#the man deserved to be pampered

[randomprose]

It started out as allergies. At least that’s what He Tian said when he couldn’t stop sneezing.

When he started sniffling the next day when he went to pick up Guan Shan from work, Guan Shan told him to take some cold medicine, but He Tian just said, “Only idiots catch colds.”

To which Guan Shan replied, “All the more reason for you to take them then.”

Then He Tian started coughing at dinner and Guan Shan had yelled at him to take a flu tablet and go to bed.

“You’re sick, dick head.”

“In more ways than one, baby~” He Tian teases, but the leery effect he wanted to get going was undermined by his stuffy nose and the resounding sneeze that followed. “Fucking allergy season.”

“Disgusting,” Guan Shan sneers with an arm over his face as he hands him a tissue. “And quit calling it an allergy. You never get them even at the height of spring, dickhead.”

“Fucking Beijing pollution then.”

“You were born in Beijing. Pollution is practically your oxygen.” He Tian lets out another sneeze that has Guan Shan mentally cataloguing the medicine cabinet and making a list of what to get from the pharmacy in his head. “You’ve got the flu.”

“Shut the fuck up,” He Tian sniffs and tries to tamper down a cough against his elbow as he reviews the dossier his brother sent him. “I never get sick.”

Annoyed at his stubbornness, Guan Shan decides he wouldn’t be hanging around until He Tian gets his head out of his ass and gets better.

That was over two days ago. Guan Shan gets a text from Jian Yi who heard from Brother Qiu that He Tian looked like death warmed over at the last meeting.

Stubborn fuck.

Guan Shan comes over that night and sees for himself. He Tian greets him at the threshold panting and heavily leaning on the door frame as if the walk there was a trek instead of just a couple of strides. He’s sweating and his eyes are sunken and red rimmed with dark bags underneath. 

Yep. Death warmed over was accurate alright.

“Told you ‘m not sick.”

Guan Shan doesn’t say anything, doesn’t comment that he sounds like his sinuses are gonna explode, and doesn’t rise to any of He Tian’s baiting. He just makes a beeline for the kitchen to cook beef stew, watches as He Tian struggles to eat without an appetite, and nods in satisfaction when he eventually finishes a bowl. 

(The day He Tian refuses Guan Shan’s cooking will be his last. Even with taste buds shot to hell and a stomach that can barely stand water, he’ll always want Guan Shan’s food.)

He Tian staggers away from the kitchen on to his bed and Guan Shan only has to count to three before he's taking a nose dive straight to his mattress. He smirks from where he’s looking at He Tian’s knocked out state thinking maybe he might’ve put a little too much pseudoephedrine on his stew but not entirely regretting it.

Guan Shan moves to arrange He Tian under the sheets and in a more comfortable sleeping position. Then he goes to wet a towel in cold water to wipe He Tian's fever-warm face and arms before rubbing Vicks on his chest to help his congested sinuses. He cleans the kitchen and apartment a little thinking if maybe he should stay before deciding He Tian will be fine for the night and going home.

He comes back to check up on him the next day after his shift is over. When no one answers, Guan Shan lets himself in and sees that the place is as he left it last night. He Tian is still knocked out cold in his bed.

Guan Shan peers at He Tian and sticks a hand on his forehead. He’s still a bit warm to the touch and a little pale but it seems like he’s sweated off most of his fever at least. After filling a basin with water to wipe down He Tian’s fever sweat, Guan Shan goes to undresses him, taking off his soaked shirt and only hesitating for a second about his pants before thinking ‘Might as well’, and wipes him down with the cold towel until his hand doesn’t feel like it’s touching a furnace whenever he lays it on He Tian’s skin. Then he dressed him up with matching button up pajama top and bottoms before slapping on a fever patch on his forehead and tucking him back to bed.

All of that and He Tian didn’t even so much as make a sound. Guan Shan is starting to admit to himself that maybe he did use a little too much pseudoephedrine on the stew. Belatedly, he thinks if it was a good idea to mix in flu medicine in it as well.

“Ah, fuck it.” He shrugs as he sprays some disinfectant on his hands (better safe than sorry; he can’t risk getting He Tian’s germs and miss a day of work). What’s done is done. At least it worked to get his fever down. He doesn’t seem to be having any more troubles with his sinuses either. “He’ll thank me later.”

He Tian won’t, probably. Instead, he’ll probably leer at Guan Shan as per usual and make quips about him taking advantage of him while he’s in a “vulnerable” state—in quotation marks because He Tian is never really vulnerable in whatever state he is, in Guan Shan’s opinion. Fucking menace. 

He Tian’s phone vibrates on his night stand and Guan Shan peers to see He Cheng’s name on the caller ID.

It’s probably important but like hell he’ll answer He Cheng’s call.

Guang Shan nearly spills his basin of water when his phone vibrates with a call and he sees He Cheng’s name on the caller ID.

Holy fucking shit.

Out of sheer terror in knowing that not answering is the worse option, Guan Shan puts the basin in the sink and slides his thumb over the screen to pick up the call. 

“Hello—”

"You roofied my brother," came He Cheng’s low flat baritone.

Fuck! They must’ve come in after he left last night or something!

"What—I—” His eyes travels to the kitchen counter and sees the bottle of flu medicine already opened which confirms it. “Well...h-he wouldn't rest otherwise!” 

Guan Shan decides to get into defensive mode. What’s He Cheng gonna do? Have him beat up for basically taking care of his stupid brother? 

“He was gonna get himself killed walking all sick and shit! Hell! He was gonna get people killed by infecting them with his germs! He—”

There's low laughter on the other end of the line but it wasn't from He Cheng.

"He drugged your brother. Oh, man. This kid really has guts." Brother Qiu? "Your brother's gonna kill him."

Fuck. He's right. And the realization that he just drugged a mobster boss’s brother is starting to sink into Guan Shan fast.

