed his needy lips on your soft ones. Taken by surprise, you sank into his arms that held you tight.
"—your office," you gasped amidst his fervent kisses. "Satoru, you can't—mmm!"
"Mm, you talk too much, wifey," he murmured against your mouth, still with that playful grin. "And I most definitely can. I've missed you, you know... just allow me this, please?"
Frankly, you missed him too. It had been a while... it'd be a lie if you said you didn't long for his touch.
Satoru steered you by the waist towards the desk, and then he started peppering your neck and collarbone with kisses.
"Mmm, Satoru—" your hands grasped his silky hair, gently kneading his scalp. The hard surface of desk was uncomfortable on your back, and yet you were still sprawled out there and the heat within you only grew stronger.
You could feel him sigh against your neck and tighten his grip on your hips. And to your surprise, one of his hand suddenly went to grope your chest, and at the same time he sucked on your neck, causing a whimper to escape your lips.
"You make the cutest noises," he grunted, voice husky with lust, and even you felt turned on. “I love it.”
This was so highly inappropriate. This was still his office at Jujutsu High, where anyone could enter at any time. No, more than that, this is public place!
"Satoru—ah—don't..." you were ashamed that your voice didn’t sound firmer, lost in the sensation of how he fondled your breasts. "We can... continue this at home?" you managed to offer, but right at that moment, he sucked hard on your ample bosom, making you gasp.
When had he managed to unbutton the first two buttons of your shirt, and how had you not noticed it until now?!
"Uh-oh, sweetheart," he mumbled against the valley of your chest, lips still practically on your generous mound. "I can't wait that long."
"Mmph…"
"You see, we're still what they call... newlyweds, no?" you could feel his smile grazing your skin and despite yourself, you felt really warm already down there. "Even I'm entitled to this much."
You knew this wasn't right, but—
Just for a while... won't hurt, right?
—and so you took a leapt of faith, betting on him to have locked the door.
Suddenly his head dived between your legs, placing them on his shoulders. His skillful hands moved quickly to push up your tight skirt, part your legs, and toss your underwear away.
"All of this," he cooed, his long, nimble fingers ran down your slit teasingly, and you unwittingly whined, feeling so exposed.
"For me, yeah? Just for me, hmm?"
Then, he began to pleasure you down there. He started trailing his tongue along your moist folds—causing you to let out a sinful moan. From your vantage point, you could see the greed in his bright eyes.
The space between your legs was soaked in no time and you felt your orgasm building fast. You couldn't gather your thoughts or respond coherently as you tossed your head back and writhed in pleasure when his plush lips casually nipped at your wet, delicate flesh. It was overwhelming, almost dizzying, but undeniably wonderful—
"Sa—toru!" you mewled, gripping his hair tight and pulled him even closer. In response, his lips pulled up into a tiny smirk and he lapped with even more fervor.
The way you cried his name made something dark and twisted inside Satoru twitch. You never knew but yes, there was always this darkness ingrained in him— Suguru leaving, the loneliness, the overwhelming power of his Limitless. He thanked all Gods that he had you with him to keep that part of him at bay.
Ah, but when it comes to carnal desires… that twisted side in him would be harmless now, wouldn’t it?
The next thing you knew, you reached your climax and the tension inside you finally burst. You felt your release spilling out of you and to his tongue as you turned into a puddle of broken wails and whimpers. You could only feel, feel and feel everything he brought upon you, as he sucked the living daylights out of your dripping cunt.
You could barely make out Satoru wiping the corner of his lips with that smug smirk. "You taste good as always, darling, and look at you… so, so wet. For me."
Now his beloved wife, and long before that, just you, whom he had cherished for so long. The satisfaction of bringing you to the pinnacle of pleasure was a reward in itself. Witnessing you sopping wet and blissed out like this had always been a part of his most vivid fantasies—ones he knew he could turn into reality.
"So perfect," he murmured, mostly to himself. In his eyes, you had never looked more beautiful.
You heaved, jerking your hips, feeling your sticky, hot walls squelch at nothing and wishing for something—like his fingers, at least, to stretch you out. As if he heard your silent pleas, he pushed two at once, and you were overtaken by spasms of pleasure.
