#so I thought I'd use it for this prompt

[tomaturtles]

IT'S KAWOSHIN DAY!!! As well as the last day of Kawoshin Week :') It's been such a blast, gonna miss it when it's over

Kawoshin Week Day 7: Cuddling/domestic fluff! + Sleepover and Spinoffs (again)! Based on the Campus Apocalypse sleepover chapter ☺️

[stormikitty]

Hanahaki Speedrun:

Danny comes from a world where hanahaki exists and is very common. Then he moved to the DC universe where hanahaki doesn't exist and nobody has heard of it. Danny falls in love with Bart Allen. He would have taken at least a few more weeks to figure that out if the extreme pain didn't give away that there were suddenly blood blossom seeds in his lungs. He isn't going to survive to the end of the day and he only just fell in love that day. Those feelings are new and he hasn't had time to think about/process/understand how he feels about Bart and he's not going to get time to adjust to these new feelings before he dies. Forcing the seeds out of his system will take away his ability to ever feel any kind of love again, and that would be worse than dying all the way. So He tells his team that the blood blossom seeds in his lungs are going to kill him by the end of the day, but forcing them out of his system will have irreversible affects that will doom him to a fate worse than death and change who he is forever. They're trying to process that they're about to lose their friend/teammate who they've gotten pretty close with in the past few months, and Bart tells Danny that he loves him. He apologizes for making this about his own feelings, but he couldn't bare the regret of losing the boy he's in love with having never told him how he feels. Danny coughs up all the seeds and some blood and he's going to survive. Nobody fully understands what just happened, Danny tells the team that he's not dying anymore but is still in pain from the blood blossom seeds and should get away from them quickly and that he needs a few hours to rest and recover from almost dying and to process what just happened. He gives Bart a kiss on the cheek and leaves to go lay down. Bart cleans up the blood and seeds that Danny coughed up and everyone is very confused, worried, sad, happy, lots of emotions and trying to stop crying. Danny explains what hanahaki disease is and how it works. Everyone needs some time to process that. Danny and Bart go to another room to talk about what this means for them. While they just went through a falling in love, almost dying, and confession speedrun, they should probably take at least a little more time in figuring out their relationship now that Danny's not dying 'cause he still needs to let it fully sink in that he's in love.

[robo-dino-puppy]

horizontober 2023 | 29: beam

[moonfromearth]

- ...

Day 12 - The Killer "Iconic. The bringer of doom. It gives them pleasure to pick of the cast, reveling in their own cat and mouse game. No matter their backstory, it always leads to slaughter in the end."

from @windbrook's Slashed Challenge.

[echo-does-art]

I've been waiting since the beginning of the month to do this prompt :)

[ikemenomegas]

stop, myy oc's former classmates offering to set them up gave me an idea. so what if they had this super pushy classmate who just wont take no for an answer and pesters them about setting them up with someone they know every time they see each other at reunions. So so like what if the day before their reunion, gojo sets the myy oc's wallpaper to something that shows that myy oc is not single but in a super discreet way. Maybe a picture of myy oc at a cafe that gojo took and gojo's glasses or cup of coffee or anything that suggests the presence of a second person in the picture is shown and gojo makes that the myy oc's wallpaper

oh no T.T this is so cute anon. It's also the perfect mix of subtle and blunt haha, which suits him

"I can't believe it's been ten years already," you murmured.

"From what?" Satoru asked.

He plucked the piece of paper you were looking at from your hands and peered at it.

"My junior high school reunion."

"Didn't you just have one of those?"

"It feels like it sometimes," you said softly, taking the paper back.

"You gonna go?"

You tapped your foot against the arm of the couch. "I don't see why not." You were planning to go. Some old friends from back then had already messaged, insisting they wanted to see how you were holding up. It was really just an excuse to drag you from the outskirts of Tokyo and into the city.

Even after all this time, they had some impression that you were some kind of ultra industrious hermit. You never told them about all your journeys around the country. You wouldn't know how to answer if they asked what you were doing there, what kind of work could let you travel that much...

"Go and show off your new wrinkles," Satoru nodded.