"Listen, I—”

"Thank you for taking care of He Tian, Mo Guan Shan. Rest assured you will be compensated."

"Erm—That's really not necessa—"

The line was already dead.

Well. At least he knows he’s not gonna get dragged by He Cheng’s goons to get beat up on a remote warehouse somewhere.

He Tian wakes up just as the sun sets. Guan Shan is watching some re-run of a movie in the living room when He Tian stalks over with a dark look on his face.

"You drugged me." He Tian says, voice flat and inflectionless just stating facts. “You drugged me.”

"I—" Guan Shan sits up from his slump on the couch upon seeing thunder on He Tian’s face. “Look! I was just—”

"You fucking roofied me."

"It wasn't roofy, you di—!"

"Jesus, Guan Shan. You put in enough drugs to knock out an elephant. What was it? NyQuill?"

“It’s just some generic shit from the corner pharmacy.” As if Guan Shan has the money to spend on branded shit. “Had to crush and put in some flu tablets as well. You wouldn’t have taken them otherwise.”

“Fucking hell.” He Tian sighs, putting a hand to his face and sounding like he doesn’t know whether to laugh or be annoyed. "You know, you don't have to date-rape drug me to get your way with me, right?”

"Chicken dick! That is not what—"

"But thanks."

He Tian plops on the couch over him, burying his face in Guan Shan’s chest. Guan Shan only puts up a token protest at the sudden weight before sighing and sinking back in the cushions with He Tian’s still warmer than normal body on top of him. He shifts to re-arrange them so they're both comfortable and not half hanging off the couch. He Tian grunts at being jostled and Guang Shan's hand instinctivley comes up to stroke at his hair to soothe.

"We're gonna have to fumigate your bed at this point,” he comments idly. He Tian had let his germs and sick fester and it would've probably mutated into some new strand of disease if Guan Shan hadn't done what he did. "Fucking hell, Tian."

"Burn it, shred it, toss the whole damn thing out, I don't care." He Tian wounds his arms around Guan Shan’s waist, nuzzling his face needily on his chest. "I've got myself the best bed here anyway."

"Don't treat me like a mattress and don't fucking get your snot on me or I swear to god." 

A half-hearted threat that He Tian knows Guan Shan would not go through if only because he doesn't push him away and the hand stroking his hair hasn't stopped. 

“Can you eat? You haven’t had anything all day and you need something in you before drinking the meds again.”

“Mm. Later.”

“Okay.”

Guan Shan drapes the throw-over blanket they keep on the couch over them, making sure He Tian is covered up to his shoulders. He puts a palm on He Tian’s forehead and neck to check for his temperature and sighs in relief when he deems it's gone down enough that he can just sleep it off. 

He Tian falls asleep to the low sound of the TV, the steady staccato beats of Guan Shan's heart, long fingers making soothing motions through his scalp, warm and safe, and already knowing he'll wake up feeling better.

[tightjeansjavi]

I’m thinking of writing another fluff drabble for Javi Peña bc that man really goes through it in season 3!

@angelofsmalldeath-codeine said that season 3 is burn out Javi and I agree 😔

That being said, how do we feel about putting Mr grumpy pants in the tub, applying a face mask on him (he begrudgingly agrees) and then feeding him some fruit?

[doctorhimbeere]

You know most of the time when I think or read smuty Starlinggale fanfic I think about Thomas beeing the bottom but than I remember that CANON moment in the books (don't aske me which one ) threatened the lawer who has been screwing around with magic without proper knowledge. You know the scene WERE HE PINS HIM DOWN WITH MAGIC AND TAKES HIS ABILETY TO MOVE AND SPEAK LIKE ITS NOTHING AND LECTURESHIM IN A COLD AND PISSED OF WAY......I mean DAMN Thomas ...I know for a fact that Peter who sat next to them and had no idear what was gonna happen developed several kinks on the spot .

[mblue-art]

It's me again, anon, who adores your love-hate towards Cross. Friend recently showed me a video in tiktok where there was a sound of 'oh I hate that man...but oh, cara mia...how i love him'. It immediately reminded me of you. Tsunderes keep winning. Let's go tsunderes ✊️

hhhh h hhhi anon i do, i do ha-

[slushi-chan]

I wanna play with Severen’s hair so bad

[wellthebardsdead]

Kaidan: *trying to pull on his armour the day after the dragonborn saved him* oh god- ow- f-fuck-

Dragonborn: *grabs hold of them and starts pulling his armour off him* what are you doing?! You should be resting! Your arms only just got blood flow back to them after being elevated for so long!

Kaidan: I-I need to be ready to protect you, I need to pay off my debt to you for saving me. I can’t do that laying in your bed in your house being useless!

Dragonborn: And you’ll die trying to swing a sword in your condition! I don’t care about your ‘debt!’ I don’t even consider you having a debt to me!! Please, just rest. I can protect myself…

Kaidan: *tearfully let’s them remove his armour before laying back down* okay…

[corvidaearts]

Ok but.. what if he wore a dress post plant revivial for his disguise instead?

[lilacwriter07]

I think we need more Urahara centric angst fanfics, where our daddy milf is so angst with himself . And Ichigo sweeps into the Shoten, taking care of Urahara like the man deserves 😌

[aurumacadicus]

maybe omega!Tony helps omega!Steve with his heat? can be as explicit or nonexplicit as you wish

Huh! I’ve done comedic/warm and fuzzy omega/omega but never sexy 🤔 Let’s see what happens!

--

“This is, uh. This is quite a selection,” Steve tried to say as diplomatically as possible.

Apparently not diplomatic enough, because Tony’s face immediately fell. “Oh my god you hate it.”