"Hm? Surely this isn’t your limit." Satoru inserted a third finger, chuckling, prodding at that one certain spot there and you actually squealed, tears in your eyes at the feeling of being pushed to your limit.
You were a drenched mess as he fucked you with his fingers—and good lord, did your juices stain even the papers on his desk?
You could barely collect yourself as Satoru dirty talked you—now getting on your eye level, yet still twisting and scissoring his fingers inside you, telling you how much he adored this sight of you so vulnerable exclusively for him like this, and how hard he was getting himself.
"My pretty wife," he groaned, a wolfish grin curling on his lips and a sheen of sweat was palpable on his forehead. You shuddered from the feeling of his breath on your ear and how stimulated you were. “You sure are the prettiest when cumming, huh? Don’t you know what you do to me? Don’t you know it’s taking everything I have—” a grunt, “—not to fuck you senseless?”
You thought you couldn't take this any longer, but just as that thought crossed your mind, you went rigid as your absolute worst nightmare happened. You heard the door to the room click open, and holy hell did you see—
. . .
Megumi.
Stopping right in his tracks.
. . .
How he his eyes widened exponentially at the sight of you, whose skirt was hiked up and legs spread open in front of Satoru—
—who was bent over the desk, trapping you beneath him, his fingers plugged inside you.
. . .
And… that underwear on the floor—
. . .
. . .
The poor soul made a horrified strangled noise, and then bolted away, slamming the door so hard that it rebounded, failing to close entirely.
. . .
. . .
You wanted to die.
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Epilogue
“Tsumiki? Is… Megumi okay? Can I see him?”
“Ah… Nee-san, he’s been having high fever for days now… he’s sleeping.”
“I-is that so… how about I take him to the doctor?”
“Thank you, but… Will Gojo-sensei be there?”
“Uh…”
“I’m really sorry… but he said he didn’t want to see Gojo-sensei for a while…”
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cockaiine · 3 months
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‘ Earned it ’ ft. r.sukuna
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haunted by jujutsu sorcerers, you come to Sukuna for help. after begging to work under him, he agrees. what could the King of Curses possibly have in store for you..?
ɞ⁺ contains: heian era!sukuna x curse user! fem!reader, afab!reader, four arms sukuna, degradation, praise, cussing, riding, choking, hair pulling, mean sukuna, mentions of killing, mentions of blood, making out, unprotected sex, creampie, suggestion of overstim
ɞ⁺ w.c: 3.6k
ɞ⁺ note: thank you to my favorite @sttoru for beta reading! this took forever. hope you enjoy!
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“Couldn’t you just kill her?”
What?
Standing before you is a man that embodies terror—a tremendous body and another pair of arms to make him even more distinct. The name Ryomen Sukuna is a chilling one, so many stories embellished around it. Hearts tremble with fear of each fable. You have heard of all his atrocities, cruelties sorcerers were subject to. But, as you stand in his presence, you begin to realize that these tales barely scratch the surface of his menace.
Adults employed his name to compel sleep, a whispered threat to coax children into slumber. You were no exception, truly. But you were always fierce, a soul unafraid. 
Right. That’s what got you into the mess you’re in right now.
“I’m sorry, my lord. But if that’s your wish, then I shall go ahead and-”
“No-! Wait… please,” you surprise even yourself, words spill forth at their own accord. Your throat grows dry at the way both of them turn to look at you. struggling to maintain composure, you implore, “Please, just one chance. I promise I can make myself useful. I’d do anything. Anything.”
An amused chuckle thunders in Sukuna’s chest. It’s a cruel sound, imposing fear upon your senses. “And.. what exactly makes you think a meek sorcerer like you could be of any use to me?”
He’s almost offended by the notion. Sukuna is in need of no one. Especially not you; a sorcerer that came begging for his help. How ridiculous.
“I-I’m a first grade!” you exclaim, “I can do so many things, I-”
“Shut it.” The nearly-amused expression has been dropped, a somber tone to replace that. Your eyes widen immediately, a telltale sign of the terror you feel. “You are a weak sorcerer. You are nothing. Do you have any argument to make?”
“No, my lord,” your eyes meet the floor in a hard glare, cursing your misfortune. 