You just sighed up at him. Disappointed.

He pouted, sticking out his lower lip ridiculously.

"... I don't have wrinkles."

"Sure," he agreed, and then bounced off to whatever little project was keeping him occupied these days. Or to bother Megumi.

You rolled off the couch.

You rushed into the restaurant where the reunion was kicking off while trying not to look like you'd been rushing. The start of curse season this year had been as unpleasant as usual, and you'd just finished a last minute call.

You'd changed clothes in the car, lucky that the auxiliary knew you well enough to simply clear their throat and not ask any questions when they dropped you off at a train station.

Someone called your name in bright, cheerful tones that cut through the noise.

"Hirose-san," you said back, waving and making your way over to that part of the table.

"We were worried you weren't going to show up," Oda Konoka said immediately, leaning forward across the table.

"Sorry," you apologized. "Someone from work called..." you offered a easily interpreted truth.

"Work, work, work," Maeda Hikari all but slammed down a mug of something like it was a beer stein, making Konoka jump. "The last time we saw you it was work, this time it's work. All you do is work!"

"That's normal," Hirose Asami said placidly, smiling at you over her folded hands. "For most people."

You gave Hirose-san a slightly embarrassed smile back, dipping your head in thanks for her coming to your defense.

A waiter caught your searching eye and came over. Soon the table devolved into a flurry of words, menus flapping around as people started ordering around the part of the room at which you sat. Looked like you had been a bit late then, probably one of the last to arrive.

After a somewhat clumsy-feeling start, at least from your point of view, everyone in your little cluster of familiar and less familiar faces was more or less caught up, starting to chat with their neighbors or old friends, eating well.

And as it often seemed to at these kinds of things, conversation eventually turned to dating life. It was funny, listening to Hirose-san complain about something for once. Apparently the last person she dated told her she was too scary to stay with, which made Konoka start laughing ... and not stop.

"It's really not that funny," Hirose-san was saying, a slightly cross look on her face.

Hikari was failing to stifle a snicker, mostly at Konoka but also at Hirose-san. "It kind of is. Didn't someone you met at that expo you told us about also say something similar?"

"That's not fair," you protested, a light smile on your own lips. "That was years ago, and only because she was yelling at one of the interns--"

For some reason that set Konoka off again, clutching her stomach with one hand as tears sprang to her eyes.

Oh, right. She'd been there... oh well.

"I think you're lovely," you said earnestly. "It's really not your fault. I'd go out with you--"

"If," Hikari turned towards you suddenly, cutting you off. "I'm sensing an if. And my if sensor is never wrong."

"There's no--" you backpedaled immediately as Hikari honed in on you like a shark scenting blood in the water.

"I don't believe it. All the rest of us have met someone. Even permanently intimidating Hisa--"

"Please don't call me that."

Konoka laughed harder.

"-- single to the end-of-life Hisa--"

"Worse," she said mildly while Konoka leaned helplessly on her shoulder, tears at the corner of her eyes.

"--and I refuse to believe that someone like you hasn't even gotten a confession."

"I've gotten confessions before," Hirose-san protested.

"Yeah and you always turn them down," Hikari shot back. "My point is I have a perfectly nice little someone who could be just your type--"

"Oh here we go," Hirose-san said, but she no longer looked interested in saving you. A familiar glint was in her eye which said she was settling in to watch the show.

"I really don't need--"

"But you do," Hikari said. "You see maybe one of us every six months and you went to that tiny high school out in the sticks--"

"It was still in Tokyo."

"--barely, but how many people did you say were in your graduating class? Three? No. There's no way. That's what friends are for, meeting people, getting you out of the usual wandering blah of normal life."

"Have you taken a breath at all?" Hirose-san asked, amused and still unhelpful.

Hikari waved her off and lifted up a finger. "Flexible work schedule so you can't pretend not to have any time to meet up." A second finger. "Dresses well, smells nice. The people we meet are constantly asking about perfume and cologne, it's a ridiculous amount of people." Third finger. "Kiiiind of a weirdo," although this was said with a grin.