“I don’t hate it!” Steve assured him quickly, turning away from the very kind gesture of... Okay, frankly, the entire wall of sexual implements was intimidating. He didn’t even know what half of them were, and he was kind of distracted by the fact that both the fuck machine and Sybian saddle were obviously set to Tony’s measurements, which didn’t help the fact that Steve’s libido had been simmering at a very steady medium-high for the last three days. “I don’t. It was very kind of you to offer me the use of your... collection.”

Tony glanced between his face and the closet, disappointment quickly morphing into humiliation. “Oh my god this was too much. You think I’m a nympho or something.”

“I don’t think you’re a nympho!” Steve exclaimed, exasperated. “I just--this is so much, Tony, and the last time I had an unmedicated heat, all that existed were knotting dildos--”

“That you knew of,” Tony muttered.

Steve was not even going to touch that. “--So it’s just... a little overwhelming?”

Tony glanced into the closet, looking guilty again. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, Tony,” Steve told him firmly, because he didn’t. Quite frankly, he probably should have been building his own collection and doing some exploring himself. “And maybe, when I’m not on the cusp of heat, we can explore some of your toys together.” He really wanted to know about that Sybian saddle. “For now, can we just... would it be okay if we just touched each other? Got used to each other’s bodies first?”

“...You don’t want me to grab one of the knotting dildos?” Tony asked, shoulders hunching a little. “I don’t--I can probably get you off, but you might like the comfort of a knot, too.”

Steve reached out, cupping Tony’s cheeks in his hands and carefully tracing the shape of his cheekbones with his thumbs. “Maybe a little further into my heat,” he allowed, watching as Tony’s shoulders relaxed. “I think, to begin with, I’d like to focus on you and me. I’ll tell you if I want a knot, okay?”

“Okay,” Tony breathed, leaning his face into Steve’s hands.

“I’m actually pretty excited, Tony,” Steve added, and smiled when Tony perked up a little. “You’ve got such clever hands. I can’t wait to have your fingers inside me.”

“Hh,” Tony squeaked, and Steve marveled as Tony’s face flooded with heat.

“Oh my god,” Steve began.

“Stop,” Tony told him immediately. “I’m just not used to being complimented like that okay. Listen. Listen I said--”

Steve began bullying him back toward Tony’s bed. Traditionally, they’d share his heat in his bed, so he’d feel more comfortable and at home. But Tony didn’t seem too terribly put out with his bed being their mating spot, and Steve probably wouldn’t have made it back to his room without embarrassing himself. “And you have such a wicked mouth, Tony, I can’t wait for you to use it on me.”

“If you sit on my face you’ll crush me can I eat you out while you’re on your knees,” Tony babbled frantically. “Or--as long as you promise to only smother me a little that would be fine too, I like that--”

Steve couldn’t keep from clutching Tony to his body even if he wanted to. “You’ll eat me out?” he breathed, hoping he didn’t sound too surprised.

“...What else did you mean?” Tony asked, looking bewildered, and then cried out, “Steve!” as Steve let go of him to crumple to the ground.

Steve took a moment to just crouch on the ground, hands gripping into fists so tight that his knuckles went white. He’d never been eaten out before. He’d heard it was really good. Bucky had bragged about doing it to his dames, and his dames had always looked pleased as punch, all glowing smirks, whenever they caught him gloating. He’d always wondered. And Tony just. Assumed that’s what he meant about his mouth.

“I’m too horny to get up,” Steve whined, and he knew his pants were soaked with how slick he was. He thanked every god he could think of for deciding to listen to Tony when he’d raised his eyebrows at his khakis and said sweatpants would help with the discomfort of bloating. At least they wouldn’t be struggling to get them off.

“I, um, oh,” Tony said, and Steve couldn’t tell if he was panicking or also contending with his blood rushing south. “That’s, ah--I could get the suit? To pick you up? Or I could just eat you here on the floor, this is a good position actually--”

Steve was in actual physical pain. On one hand, being hefted around was filling him with a thrill, and he didn’t even care that the suit would be doing the bulk of the work instead of Tony--actually, he was pretty shocked by how much he liked the idea. On the other hand, he was perfectly fine with not going anywhere, just staying here on the ground with his ass up in the air while Tony licked into him. The simmer that had been thrumming through him the past few days was quickly reaching a roaring boil, and he realized with a jolt that the lead-up was over--his preheat was over. The heat was here.

“Okay,” Tony said, and that was the Tony he knew and loved, the one who took stock and took charge. “Okay, I’m not leaving, I’m grabbing some pillows for our knees. Can you take your pants off yourself?”

Steve tried to lift one shaking hand, but he suddenly felt exhausted, the effort insurmountable. He didn’t think he could lift his other hand when it was holding all of his weight, the idea of shifting back onto his heels too daunting. He just... he just wanted to be taken care of.

“That’s fine,” Tony told him kindly, coming back over to him. “I’ll do it. I just didn’t know if you might want to do it yourself. Here, you just have to be strong enough to lift your knees for a moment. One at a time if you need to. There you go,” he praised as Steve managed to lift his trembling legs, one after the other, and settled his knees in the middle of the pillow. “That’s good.” He placed a pillow directly under Steve’s head, then circled around him. “I’m going to pull your pants down, okay? We’ll worry about getting them off in a different position. Are you ready?”

“Your pillow,” Steve mumbled, frowning down at the one beneath him in confusion.

“I’ve got my pillow,” Tony assured him. “I’ve got many pillows. You get two pillows because... uh... because it’s your heat. Yeah, that’s why.”

“Oh,” Steve said, because that didn’t sound right or even halfway convincing, but the idea of getting Tony’s mouth on him was more important. “Okay.”

He only discovered what the pillow was for as Tony was eating him through his third orgasm, elbows giving out so he face-planted directly into it.