You came to Uraume with hope, recalling a past acquaintance. You had not anticipated the drastic change in her. Standing against jujutsu sorcerers was no wise choice. You found yourself haunted down with no other choice.
Perhaps finding a protector would help—someone whom all sorcerers fear, compelled by their dread to leave you unharmed. None other than the King of Curses himself. If you devoted yourself to his service, showing unmatched loyalty, maybe then he’d protect you.
If only life is so forgiving.
You believed Uraume could help. You convinced yourself that alignment with Sukuna's subordinate could forge a safer path for protection. For safety. Yet, the last outcome you could have predicted was a suggestion for your execution.
“Good,” is his sole utterance. Uraume stands a few feet away, silent unless addressed. 
Even with your eyes cast down, you can feel Sukuna’s eyes surveying you, the weight of four eyes is not an easy one. His gaze is empty, one of menace. You do not appear weak, though relative to him you certainly are. However, he trusts Uraume's judgment, convinced there must be a valid reason for your presence.
“I’ll…  think about it,” You hear. Your head lifts abruptly, disbelief mingling with hope at the prospect of succor etched on your face. A sigh escapes you, looking at his hard features. Despite your awareness that Sukuna's motives lack benevolence or goodwill, you grasp at any opportunity presented.
“Thank you,” your knees buckle beneath you. Tears of relief flood your eyes as you continue. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
“You can flee now,” he replies curtly. You weren’t expecting much more anyway. “Uraume, lead her out.”
The curse user complies, leading you from the chambers of the King of Curses. Reaching the exit, you extend a hand toward Uraume before she returns inside.
“Th-thank you…” You muster.
“I’m not the one you’re to thank,” Her gaze is hard as ice,  empty as one’s could be. You were hoping for some warmth, a semblance of assurance in a world so cruel. But who were you kidding; you held no significance to Uraume, who had long forsaken her humanity to serve solely the King of Curses. “Lord Sukuna has the highest authority over your life right now. Don’t screw your chances.”
The door slams in your visage before you can reply. You swallow. Uncertainty begins to bubble into you. What if he changes his mind? What if this was some kind of ruse? 
But it wasn’t, and not too long later you find yourself in Sukuna’s chambers. You hear he’s beaten yet another jujutsu sorcerer, this one remarkable. It’s a surprise to no one. You hope you’re not next.
You’re even given a room to yourself, one you barely leave unless for food. The concept of running into Sukuna terrifies you. 
A loud knock comes from the sliding door, making you flinch. You hasten to it, crouching before the wooden barrier. Your palms lay flat against the surface as you slide it open with ease. Uraume towers above you, her gaze fixed.
“Lord Sukuna requires your immediate attendance,” she tells you.
“I-I’ll be right there,” your breath falters, looking up at the white-haired woman. Uraume stands still. You realize she’s only waiting for you to gather yourself and accompany her. 
You’re quick to oblige, standing up and trying your best to dispel the embarrassing fear displayed over your features. With swift movement, you grab your kosode’s belt and wrap it tightly around your middle. You stand before Uraume, who looks you up and down before simply turning around and walking, expecting you to keep up. 
Anxiety plagues you, your mind racing with all the possibilities of what reason Sukuna would summon you. You’re so preoccupied that you don’t realize Uraume's route isn’t the same one you took to his chamber last time.
Sooner than you anticipate, Uraume takes an abrupt halt by a door. You nearly collide face-first with the finely painted wood. Recoiling, your eyes study the door. Patterns adorn the wood, carved carefully by the hands of a professional. 
The detail on the door captivates you, it makes you wonder if Sukuna has truly observed it even once in his life. Your appreciation of it is short-lived, as Uraume calls you and pulls you out of thought.
“Pay attention or face expulsion,” she hisses before knocking at the door.
A grunted “You may enter,” resonates from inside. The curse user beside you immediately falls to her knees, and you follow path. Her hands lift to the door, which weighs more than yours, and she opens it with a fluid gesture.
“She has arrived, my lord.”
“Very well,” Sukuna utters. Emboldened, you look up, and the sight you’re met with makes your face heat up. There he sits, expression unyielding and gaze inscrutable, his torso is bare—save for the black marks that adorn his chiseled body. On any other day, you would have stopped to admire the sight, but today your eyes go back to staring at your bent knees. “Come in.”