"Hikari," Konoka finally gasped, sitting up. "You can't just say that. And to someone's face!"

Hikari grinned at Konoka's mild outrage. "It's the only thing left at our age. So many people have already given up or decided they don't want to be paired off or--"

It was such a rookie mistake, taking your eyes off of a threat just because it came from a non-sorcerer. As your eyes turned towards Konoka's sudden movement, Hikari lunged, plucking your phone from the table.

"--and I have their number right here, and I bet you haven't changed your code since high school at least."

That was not true. You'd changed it three years ago because Satoru kept breaking into your phone and installing weird games on it.

Hikari fell silent, squinting at the screen.

Konoka leaned over to see what was the matter.

"What?" you finally asked. They were just starting at your lock screen.

Hirose-san craned her neck as well. "It looks like a very nice cafe," she offered. Laying out the bait for Hikari.

"What?" you asked again. The image last you checked had been one of you and Shoko, leaning over the rail of some stupid expensive hotel where you'd stayed as her guard when a minor emergency had required her presence.

Hikari leered.

"No one I know uses pictures of themselves, alone. Two cups of coffee. The chair opposite you is out of place, flowers on the table, two forks with the cake. There's a reflection in the window. You clearly didn't take this picture and from your reaction, you didn't put it on here either. Which means the change is recent and someone you trust enough to leave this lying around did it."

You," Hikari concluded, " have been lying to us." Dramatic, melodramatic. Satoru would love this old little crew of yours if you hadn't long ago made the decision to never let the two parts of your life mix.

You scrambled for an explanation. "That doesn't mean it's a date."

You knew exactly which cafe that picture would have been taken at. It would have been ten months after you'd married Satoru and it was very much a date. And the flowers had been an apology because a mission had forced him to stand you up at the nine month anniversary. The cake had been your apology for not being able to hold out and wait up for him.

Hikari's smile was downright evil. "I never said it was a date you were lying about."

Konoka turned a very scary look your way. "It's like Sherlock Holmes," came the slightly awed, slightly taunting whisper.

Satisfied, Hikari returned your phone. "Sooo. Name? Age? Blood type? Job? Favorite color? Where'd you meet? How long have you been hiding it from us?"

Stunned, you decided to look at the picture while you decided whether or not to lie.

You were sitting by the window at the cafe, leaning down to stiff at the flowers, the cake slice untouched in front of you, the box just visible on the ledge behind your thighs, the coffees still with steam curling from the cups. Golden light flooded in from outside.

"Oh," you said with some surprise. "That's actually a good picture."

Konoka burst back into giggles.

[averlym]

which is gayer? SIX or Adamandi (real)

adamandi

[factorialsotherfandoms]

not the laptop struggles :(

joui and liz, on a walk? something nice.

laptop struggles evil :( please, have something gentle.

text version under cut

There is a park not far from the Order's base. Sometimes Liz likes to sit under the tree, to remind herself that she is real.

It is her special place, when being underground is too much. When the walls cave in and all she can see are the horrors, she comes back here.

To taste fresh air, only mostly tainted by by the city beyond. To feel the grass. Hear cars and birds. Watch a young mother help her daughter on the swings with only a little pain.

She sees Joui before he gets to her, a paper bag in hand and waving. Liz waves back, sees him grin, but does not get up for him.

Thiago would be happy, she thinks, to know that their boys are safe; Liz knows that she is.

"Here to drag me back already?" She teases, once he is close enough to hear.

"No! Liz-senpai! If you do not want to be in the meeting, then you should not be in the meeting!" He offers her the bag. "I have coffee for you!"

That... Now that she stands up for, ignoring creaking bones as she takes the bag and finds not only coffee, but a cute little pastry too.

She offers some to Joui.

"Oh! No! I already ate, it's for you Liz-senpai."

"Thank you, Joui," she bites it, and stirs the coffee. "Did you need me for something?"

"No. I just also did not want to be at the meeting. César-kun left first, though."

"And Arthur is still there?"

"Of course! He said he would explain it later."

Liz watches the treez, and waits for the coffee to cool. She blows on it, and sips on it, and finds both it too hot and Joui rocking slightly with his constant energy.