[positively-peachy-143]

There's this guy at my school who's literally so Bob Sheldon coded its crazy. He's like super insensitive and pushy and attention whore-ish (I got a video of him actually harassing me) but also his parents gave him free reign of everything his entire life and he probably just wants someone to finally tell him no and push back and then when that day comes he'll be outwardly upset but inside he'll be smiling and relieved

[intersexalastor]

we need more content of dabi teaming up with his doubles to give twice a lil treat <3

[metamelonisle]

string gummy wrapped up in a little blanky cocoon as a funny silly prank

[elafranco2024]

Happy Birthday to the most adorable spoiled brat in his slutty coat💙💙💙💙💙💙

[sttoru]

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. bragging about your oh-so-perfect boyfriend to your friends certainly has its (welcomed) consequences. . .

tags. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. fluff & smut. p in v -> unprotected. missionary. sweet but also nasty and condescending. creampie. body worship. size difference / - kink. nicknames ‘(little) princess, baby’. name calling once. not proof read bcs im sleepy. wc. 2k+

“right! he’s so thoughtful,” you sigh dreamily as you chat with your friends over the phone. you’re laying on satoru’s bed, kicking your feet up while you remove your make-up. of course, you had to call your girls to tell them all about the little date you just had with your boyfriend.

satoru’s in the shower, so you’re taking the time to relive the experience.

“here she goes again y’all,” one of your friends sighs dramatically, to which the others follow with giggles of their own. they know that you can go on and on about your partner. they’ve heard all of it before.

you grin and roll your eyes, rubbing the cleansing wipe over your lips, removing the light pink gloss you had on. you’re all giddy as you recall what satoru has done and given to you this evening. you’ve been pampered—spoiled rotten.

“hey! don’t blame me,” you retort with a chuckle. your friends laugh and urge you to go on since they’re only joking. the stories you tell are always either adorable or heartwarming, and thus they’re happy to listen. plus, debriefing you on your love life is free entertainment.

it’s not unusual for you to stray from the main story. you ramble about the restaurant you’ve visited, the pretty green scenery you’ve walked past, the museum you’ve visited, the way satoru paid for everything and how he made sure to pick activities you’re interested.

you get an occasional ‘aww’ or ‘cuteee’ when you mention your boyfriend’s loving gestures. from the enormous bouquet of flowers he’s gotten you, to the fact that he carried you back into his apartment the moment you told him your feet were hurting.

walking in heels wasn’t the smart move you thought it was, though luckily you had a thoughtful lover by your side.

“he’s just so handsome ‘n stuff. god—“ you squeal, not even bothering to dampen your excitement. you hide your face behind your hands for a split second, gaining a few fan girling squeaks from your friends as well. they’re happy that you’re being treated like deserved.

you don’t hear the door of the bedroom open since you’re too busy gushing about satoru. you’re focused on your small pocket mirror, careful not to forget a spot on your face. you notice that your friends have gone quiet, but you don’t question it.

“his gentle personality is honestly such a turn-on,” you mumble as you rub off the concealer from under your eyes, “and his subtle yet possessive touches? phew, don’t get me started.” you continue to babble on about how hot satoru is when he gets mad, unable to point out a flaw.

you’re about to comment on your friends’ sudden silence when a hand lands on your shoulder. you freeze and finally make eye contact with no one other than satoru—hovering over you from behind. he’s smiling down at you and mumbles a quick, ‘hey, baby’, before kissing your forehead.

you try to explain the situation, yet have no idea where to start. you can hear a friend of yours snickering and another faintly whisper an ‘oh, girl. . .’

before you have the ability to get another word out, satoru cuts you off, waving at your front camera for a second. his smile reaches his eyes and his dimples show;

“hey ladies, mind if i steal my girl from you?” satoru asks as he puts an arm around you. he places his cheek against yours, awaiting an answer. your friends are left speechless at the sudden turn of events.

the white-haired man appears extremely good on screen. he’s basically blessing them with his handsome looks. the towel hanging over his head indicates that he just came out of a fresh shower. there’s a visible vein running down his neck—nearly bulging out of the skin—as if satoru’s holding himself back.

once your friends snap out of their daze, they greet satoru and nod, exchanging quick ‘see you later’s. your boyfriend thanks them with another one of his charming smiles. he waves at the camera again, “bye bye, thank you.”

the call ends and the bedroom falls quiet. you stare at your screen which fades to black, completely dumbfounded. you quickly sit up—your mind a chaotic mess full of thoughts.

“satoru, i uhm, i didn’t know—“ you attempt to form an explanation, though you realise that it’s likely futile. satoru’s probably heard every word that left your mouth. you look up at him, your voice a quiet whisper, “how much did you hear?”

the sorcerer grins. he’s so enamored with you; everything you do is adorable. he grabs your hands and holds then into his larger ones—thumbs gently rubbing your skin. he pulls them up to his lips so he could place chaste kisses on your knuckles.

“everything, princess,” satoru hums, rotating your hands to place kisses on the inside of your wrists. there’s a subtle blush on his cheeks that even reaches his ears. no matter how calm and collected he may seem, he’s still but a complete sucker to your love, “talking about me to your little friends, hm? how cute.”

a shiver runs down your spine. you feel your tummy turn as you’re slowly guided onto your back. multiple kisses cover your body—from head to toe—like a canvas getting painted on. satoru’s taking his sweet time, admiring the art that’s your physique.

every piece of clothing that comes off is a step closer to the grande revelation. the masterpiece that is you. moving from one empty spot - filling it with his kisses - to another. sighs of content leave your lover’s mouth with each reveal, as if he hasn’t seen the sight of your naked body before.