Uraume knows she’s not the one intended, while you know that you are. With great force, you’re capable of pushing yourself up and walking toward the man sitting on the floor.
The door shuts as soon as you step foot into the room, making you flinch. “W-How can I help you, my Lord?”
Quietly, Sukuna hums in thought. His scrutiny of you, trailing to your feet and then meeting your eyes once more, kindles a patent tension within. There’s a sick, twisted desire within you—a desire for the man who would kill you without second thought.
“You said you can do many things, have you not?” He raises a single eyebrow. 
“Indeed, my lord,” You muster. The chamber you stand in is spacious, slowly realizing that you are within his personal quarters—a place few may enter, as you understand it.
“Let’s test that out, shall we?” he says with a sinister smirk. “Do you know how to relieve muscle tension?”
“Certainly, my lord. Do you need any assistance with that?” You speak a little more than necessary. But he doesn’t mind too much. Your vocal cords make a soothing voice anyway. 
“I’d like to see what you're capable of,” he states, malice evident in his tone, prompting you to brace for the potential consequences.
He gestures for you to approach the curtained futon, elevated on what appears to be several stacks of wood. It feels peculiar to see him prone on his stomach, but it affords you an unmatched view of his well-defined back—truly a sight to see.
Whether he trusts you or deems you harmless remains uncertain. Common sense suggests the latter, though you prefer to believe the former to spare yourself from embarrassment.
A small bottle sits beside his bed, a bottle of fine oil. With refined movement, you pick it up, spilling a fair amount on your hand before spreading it gently over his back.
You work silently, kneading hardened flesh. His unique anatomy intrigues you, especially navigating around two sets of arms. Your fingers continue to glide between the muscles, working your way into easing any knots.
Once your fingers reach his neck, a low grunt leaves his lips. You’re surprised… But even more so, the feeling lingering deep within you is becoming harder and harder to ignore. Your thighs squeeze against each other in hopes of relieving some of the heat that’s itching at your core. 
With every stroke of your skilled fingertips, the tension threaded in his muscles ease, all the while the tension between the two of you grows unbearably palpable. 
After a few moments, you grow hot. you pause and slightly loosen the belt of your kosode to cool down. The movement doesn’t go unnoticed by Sukuna, who peeks upwards subtly. He has no shame, raising his head further and looking you up and down. The loosened kosode exposes cleavage, and Sukunua overtly stares.
He pushes himself up, sitting on the bed. Shadows of his frame dance against the curtains surrounding his bed, the room dimly lit by candles. Posture straight, an expression of attendance on your face, you keep your eyes on him and await what he has to say. 
You’re dangerous, Sukuna realizes. You’re not going to make this easy on him. His self-restraint is wearing thin.
“Sit,” He beckons you with a large hand. Albeit hesitant, you oblige and sit on the lifted futon in an awkward position.
There is no denying the way his gaze makes you feel. There’s a sense of vulnerability, and a sense of excitement. You choose to remain silent, waiting patiently for his next move. 
Slowly, he leans his head in your way. Your eyes immediately flit away, heat rising into your face.
“Heh,” He smirks widely, leaning away. “You’re quite amusing, you know that?”
You grow embarrassed, displeased by the way he’s talking. You’re about to comment but ultimately choose to stop yourself from saying something that could get you in trouble.
Sukuna leans forward again, this time a little further from you. The hand he places on the bed for balance dips the fabric down. “Look at me when I address you, human.”
It’s humiliating how he talks to you. For some inexplicable reason, it arouses you all the same. You’re quick to oblige. Sukuna can feel his cock harden in his pants at the way you bat your lashes his way. He knew there was something so enticing about you the moment he saw you walking behind Uraume, even more now under the dim lights and in the revealing silk. He wants a piece of you.
Cancel that. He wants all of you.
“You have a pleasing appearance,” He tells you, eyes instinctively falling to your lips. “A fine figure too. Why don’t you put that to good use, hm?”
“What would you suggest, my lord?” You rouse. “I’m at your service.”
Sukunas face draws closer to yours once more. A single hand rises to your face, cradling your cheeks between his thumb and forefinger. “Interesting… You’re not dumb, are you?”