"Walk with me," she asks him, a laugh on her lips. "Come, let us talk and see the flowers."

[youremyonlyhope]

why won't my brain shut up why won't my brain shut up why won't my brain shut up why won't my brain shut up

[shirogane-oushirou]

[cw venting about renniverssary stress. tl;dr i'm giving myself an out LMAO and, if i can't conjure up some perfect and lovely piece by next week, i'll just Do What I Can and then start planning the wedding so i have more time and can make that the Big Thing]

it hit me last night that i'm absolutely FUCKING MYSELF UP w stress over "not doing enough" for the renniversary ksjdnfkjn so i think. actually. i'll make and post what i can manage, without pushing myself to make The Most Finished Work Imaginable, and then maybe over the coming months i'll get some commissions and decide on a "wedding" date to post them on 😭

ren wouldn't want me to stress over "being good enough"... that's part of our whole Thing after all. idk. i just. he's the first oc i've made who's had this deep of an impact on me; this year in particular has been ROUGH, and he (and this community hehe) have been pulling me through all of the bullshit and breakdowns. i WANT to do something big and meaningful to match even a fraction of everything he's done for me! but if i'm going through a bad art slump and making myself stressed and unhappy, then what's the point of doing it...? if that makes sense.

sorry, this is mostly just me working through these weird, contradictory, fucky feelings. it's also weird guilt bc i put together a nice little finished chibi pic for the oushiversary tomorrow, but i'm struggling to make anything beyond messy sketches and loose, half-baked ideas for ren, my current main? (granted i was using an unfinished sketch from a couple of years ago as the oushiversary pic base, but. yknow.)

i still have a week. there's time for divine inspiration to strike LMAO. but i want to let myself not freak out over it. worst case? i draw something like that poke!renro in that loose, paint-y style that doesn't take long to do but looks really visually interesting, and then i FIIIIIINALLY do a yumeship meme for us KJANSKFJN.

[landwriter]

58 for the Spotify fic synopsis thing

It's Now We Are Free from the Gladiator OST. I have no idea why it's there, only that the answer is obvious: I would pull #5 from my list of Concepts That I'm Not Allowed To Think Further About Until My WIP List Is Smaller:

gladiator hob and some kind of fancy guy dream. angst. homoeroticism. bodyguard au?

I know even less than Gladiator knew about that time and place in history, and am, upon actually thinking about the concept, not the person to write this at all, but, you know, brawler Hob, lordly Dream, class differences and baths and patronage and pining. Maybe Hob is actually a wrestler, or athlete. It doesn't matter. As long as he's got big strong muscles and chip on his shoulder. As long as Dream falls in love with him at first sight. Humans AU with a rich background of sociopolitical action I would need to go back to school for. Hurt/Comfort, capital-D Drama, probably lot of grapes or something. Political intrigue. Stolen kisses. Gratuitous scenes of Hob sweating during a variety of activities. Thigh-fucking. Poisoning attempts. Bacchanalia. Markets filled with equal parts treasures and cutpurses. Old men in robes monologuing. An escape into the night. Lovingly poetic descriptions of Hob's hairy chest for @moorishflower. That's the sort of thing I'd write.

[cry-stars]

[queueh0lic]

k and I had a chat about jealousy (and up next is a stupidly long ramble in the tags)

[demidoodlefox]

I'm tired....

[binch-i-might-be]

the problem with me and the whumptober prompts is that if you give me like one to three words to write something off of I just Won't. the instruction was too broad! therefore I will not be doing anything! sorry for any inconvenience

[s0dium]

Douchebag

A/n: This is honestly the BEST fic I've ever written! I took a lot from prompts I found on this site and the smut scene is inspired from a book called "The Kiss Quotient." (It was just so damn good). This fanfic is also inspired by my original fanfic, "Douchebag" Tengen x Reader. ALSO, I AM WORKING ON YUTA FICS, SO DON'T WORRY! Word count: 3.5k