“does this turn you on, baby? my ‘subtle touches’?” satoru mutters against your breasts, remembering your earlier words. his blue eyes stare up at you through his white lashes. not wearing his blindfold may overstimulate him due to his abilities, but he’ll risk anything if it’s to admire you the best he can.

he chuckles when you nod. your boyfriend kisses your hard nipples—taking his time to swirl his tongue around both of them just to feel your back arch off the mattress. your hands holding onto him for life is extremely thrilling. “it turns me on too,” satoru confesses quietly. his slender fingers reach the hem of your panties, “you turn me on so fuckin’ much.”

your breath hitches when your underwear gets tossed somewhere across the room. you’re dripping, obviously. there’s no way you couldn’t get turned on by the way satoru’s been worshipping your entire being.

you can also see the effect you have on him; he’s sweating. the vein on his neck seems to grow more visible when your cunt is revealed to him.

“there she is,” satoru grins in satisfaction. he seems to be in a daze for a second before he regains composure. he looks at you for a quick check, needing to know if he has your consent before he continues. the moment you nod, your lover separates your legs.

you sniff and try to hide your embarrassed expression behind a hand. satoru’s quick to pin your wrist above your head so you wouldn’t have the chance to do any of that. “keep your eyes on me, yeah?” he leans in to place a swift kiss on your lips.

“mhm,” you nod after returning the peck. the white-haired man utters a small ‘thank you’ and undoes his sweatpants with his free hand. he fumbles with his boxers—unable to keep himself from trembling in pleasure from the view alone.

your small body underneath him is a sight he’ll never get tired of. that face of yours morphing into one of pleasure whenever you’re intimate is one of his favorite things to witness. thus why the missionary is his go to position.

“c’mon,” satoru kisses your cheek as he manages to pull his erected cock out of his underwear. it’s standing tall, the tip pointing right at the place it wants to be buried at—your wet, warm and inviting pussy, “you were so loud when talking with y’r friends ‘n now you’ve gone quiet on me.”

satoru pouts, “it’s not fair. i wanna hear my princess too.”

you almost choke on your spit because of how whiny yet demanding satoru sounds. you feel his fingers intertwine with yours, firmly holding your hand down above your head. you’re still flustered by the entire situation. you open your mouth as tears gather in your eyes, “i’m sorry, i’m jus— ngh!”

you can’t even get your words out. the lewd feeling of satoru rubbing his tip between your folds completely catches you off guard. he grins, as if he planned on doing that the moment you tried to speak. he’s such a tease.

“shh, shh, i know,” satoru coos mockingly, acting like he’s not doing it on purpose. you can’t blame the man; he’s been rock hard ever since he heard you praise him so openly through the phone. your lovely voice speaking so highly of him was driving him nuts.

you’re so appreciative for all he’s doing and it makes the sorcerer want to spoil you even more. to give you the love and affection you deserve because of how precious you are—even if you don’t realise it.

he wants to give you more. more, more, more.

without thinking, satoru pushes his cock right through your tight cunt. he shudders at the sight of your poor, small pussy struggling to take his fat dick. he can’t hurt you, he knows. especially with the amount of times the bulbous head of his cock nearly bruised your cervix.

though, it’s difficult not to go all out. you’re so accepting of everything he does—satoru can see that by the way your eyes stare at him. it’s all love. the light reflecting in your pupils makes them sparkle beautifully. he cusses under his breath, “y’re so pretty, baby. fuck, fuck, fuck. y’re making it so hard.”

satoru tries his best not to plunge his cock all the way to the hilt. he reaches halfway with each thrust, the thwacking sound increasing by the second. your legs automatically wrap around his waist and your fingers squeeze his.

“toruuu, fmhh, so big,” you babble, the drool forming in the corners of your lips threatening to drip down your chin. each soft yet firm thrust seems to resonate within you, evoking a sense of pleasurable contentment.

satoru lets out a haughty chuckle at the sight of you going cockdrunk already. he’s still trying to hold his urges back by focusing on your satisfaction alone. “i’ll give you something else to brag ‘bout to y’r friends,” he pants with a confident smirk, kissing your jawline as he ruts into you,

you’re embarrassed by your current predicament. despite that, you find yourself enjoying every consequence that your actions have caused. your moans echo in satoru’s ears, each slap of your bodies connecting sounding twice as loud.

his thick cock is stretching you out so well. your cunt is working overtime to make space for every inch. your boyfriend gently bites your bottom lip, his breath faltering when you clench around him in response.

“‘re ya gonna tell them?” satoru asks through a guttural moan. his hips move non-stop, aiming to please you until you lose your mind. he’ll live up to the expectations set no matter what. he kisses the swell of your breasts, “are ya gonna tell ‘em how you let your ‘lovely’ boyfriend fuck you like this? how y’re a complete slut for his cock?”

you don’t know how to react to his dirty talk. it’s getting you wetter, that’s for sure. your thighs shake around his waist and your tummy feels like it’s doing flips. satoru doesn’t leave it there, “gonna tell them about how good i fill you up, yeah? dirty little girl telling all her friends about our private life, tsk tsk.”

it’s overwhelming. the sudden increase in dirty talk makes you want to cum on spot. you feel like you’re being degraded, however satoru’s touches make you feel appreciated and loved. his hand holding yours above your head never leaves you—a sign that this is still him making love to you.

“am—am not gonna,” you hiccup. the words simply roll of your tongue without much thought. you’re mindlessly responding to your lover. “am not gonna tell them anything,” you continue before cutting yourself off with a string of whiny moans when satoru plays with your clit.

satoru shakes his head, increasing the pressure and speed in which he’s pumping into you. he loves the view of you being so helpless—succumbing to the pleasure he’s granting you. “sureeee, i believe you,” your boyfriend snickers and pushes his pulsing cock in further. his tone is soft but condescending, “i’ll trust my little princess to keep her mouth shut f’me.”

you’re getting so close. your nails dig into his skin and your noises get louder. you’re right on the edge of euphoria. the clit stimulation along with the feeling of being filled to the brim is enough to make you see stars.

satoru nods at your desperate whimpers that alarm him that you’re close to climax. “i got you, baby. cum f’me—i got you,” he places sloppy kisses all over your face and rams his cock in and out of you in a stronger rhythm. there’s nothing satoru wants to do in this world more than to flood your insides with his cum.

his cock doesn’t stop prodding at your sweet spots and it’s making you approach that peak; the peak of pleasure that’s going to push you over the edge. you hold tightly onto your lover and he doesn’t hesitate to return the embrace. “it’s okay, do it f’me,” satoru encourages you once again through a husky whisper.

you’re thankful that you have such an attentive partner. he can go from teasing you to comforting you and it’s the most reassuring thing ever. you’ve never had a man hold you so intimately while he’s balls deep into you.