There’s a clear implication behind his words; take the hint, or don’t. You take a leap of faith, diminishing the space between your faces and pressing your lips firmly against his.
The hand that once held your face now rests on your neck, holding you in place. His tongue swipes against your lower lip, prompting you to give him entrance. He keeps his eyes open, watching over you with amusement you fail to see as your eyes are shut close.
Your mouth is warm and inviting, compelling him to savor every bit of the fiber inside. But he’s interrupted by you pulling away for air.
“Fucking brat,” he curses, pulling you back in before you can gasp another much-needed breath. His palm falls from your neck and skims the skin of your shoulder. In contrast to his typical demeanor, Sukuna’s movement is agonizingly slow as he pushes the cloth off your skin. Little by little, until your torso is exposed to the biting chill of the air, shivers cascade along your spine, eliciting goosebumps across your flesh.
Adrenaline rushes through your veins. Your heart throbs as your hands find his neck, the other on his shoulder. Closer. Your tongues dance, and the taste of you is addicting. Closer. His hands run over your bare skin, feeling up your curves. Closer. Nothing seems to be close enough. You need to be one with him.
Once content, Sukuna pulls away. The smirk on his face is enough reminder you’ve got nothing on him. “You’re weak.”
“‘M not,” you retort stubbornly, struggling to regain your breath. “You caught me off guard.”
“Yeah, right,” Sukuna’s hands fall to your hips. You would have never foreseen a scenario where you contest his words. Not without your head cut off before you completely utter your words. But this brazen attitude of yours is exciting to Sukuna, who can feel the pre staining his pants, cock now painfully hard. Just from kissing.
He maneuvers you with ease, leaning comfortably against the wall before placing you over his middle. You gasp once moved, eyes wide in surprise. You give no signs of struggle, though, so Sukuna continues.
Starting with the loosened belt, then the silk kosode. You’re bare under, left exposed to four eyes’ devouring gaze.
“Heh,” is what he says, feeling your wetness against his abdomen. “Is the wanted criminal so needy already? How sweet.” 
“I’m quite sure you share the desire, my lord,” you whisper, drawing a chuckle from him. You bend forward until your face hovers tantalizingly close to his ear.“Do you not want a taste of me, my lord? I can show you what no woman has ever done.”
While the title ‘my lord’ has come from many to him, it rolls off your tongue differently. You’re so confident in your skills, and he has a feeling you’re not lying.
“I very much doubt that,” he lies, causing you to pucker your lower lip in disdain. You’re set on proving him wrong, prepared to showcase the extent of your capabilities.
Lifting your weight from his form, you turn around and give him your back. He stares down at you, an amorous grin adorning his face. Delicately, you trace your fingers over the prominent bulge in his pants. There is no mistaking the grunt that escapes him at the contact. The bulge largens. The tension grows. You swallow quietly.
“May I?” You whisper, barely audible.
“By all means,” he responds, his smirk persisting despite the furrow in his brow. Tender fingers slip beneath the waistband of his pale trousers, gradually coaxing them downward.  
The sight makes you stop in your tracks; his cock springs to life, a lengthy shaft you’re not so sure you can take. The thought of going back on your words fleets momentarily across your mind, but you refrain. There’s svelteness to the way your fingers graze this tip, tinted with an angry pink. You spread the warm pre-cum over it for lubrication, softly pumping your hands over his shaft.
Surprise intensifies in you when it grows larger, making your insides churn. Your fingers continue their work, eliciting louder sounds from him.
You’re fascinated by it, a beautiful length framed by trimmed pubes. It starts with a color marginally darker than his skin, gradually merging into the angry pink hue that tints his tip. You can’t not stare.
You turn back around, looking at the man sitting before you. The King of Curses with all his mind with a troubled expression, his resolve long worn off.
“You’re taking too long,” He threatens. “Get on it already, woman.”
No less is expected from the King of Curses; he’s straightforward as one could be. A yelp escapes your lips when his hands land a firm grip on your hips, forcefully lifting you up.
You’re placed on his length without any warning, causing a loud cry to break out of you. Tears gather in your eyes at the sudden stretch. You feel him, all of him; thick and long and painful and good.