Synopsis: Gojo Satrou was a man of many things. It would be hard to find anyone in the jujutsu world who hadn’t heard of his name before, whether that be through his many wins in battle or his reputation as an A-class player. Some describe him as eccentric, and others (mostly girls) describe him as irresistible. You? Well, you on the other hand would describe him as nothing else than an utter, complete,  douchebag. Warnings: Enemies to lovers,  teasing, fingering, intense kissing for a sec, squirting, use of pet names, belly bulge, cervix fucking, breeding kink, virgin!reader, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, choking ~

You scoffed, watching through the classroom window as a clearly frustrated old man stormed out of the building, no doubt a higher up. No doubt the work of Gojo Satoru. "God I hate him." You hissed, turning to face a dozing-off Shoko and your other friend Haibara. The classroom you sat in was almost empty, bathed in the soft light of midday filtering through large windows. Sparse shadows stretch across the well-worn wooden floor. Rows of desks, mostly unoccupied, face a dusty chalkboard at the front. "Who Satoru?" Shoko yawned, leaning into the palm of her hand to face you. Haibara lets out a loud chuckle. "Why? Because he's an ass to higher-ups?" He nods to the window and you click your tongue against the rough of your mouth. "No, it's because he is an ass in general. His whole 'holier than thou' attitude, and don't get me started on the way he treats girls." You practically shiver as you remember the time you saw some poor girl from Kyoto Jujutsu High profess her love to the white hair man, only to run away sobbing. "I swear to god it's like he expects us to kiss the floor that he walks on, he's.... infuriating" "Who's infuriating?" Oh god, you knew that stupidly deep voice anywhere. You whipped around to find yourself face to face with the very tall white-haired man you were talking about; a shit-eating grin spread across his infuriatingly handsome face.

“You couldn't be talking about me, could you?” Satoru's voice dripped faux shock and you rolled your eyes.

“Well you know what they say, speak of the devil and he shall appear.” You spat.

“That must be why you love using that pretty mouth of yours to talk about me so much.” Satoru lowered himself to close the provoking height difference between the two of you until your noses were inches away from touching. “Cause ya love having me around  doncha.”

In that moment you have to conjure up every ounce of self-restraint to not spit in his face there and then, and luckily your friends catch the drift. "Hey Satoru! What are you doing here?" Perked up Haibara who reached out his hand to dap Gojo up. "Well, Suguru and I are heading for a night out today, small club, and I thought, out of the kindness of my heart," You scoff and Gojo merely grins and continues, "I'd invite you all. Drink on me of course." As Satrou's invitation lingered in the air, you noticed Shoko's ears perk up. Her curiosity was piqued, a subtle lift of her eyebrows betraying her interest. You bit your tongue, the taste of reluctance sharp against your teeth. The idea of going anywhere with Satrou was far from appealing, but knowing your friends might join made it harder to outright refuse.

You crossed your arms defensively, leaning back slightly as you fixed Satrou with a skeptical look. "And why would you want me there?"

Satrou's lips curled into a half-smirk, his eyes lighting up with a mischievous glint."You're annoying, I'll give you that," He took a casual step closer, and leaned in closer, his voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper, "but I never said you weren't fun."

His words, intended to irk you, did their job well. You glared at him sharply, the frustration evident in your furrowed brows and the hard set of your jaw.

Satrou chuckled.

“Great, I’ll take that as a yes then, I'll text you guys the details.” He turns around to walk out of the classroom. “See you guys there!”

There was a silence as you all watched Satrou walk away before Haibara turns to look at you. “So are you going to go y/n? Come on it will be so much fun!”

“Yeah no way in hell.”

~ You were a liar. You were a liar because here you were, leaning over the counter of a bar in a club that was far from "small." The nightclub was a pulsing, chaotic hive of activity. Neon lights flashed in syncopation with the deafening throb of electronic dance music that shook the very air. The club was jam-packed with bodies moving rhythmically, the heat from the mass of humanity palpable as the scent of sweat and sweet perfumes mingled. The bar surface was sticky under your arms, and the occasional spill from a too-hastily poured drink added to the chaos of sounds and smells around you. You lazily stirred the thin red straw into your drink, trying to politely ignore the creep who wouldn't stop talking to you.