“g’nna cum,” a strangled moan leaves your throat when you try to speak. your chests are pressed together and your heartbeats match—like the perfect pair you are. satoru feels his balls clench with an aching feeling, needing to release every last drop they have stored into your tiny cunt.

just thinking about the way you were bragging about him again, is enough. “take it—fuuuckk—take it all, baby,” the white-haired man takes a deep breath in and can’t help but bury his entire dick inside of you, that one last thrust making you yelp.

you reach your climaxes at the exact same time. your fluids mix as you feel satoru’s thick spurts of cum coat your insides a sticky white. your body spasms and your boyfriend instantly soothes you by rubbing your back. his own legs are trembling a little, but you’re far more important.

you don’t utter a word and simply focus on regaining your energy. all that you can say are incoherent babbles. “easy,” satoru kisses the corners of your eyes and relishes in the fact that he’s fucked you full of his cum. it’s a reminder of just how much he loves you.

a few encouraging words and hugs later and you’ve calmed down. you don’t fully grasp the reality of the situation until the adrenaline and other hormones drop down to a normal level.

you’re suddenly reminded by your previous words and this time, you succeed in hiding your face into the crook of satoru’s neck.

it’s certain that he’s greatly enjoyed overhearing you talk about him to your friends, but it’s still a somewhat embarrassing memory you wish to forget. “not a word, please. j-jus act like you haven’t heard anything,” you mumble quietly now that you’ve come down from your high.

satoru laughs softly. he can’t help but tease you after that—it’s a given. you’re still so caught up on what happened and it’s endearing.

however, satoru wouldn’t be him if he didn’t tease you about your little comments. without pulling out, he tilts his head back and stares down at you with a faint grin, “do i have to act like i haven’t fucked you silly just now too?”

“satoru!”

[tonycries]

A ranking of JJK men from best to worst during your period (absolutely no one asked for this):

Nanami - Are you kidding me? In what world would this perfect husband NOT be number one?? Doesn't even need that lil' app on his phone to track your periods, bro remembers. He has it mapped out in his brain AND on his calendar. You don't even have to tell him when it starts, he'll be home with chocolates, your fav movies, and enough heating pads to last a lifetime going, "Hi, my love, I hope m'not too early but I got you these." He's never too early. Never.

Geto - Bro has been through the whole process twice already with his daughters. He KNOWS exactly what's going down when you get just a lil' too sensitive, when your cravings become just a tad sweeter. Would lay you down and give you the most soothing massages whispering about how it'll "all be over soon" and "his girl can tough it out." 10/10 is so patient, even has a period tracker on his phone.

Choso - Y'know he's a lil' confused but he's got the spirit. Curses don't have periods so trust he'll be MAD confused wondering whether you've somehow developed the same jujutsu technique as him. When you teach him though, he's gonna be the sweetest babygirl. Let's you cuddle and use him all you want, throw him around to your hearts content until you have the perfect pillow!! Only minus points would be for that little intrusive thought in his brain that just wants to.....experiment......with his technique....

Gojo - Now, you'd be confused about who has the period - you or HIM? Which, honestly if distraction is your go-to then it works out pretty well. Every cramp you get, Gojo just hates to see his pretty baby in pain, so he'd be crying out. He'd be right there moaning and groaning along with you until you're crying tears of laughter because what the fuck?? Extra points because he's a sweet connoisseur and knows ALL the best places to get you everything you want. Trust, bro doesn't skimp out either he'd be diving IN to that Gojo Estate old money just to get you more than everything you need. Much more.

Toji - Now, hear me out it's not that man doesn't know what to do. It's just that he doesn't want to. Not to bully his cute girl, but does he really have to get out of bed and walk the treacherous block down to the convenience store to get you extra pads? Really? He'd much rather stay in bed cuddling you and kissing every inch of your face he could reach - seriously, his old bones are creaking at the very thought of moving. But, eventually, when you do bribe him with a dollar convince him to go, he'd be pampering you and more with your own money.

Sukuna - Bro definitely tells you to "just suck it back in wtf." -3878473 aura for him, but at least Uraume is on your side and gives him a good whack to the head. When he realizes a bit tho would be a bit softer than usual, at least he'll stop calling you his usual names after your sensitive self tears up at them. Mhm, definitely take him to try out a cramp simulator, though he deserves it.

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。yours, always yours

synopsis. satoru has always been yours—and he needs you to know you’ll also always be his

— word count. 2.4k (read the breakup fic first for better understanding, but can be read as a stand-alone)

— contents. fem! reader, college! au, rich boy! gojo, post-getting back together angst that gets a little heated <3, minors do not interact, fingering, unprotected sex, edging, satoru cumming too quick <3, creampie, tbh the smut is short and a lil rushed my b, it ends in fluff tho !! trust !! there is fluff !!

— notes. tbh this will probably get flagged rly fast but oh well u win some u lose some. anywayyyyy here is the make up sex bc yall nasties deserve it <3 jk love u guys

satoru falls first. and he falls hard. everyone knows it, it’s never been a secret.

“you want me to wash your hair?” you ask gently, kissing his shoulder as the water falls over his head. he hums, nodding absentmindedly as he stares blankly at the tiles of your shower wall.

“sure,” he mumbles, “don’t tug.”