Drawing a sharp breath, you attempt to adjust to the stretch.
“Can’t take it?” His smirk taunts you. “Pathetic.” 
“I-I can,” you steady yourself with two palms against the curves of his abs. “Let me get- ah–!”
Your moan synchronizes with the groan he emits, his hands maintaining a firm grasp on your ass cheeks as he lifts you upwards for friction before abruptly slamming you back down. The way your gummy walls wrap tight around him nearly makes him dizzy. Sukuna is almost sure this pussy was made for him and only him.
“Fuck–” he grunts, head thrown back as you move steadily. His hand grabs your waist for guidance as you huff and puff, trying not to be too loud but it’s so hard when he hits all the right places. Your heart thrums in your chest, body shaking at the euphoria that’s clouding your senses.
There’s rhythm to the sounds of breathing, creating a symphony of pleasure as you roll your hips, pace fastening every second. Sukuna’s hand is light against your hip, a thumb extending to rub your clit in a gentle manner, drawing circles over the soft bud.
“Oh– M’lord– I’m..” words bleed into moans you can no longer contain. Every thrust hits deeper, and every movement makes you squeeze tighter around his cock. Your eyes roll back, and Sukuna swears he could get off to your expression alone. 
When a cold grip meets the writ of one of his lower arms, Sukuna’s eyes flee your face in curiosity. His hand is heavier than you expect. You softly raise his palm, desperately leaving it at your neck.
He chuckles. He loves the desperation in your eyes, the way your hips thrust sloppily, the way you claw at his chest for a symbol of control as you try your best to stay true to your words. Warm digits wrap around your neck and squeeze it lightly. 
“C’mere,” he breathes, pulling you by your neck. Your lips clash into his with a gasp. God, you’re intoxicating him. Teeth tug at your bottom lip despite your mouth being agape. The moan that escapes you is happily drank down by him.
Humidity clouds the place, shiny sweat dripping down your neck. You’re in too much ecstasy to think anyway.
Sukuna sucks at your bottom lip, his hand moving from your neck to cradle the back of your head then tug at your hair.
You’re magic, the sight of you inebriating him utterly. You’re a trigger, back arched towards him in desperation. All to feel more. How greedy. You’re deadly, bouncing on him like that’s what you were made for, resolve renewing to keep up for as long as you could.
“Fuck- attagirl,” his eyes shut, dopamine rises, and all he can do is feel. “Good- shit– yeah, yeah–”
“‘M close-” your moan is pitched, walls tightening around him. “Ah– I’m– ‘m so close-”
Your entire body shakes, legs trembling and nearly giving out. A harsh slap lands across the skin on your ass, his fingers kneading the flesh before landing another slap against it. You can still feel the heat of his palm even as he moves it to hold your face harshly. “Don’t be fucking weak. H-shit–”
It turns you on, he realizes. To be treated like a ragdoll and pushed around. 
“Like that huh?” another spank. “Like being hit? Tch, wh-what a fucking brat”
“Yes–!” You gasp, movement accelerating over him, drawing half of him out just to enroll him in your warmth again. He can sense your orgasm approaching, walls dangerously tight around him. His tip hits your good spot, and you go at it and at it again, moaning loudly as your nails bruise his chest.
A string of curses escapes his lips, neck stretched as your head inches closer, pressing a kiss to the skin. He groans louder, moving you faster on his dick as your pace wasn’t enough.
“Hah– I– I’m gonna– Sukuna-sama I—”
Your mouth falls open, and breath fast. You see stars, cumming all over him. The fiber of your insides pulses around him, surrounding his cock with your essence. 
Nails dig into your flesh, and Sukuna’s body tenses. A desperate whine escapes you when you feel the white ropes spilling inside you. Your movement persists, set on milking every last drop he has to offer.
His chest rises and falls, a palm coming to cover his face while another pair sits on your hips. You attempt to move, trying to pull yourself off his cock. But his hands pull you back down with potent. You’ve grown sensitive, so his action draws a loud whine from you.
“Where to?” He sneers at you. “You’re not done yet, are you? ‘This all you can do?”
It’s an obvious challenge. Despite the fatigue you’re starting to feel, you’re not one to back down from challenges. Least of all ones pronounced by him.
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