Somehow, in the maze of gyrating bodies and blinding strobe lights, you had lost both Shoko and Haibara, leaving you stranded at the mercy of this clueless conversationalist. Despite the roar of bass and the chatter of dozens of conversations, his words seemed to bore into your ears, relentless and unyielding. He leaned in closer than necessary, trying to make himself heard over the club's cacophony, not realizing or perhaps not caring, that you were more interested in plotting an escape than in anything he had to say. "And might I say you look gorgeous tonight." It took everything you had not to scoff at this creep's words, but before you should shut the man down, you felt an arm wrap around you. "Everything alright love?" Oh god. You knew that voice anywhere. As you turned, you were met by Satrou's piercing blue eyes, their color vivid even behind stylish rectangular sunglasses. The multicolor flashing lights overhead caught in the threads of Satrou’s light blue button-up, making it shimmer subtly, and the fabric clung just right to his broad shoulders and tapered waist, hinting at the well-defined physique beneath. You hated the fact that your brain immediately noted how damn good he looked. His arm was wrapped around your waist drawing you close and you had to bite your tongue from frowning at the pet name he had given you As he leaned in, his voice was low, a soft murmur over the noise of the club, "This guy bothering you baby?" His tone was teasing, and you could detect the challenge in it, as if daring you to admit that his closeness and pet names affected you just as much as he knew it did. "Of course I'm fine baby!" You smile brightly and for a second you think Satrou looked a bit taken aback. If playing along got you out of this situation so be it. "This guy, I'm sorry, what's your name?" You glance back at the creep who had turned bright red. "I'm sorry, excuse me." You watched as the man disappeared into the throng of the bustling crowd, your attention fixed until he was well out of sight. Only then did you turn back to Satrou, the false warmth on your face instantly transforming into a cold, hard glare.

"Thanks for that, but you can get your hand off me now," you said, your voice icy as you tried to wriggle out of his hold. Despite your efforts, Satrou’s grip on your waist remained firm, unyielding.

"And why should I? I think we made a fantastic couple," Satrou cooed, a teasing lilt in his voice. His eyes sparkled with amusement, clearly enjoying the moment far more than you.

You rolled your eyes, exasperation seeping through. "You really think I would fall for something like that?"

"Why? Did you?" he probed further, his smile widening, eyes searching yours for any sign of genuine affect. Anger started to boil up inside you as your attempts to escape his grasp remained futile.

"I don't think you understand the dynamic here very well, Satoru," you began, your voice low and deliberate, each word punctuated for emphasis. You stepped closer, invading his space as much as he had invaded yours, your eyes never leaving his. "Let me make this crystal clear, I'm not someone you can just fucking conquer, and I'm certainly not one of those girls who's gonna kiss the ground you walk on with your whole 'I'm the strongest' act," you seethed.

Your face was mere inches from his now, your breath mingling, the tension palpable. "Because I know what you really are, Satrou," you hissed, the anger in your voice barely contained. "You're a fucking douche bag." "Oh? Is that so."

Satrou's expression shifted subtly, the amusement fading into something more measured, more cautious. He studied you for a moment and you took the chance to wiggle out of his grasp and make your way through the crowd on the dance floor toward the door. The beat of the music pounds in your ears and throughout your body making your synapses jump like beans in a tin can. You can barely see the floor, only flashes of bodies you frantically tried to push past. Before you can make it to the back door, a hand grips your wrist tightly enough to halt your forward rush. Above the din of the pulsating music and amidst the strobe-lit shadows of dancing figures, Satoru's face comes into view. You feel your breath catch in your throat. God his is beautiful. Strobe lights catch and accent every one of his sharp features alighting them in a multicolor color hue. He pulls your wrist to him so you're close, too close. You can smell the old spice shampoo from his hair mixed in with some sort of sweet cologne. It's a smell that makes you want to bury your nose into him over and over again. "Jesus fucking Christ y/n" he breathed his eyes searching yours. "How long are we going to keep this thing of ours going?" You furrowed your eyebrows. “Our thing? What thing?”