“i never tug,” you roll your eyes, snorting. he huffs a small chuckle, but it’s not the usual laugh satoru gives you. it’s mechanic, almost—just there to fill the space. “baby?” you ask softly.

“yeah?” he asks, “oh, should i bend a little? sorry, i—”

“what’re you thinking about?” your hands cup his cheeks, gentle and warm from the hot water as it soaks his skin.

he shakes his head, trying to smile as he clears throat. “just how nice it is to be pampered. maybe i’ll let you break my heart every once in a while so i get my back scrubbed and hair washed like this.”

“satoru,” you insist. you know—and he knows it too. “tell me?”

“why’d you do it?” he mumbles, “why’d you listen to him?”

“toru, you know why,” you sigh, “you know i didn’t think there were any other options.”

“you could’ve talked to me,” he furrows his brows, “just because my stupid old man threatens you with my stupid inheritance doesn’t mean we have to break up.”

“i was afraid you’d choose me.” it comes out as a whisper, like a confession you can’t bear to admit.

“i would have chosen you,” he agrees, “why’s that bad? how’s that wrong—”

“you’re not thinking about the bigger picture,” you shake your head, “that company is yours. you’ve spent your whole life—”

“so what? was i supposed to give up the rest of my life for it too?” he asks tiredly—satoru’s defeated. he’s never been defeated, it’s the most magnetizing thing about him.

even before you date him. he asks and asks and asks no matter how many times you say no. because there’s always a chance you’ll say yes, and he’ll never stop as long as there’s a chance.

“i’m sorry,” you sniffle, lips wobbling, “i could have….i should have said something. i didn’t want you to make a choice young and then….and then regret it.”

“you think i’d regret you?” he’s wounded—absolutely wounded at the words.

satoru has always been careful, diligent and so, so meticulous to love you right, to love you how you need to be loved. hadn’t that proven enough? that he was in it for the long run—for forever? he’d been so sure you’d be his future, that the break up feels like waking up from a peaceful dream to a house fire—devastating, with smoke in his nose and lungs that he can’t breathe right, and everything gone within a moment before he can even register it.

he stares at the ashes in despair. nothing prepared him for the hollowness of not being yours—because satoru has never cared to make you his. all he’s ever wanted was to be yours.

you’re quick to remove him from everything, deleting pictures from your socials, untagging him from posts, removing him from your private stories and close friends list. he doesn’t understand how you could change your mind so quickly—and then he realizes you probably don’t. because he knows you—better than anyone ever has, satoru knows you.

so he’s comes to you, drenched from the rain, from standing outside your door even as the water pelts against his skin because he’s determined. he’s going to get an answer out of you, going to make you explain why you pulled him in so close, let him reside in your heart and fall asleep to the comforting rhythm of its beating—and then push him out like he’s nothing. what made you push him out?

and finally, when he does, when you let him be yours again and admit it’s never what you wanted, that it’s because it’s what his father wanted—well, satoru can’t keep his composure. don’t you know? hadn’t he always told you? hadn’t he poured his heart out and let you know every moment he’s always been stuck dangling from his father’s fingers? stuck somewhere between the sky and ground, too high to feel the floor under his feet but never high enough to feel the wind in his face.

you’ve always known, always listened—and fuck, you held him some nights too, let your fingers dip into his hair and soothe his sorrows of always being stuck.

satoru’s always been stuck, always had every choice made for him and every instruction carefully laid out on the table. and then you decided to make his choice for him too, walking away and choosing his future for him like he’s never had a say.

he’s always been stuck, but never with you—but now, he wonders if that’s changed.

“no,” you squeeze his cheeks, “no i don’t think you’d regret me….but satoru losing what you have is a big thing,” you mumble, “people work their whole lives not having a fraction of what you do. that’s a lot to let you lose.”

“i’ve never seen my dad kiss my mom,” he stares at you, hard and unwavering, his eyes stare into yours, “he’s never held her hand or made her laugh. and you know what she told me? that she would sell her share of everything to have what we do. why do you always look at me for what i have first?” he asks angrily, the water pouring over his shoulders as they shake, “why can’t you just look at me first for once?”

“i do look at you,” you insist, “toru, all i ever see is you—”

“then stop caring what he says,” he says louder, his voice echoing through the small bathroom of your small apartment.

everything about your home is small—smaller than satoru’s especially. but he loves it, thinks he’d rather be here than anywhere else.

because it’s yours. and as long as you’re here, the world fits into this tiny apartment, the galaxy too.

“okay,” you say shakily. and then you nod, looking him in the eye, “you’ll handle it?”

he nods, kissing between your brows, “yeah, i’ll handle it. who else is gonna take over that company anyway?”

“but what if he finds someone else? and then he—”

“he won’t. my grandpa will shred him.”

“but he’s old, and he stepped down, so what really can he do if your dad decides—”

“god, baby,” he groans, pushing your body against the wall gently, “i love your voice, but you talk so much. i’m wanna listen to something else.”

his lips find your neck, sucking gently at the skin, hand trailing to your tits before his thumb circles your nipple. it’s slow, deliberate, teasing as it rolls over the bud.

you whimper, clutching onto him as a breathy, “t-toru,” leaves your lips.

“yeah,” he nods, “that’s what i wanna listen to instead.” his lips are in a grin against your neck, kissing and biting until he reaches your collarbone. “anyone dm you after you took me out of your socials?” he asks bitterly.

“j-just one,” you admit through a stutter, “b-but i didn’t even open it! i wasn’t really—oh, toru,” you gasp as his finger finds your clit, spreading your legs as he lets out a soft growl at your words.

“what? just cause my face isn’t on your instagram suddenly you’re not mine?” he asks, thumb rubbing harsh circles against the sensitive bundle of nerves—you close your eyes, moaning as your arms wrap tightly around his neck. “you’re always mine,” he murmurs against your ear, low and careful so you hear him well, “yeah? got that?”