“The thing where we act like we hate each other but actually want to fuck the brains out of each other.” Your eyes widen and you feel your face grow deathly hot. You try to step back, get some space, some room to breathe, but the hand on your wrist keeps you from doing so

“I-fuck you” the words come out of your mouth more soft and meager than you intended to, and you find yourself locked into his blue gaze.

“Believe me, I've thought about it.” His voice is low, and his face isn't painted with a shit-eating grin like it so usually is, he's serious and his eyes are soft. Fuck it. You can no longer hear the lyrics to whatever song was playing, only a soft dull hum of the beat in your ears. Immediately your lips are on his. The kiss is frantic, hot, messy. The club's pulse thrummed through you like a second heartbeat, the noise and chaos all but forgotten in the singular focus of his presence. You could feel one of his large hands on the small of your back, drawing you in until there was no space left between the both of you. Your mouths clashed against each other as if you were both seeking something vital, something long-denied. Satoru's lips were insistent against yours, moving with a fervor that matched the pounding bass surrounding you. You whined as his tongue slipped into your mouth, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, the firm press of his chest against yours. The scent of his cologne mixed with the smoky air around us, intoxicating and heady.

Your mouths separated with a soft pop, and Satoru is grinning while you're left dazed, breath heavy and chests rising and falling after it. "How bout you say we get out of here Princess."Gojo's voice was a low murmur, his breath warm against your ear as you broke from the intense kiss.

Before you could even respond, a dizzying rush enveloped you. The loud club vanished in an instant, replaced by the quiet, dimly lit ambiance of his bedroom. You were suddenly on his bed, the soft duvet beneath you a stark contrast to the hard dance floor we'd just left. Right, he can teleport. You forgot about that. Wait was he... where are you going to... Before you can get a word in, he’s once again engulfing your lips with his and pulling you into a feverish kiss in which the two of you can’t seem to get enough of each other. The moment one pulls away to breathe, the other is immediately searching for their lips again; intertwining tongues and teeth clashing together recklessly.

Your hot, everything is hot, your body is burning up by the second and there’s a sickly sweet feeling in your stomach that keeps on expanding as time passes. You whine into his mouth when you feel a hand slip under your skirt and lightly trace the outline of your slit with his index finger. You're painfully wet; your arousal has made a large spot on your underwear translucent. “Just touch me,’ you whined, arching impatiently against his hand. He couldn’t make either of you wait any longer. Slowly, he brought his middle finger down and slid it gently over her folds. You threw your head back. "Ahhhh, more please." He did it again, this time his fingertip slipping between and gathering your wetness. He parted you with two fingers. You let out a gasp when he hit your clit and started to rub it in small circles. You tried to say something, anything to explain how hot you were feeling right now, but your words were lost against his soft lips. The taste of him, the smell of him, the feel of him so close against you, skin to skin. Time and space had no meaning anymore. There was only you and Satrou.

“You feeling good baby? Satrou speaks slowly, breath on your neck and voice in your ear making you shiver. You bite your lip and nod like any words that came from you would ruin it. You almost wince when you feel two fingers slip into your tight hole. "Jesus, fuck. You gotta relax princesses." He chuckled, knowing far to well that the tightness was going to feel delicious around him. Two fingers worked into you, and your eyes rolled back into your head. He began a steady rhythm as his tongue nipped and sucked the tender skin of your neck. You couldn’t prevent her hips from rising to meet his thrusts. Oh God, you were riding his hand. That had to be bad. You told herself to stop. You couldn’t. Somehow, you found your hands tangled in his short white hair. Your body was coiled tighter, grasping at his fingers, so wet now you could hear the slippery sounds every time he drove back into you. "Hnghhh.... so good." You squeezed your eyes type, becoming focused on the tightening feeling of your core and the blossoming warm pleasure. Your legs started to tremble under the unbearable pleasure and your back arched against the bed as if your body was trying to escape the euphoric feeling that coursed through your skin. "That’s it, fuck, beautiful girl... such a natural submissive...." You want to tell him he's wrong, all this pleasure wasn't because of his egotistic ass, but it'd be a lie. And as if on command, all feelings come to a heightened crescendo; explosions of euphoria clouding your brain causing your toes to curl from pleasure and your body to shake like a leaf.

It takes a couple seconds after you calmed down to realize you squirted all over Satoru's hand and all blood rushes to your face turning you a bright red.

“Oh my god in so sorry I didn’t-”

Your voice dies out as you watch Satrou pull off his shirt, revealing his extremely built body and toned muscles, to wipe the liquid off his hand. You don’t even notice that he had pulled out his dick until you feel something pressing against your entrance, making you look down and your eyes widen as you do so. Your stomach inwardly twisted,  filled with the sickly excitement and your breathing started to quicken. "Shhhhh baby," Satoru cups your cheek and kisses your forehead. It was a sweet gesture despite everything happening right now, a gesture that made your heart swell and your mind yearn for Satoru. The stretch of his dick spreading your walls is insane. No amount of preparation could've prepared you for the length of Satoru's dick. You feel it heavy inside you and Satrou pushes into you until he can't push anymore, until his hips are flush against you and the tip of his length is smushed against your cervix. The pleasure of that alone felt numb, unbearable, you needed friction, you needed him to move. You practically faint when he first thrusts into you in earnest. It's euphoric; the curvature of his dick digging itself against your g-spot, scraping against your vaginal walls every time he backed his hips up. His cock pulsed inside of your silky walls, stretching you to the fullest capacity as he bottomed out again and again. "Oh fuck." Satrou groaned. He was no longer grinning, Satoru's playful resolves vanished and his smile quickly dropped. He knew you'd feel good, but he didn't expect how good you'd feel. The feeling of his hand he had fucked himself to the thought of you for so many nights was nothing compared to the real thing. It was too much, the feeling of your wet soft walls gripping him so tightly. How was he able to live without your pussy in the first place? The pleasure built rapidly, too potent, too insistent. He kneeled over you, a groan escaping his lips—a raw, primal sound that vibrated through the charged air between you. Satorus thrust your quick and hard, a clear display of strength and endurance he had gained from years of jujutsu training. "Been thinking about this, so long, bet you have to have ya~"

As Satrou's long, deliberate fingers encircle your neck, a thrilling chill races down your spine. He applies pressure gently at first, then with a firmer, insistent grip that gradually restricts your airflow, sending a wave of exhilaration through your senses. The world around you narrows, focusing intently on the point where his skin contacts yours, heightening every other sensation that courses through you. His other hand slips under your bra bra to grab and massage your breast, his thumb flicking over your nipples.

"Satoru..! Ahhhh..! I..I, fuckkkkk can't handle this.." You had no strength to answer him, only offering wanton moans in retort as he continued to wreck your body with his completely brutal thrusts. The pain of him hitting the tip of your cervix nearly every time mixed with his hand squeezing your throat it was just all too much.

Satoru. Satoru. Satoru

"Slow down.. please im gonna ahhhh~" Drool slipped passed your lips and you writhed and squirmed at the feeling of hot euphoria passed over your body in flesh arrow. "Gonna cum? Fuck baby, let's... let's come together m'kay?" Satrou almost stuttered. His body had kicked into autopilot, and a deep primal need for you settled in as he thrust in and out, creating a methodical rhythm that echoed in your ears. Your ankles lock around his lower back and you cry out when the head of his cock kisses your womb, your legs shaking as you feel yourself start to be thrown into an intense orgasm. You want to say something about the weird feeling in your stomach, how your skin is buzzing but it's all too much, and before you know it your tumbling toward the edge. It feels like your whole body was shot with electricity and color dances in your eyes as you float in ecstasy.

"Sh-Shit, shit, fuuuuck~" He chuckles into your ear, choking over his words as his hips sputter inside of you, hot cum fills you as much as you can hold inside of your stuffed cunny. Satoru doesn't pull out as you both come down from your high, instead watching you intently as you ride through the aftershocks of your orgasm. "Wanna do this again?" He chuckles.

"Fuck, yes, please."