“got it,” you nod furiously.

“got what?”

“‘m al-always—oh, fuck,” you mewl as one finger prods at your entrance, gathering your slick before slowly sliding through your walls.

“c’mon, sweetheart,” he says firmly, “finish your sentences.”

“always yours, toru! always yours—please, please j-just…”

“just what?” he raises a brow.

“more,” you sob—it’s a broken plea as your hips thrust against his finger.

he’s quick to slide in a second, thrusting his digits mercilessly into your soaked cunt, his palm gliding over your clit as the slick sound of his fingers fucking you is almost drowned by the water in the back.

your water bill will be high this month. you decide it’s a sacrifice satoru deserves.

“you think someone could ever learn this body better than me? make you cum like i can? you think anyone will ever love you enough to learn you like i do?”

“n-no,” you pant, his fingers hitting that spot inside of you so perfectly, you feel that dull ache build up quickly. it’s good—everything with satoru is good. his other hand finds your chest to pinch a nipple, twisting and squeezing until your nails leave indents on his shoulders as you moan loudly. “no one—no one but you.”

“exactly,” he growls, “how could you leave me? how could you leave us?”

“‘m sorry,” you sniffle, whimpering when the tips of his fingers slam against that spongey spot of your walls, fluttering around him and squeezing him in. you’re close—so close that you almost don’t know what he’s saying anymore, too focused on the way your impending orgasm is approaching. fast. “i’m sorry, i’ll never—ever leave again.”

“say you love me,” he demands.

it sounds like he’s pleading, though, if you listen closely. there’s a small crack in his voice, a slight shakiness that makes you force your eyes open and stare at him and whisper, “i love you, satoru. i love you.”

and then he rips his fingers out—right before you’re about to cum. you gasp, pleading nonsense as you cling to him and buck your hips and search for something, anything to take you over the edge.

and then you hear a sniffle. is he crying? is that wet droplet on your shoulder a tear or the water? you’re too busy calming down from your orgasm dying before it ever came to focus.

satoru’s hard against your thigh, throbbing and painful to sink into you. he strokes himself a few times, whimpers as his thumb gathers the pre cum from the sensitive tip, smearing it along his length as he shakily lets out a quiet moan.

“f-fuck, i gotta feel you. please, can i? please—”

“yes,” you pull him closer, grinding your heat over his hard-on, “yes please, toru. more, need more.”

he’s sliding along your folds, dragging the tip of his cock along your entrance and smearing a mix of your arousal with his. and then slowly, ever so gently, he’s pushing into your after that, pushing past your walls and bullying into your soaked cunt, curving into you perfectly.

it’s only been a week—you feel like you haven’t felt him in years. but it’s familiar. you remember every part of him, including every vein that drags along your walls and makes your head spin. he remembers every part of you, including where that spot is that he needs to angle his hips to find.

he slams into you, hard and rough and fast—doesn’t even let you adjust your position to hold onto him tighter before he’s thrusting his hips and fucking into you desperately. you can feel him, every inch of his skin against you, every part of him that’s touching you. and you can feel the way his cock nudges past your folds, the friction burning pleasure through ever nerve.

satoru knows how to fuck you, just like he knows how to love you, he knows your body—every dip and ever curve, every place to touch and every part that has you gushing around him. it’s just the way he is, too good at giving you what you want, what you need.

when he moans, it’s breathy and he’s panting as he lets out those soft whimpers that make your head spin. “feel that? feel me?” he asks, grunting as you squeeze around his length.

“yeah,” you breathe, “‘m so full.”

“i need you. please, please,” he murmurs, “can’t lose you, baby. never you,” he chants, the quiver in his voice tearing you apart.

“i’m right here,” you gasp, lacing your fingers with his and squeezing his hand. he squeezes back, just to let you know he’s there too, “right here, baby. you got me.”

and then he cums, just as soon as you whisper that—he spills right into you with a broken cry, his hips rolling, needy and desperate and so, so lost on the pleasure. he’s too busy working himself through his high, trembling over your body to care he’s cum too quick—and you don’t have it in you to tease him. you can feel the hot ropes of cum filling you, painting your walls white, fucking deep into you as the blunt head of his cock slams into you without a second of hesitation.

but he doesn’t stop, doesn’t falter that brutal pace as his hips slam into you, perfectly kissing your sweet spot every time. and before long, you break—your head pushes back against the wall behind you, mouth parted as you wail his name and cum—hard. you’re quivering and spasming around his swollen cock, enough that he whimpers at the way you’re so tight.

it’s good, it’s always good. satoru makes you feel good. he’s the best you’ve ever had—the best you’ll ever find.

and then you hear it again, the sniffle into your neck as he clutches you tightly. you know for sure that wet droplet is a tear this time, and your fingers tangle into his hair as you stroke the wet strands.

“i love you, toru,” you murmur, “my sweet boy. i’m sorry, okay? i’m so sorry.”

“don’t do that again,” he huffs in between tears, “that was so mean. so mean.”

“i said i won’t,” you chuckle, fighting back your own tears, “how long are you gonna hold this against me?”

“how long do you plan on being mine?”

“well,” you pull him from your neck, cupping his cheeks as you wipe away tears and peck his lips softly, “i think….forever.”

“well, get ready, then,” he glares softly, “i’m gonna hold this against you forever too.”

“okay,” you nod, “that’s fair.”

“and i love you too,” he adds, “but block whoever dm’d you. it better not be that zenin boy.”

“block those girls who’s pictures you liked,” you shoot back, glaring at him with a pout of your own.

“don’t yell at me,” he mumbles, leaning into your touch as your thumb strokes his cheek, “i’ve had a rough week. you have to be nice.”

dabitee anon. are u seeing this. did u see the satoru who cums too fast. did u see it. report back if u saw this. i repeat, dabitee anon report back if you see this