#this is the form my protest takes

[shiplessoceans]

I fucking love Edward Teach, just scheming his little scheme to get Stede to take him in his arms and embrace him.

Giggling like a schoolgirl as he gets impaled with a sword because 'Omg Steeeede! Your arms are around me how did that happen teehee!'

He was one step away from twirling his hair and asking Stede to prom.

That giddy little bitch how I adore him.

[drawingtheseaonacuttlefish]

At this point... I'll just unfollow whichever mf uses ai art

[blakelywintersfield]

I am absolutely begging y'all to realize that "celtic" and "gaelic" are not interchangeable terms

[polaraffect]

sometimes I truly genuinely forget nuance is dead on the internet and then I have to read people who should be on the same side argue about politics on the internet and I start wanting to bash my head into a wall.

[iliyad]

just because something is valued by the upper class does not mean it is inherently only for the upper class, no matter how much they might want otherwise. art is for everyone, and artists—especially historical artists—created their work to be viewed and appreciated. don’t confuse activism and protest against the upper class for useless and wanton destruction.

van Gogh himself was distraught by the fact that his work wasn’t selling, because he felt that he was a failure to the medium and to the people he was creating his work for. he wrote to his brother once that "I cannot, suffering as I am, do without something which is greater than I, which is my life, the power to create" and "what am I good for, could I not be of service or use in some way?"

the man was literally tormented by his lack of success as a painter and lack of positive effect on the populace around him. i understand wanting to get the attention of the upper class by targeting things that they value, but the hot take that destruction of art as a form of environmental activism is somehow useful or positive is a pretty terrible one, actually because art isn’t only for the upper class and trying to act like it is won’t actually do anything for the cause you’re trying to champion

[pebblezone]

Living life yay huzzah yay

[daydreamerdrew]

More Fun Comics (1935) #59

[dutybcrne]

One-sided Kaebedo idea. Not for angst, but for just the sheer absolute PUPPY MODE Kae would be in trying to make himself useful to Albedo and Albedo realizing okay yeah, maybe it IS kind of cool to have someone THAT dedicated to you helping out with shit-

[shameeater]

The end of online privacy

Now, this isn't something I usually post about from my silly goofy k1nk account (reminder to minors to not follow or scroll this acount).

But I have more followers on here than main, and this is extremely important. Like, scary shit.

This applies to everyone. If you're reading this? It's going to effect you.

I'm sure perhaps some of you have seen around about a this thing going around... KOSA, is one of the ways it's being referred to.

If this shit passes, lemme tell you...

LGBTQ+ adults and minors seeking help and community,

people looking for abortions,

people organizing protests,

anyone using their free speech to voice concerns about injustices, 

even FAN ARTISTS...

Even people reading fan fiction...

And for the purposes of where I'm posting from... people sharing and enjoying their k1nks, wanting to post things with safety and privacy... smut artists and writers, people even LOOKING for smut...

It's all gone. No privacy.

They'll have your face, your name, your age, where you live.

You'll need an ID to use any US-based platform, even if you're NOT in the United States.

Instead of dooming, here's what you can do to stop this shit in it's tracks 👍

Here is a website where you can sign a letter just by filling out a form, (it takes less than 30 seconds) and where you can call reps.

I HIGHLY suggest leaving calls if you're able, and if you have phone shyness, do this after 6pm, since it will leave messages instead.

I'm shy, but I did it!

Here's another letter to sign, takes less than 20 seconds.

Here is a form you can fill out sharing how the social media has POSITIVELY effected you.

Share all of this with as many people as you can. Our safety, freedom, joy, and protection online is at risk more than ever.

(Here is the thread where I found all of this information.)

STAY SAFE!

[sukunas-wife]

Being Sukuna’s Pregnant Wife and being worshipped as a diety because you were able to conceive the four armed hulking cursed child, you must have the blessing of fertility

Having a shrine erected in your name because barren women believed you’d bless them with fertility despite your legacy starting with the child of the curse that torments them all

Telling your hand maids “Don’t bring me my clothes, bring me one of the kings robes.” The hand maids flinching and wanting to protest out of fear of taking the King of Curses robes

The poor naive young hand maid that had grown a crush on the king excitedly rushing if it meant she could enter the private bed chambers,

Scoffing with a malicious smile to your loyal maids when they shook their heads with Sympathy, they learned long before at such a request it would be foolish to go alone, at least 2 or 3 of them would need to go in your name, preferably the ones your husband recognized to be by your side the longest. But you didn’t like this new girl, she was too enthusiastic to work at the palace only to have a complete change in character when she learned she was assigned to work for you

“It’ll serve that poor girl right” you looked away from the door when your loyal hand maids brought out a wooden box with one of Sukuna’s folded Kimono’s they helped you dress your swollen belly accentuated by the belt the kimono tailored to fit your husband left you with extra space and length, it was far more comfortable then the Kimono’s and robes you were, the lingering smell of your husband with comforting as your rubbed your belly hands barely peeking from the massive sleeves

“Let’s go see my husband.” Was all you said as you started your walk, the maids followed close as you made it to the bed chambers, the door was open, you looked in, Sukuna sneering down at the girl laying in a pool of blood, Uraume was making quick work of the mess

Sukuna’s snapped to you and his arm’s opening in an unusual display of affection, you walked around the mess to reach him, he pulled you into his left side, one hand on your waist the other making you face him, bring his right hand up he rested his hand on your stomach “Some of your maids need a lesson on how to speak to their king,” he looked away from your face to your stomach as he started to move his hands in circles “So swollen with my child, it’s no wonder you send your maids to steal my robes.”

You smack his shoulder with a playful smile and he chuckled “Don’t say it like that you make me feel bigger than i am.”

“Now,” he looked up at your face again, “why are you here.”

You tilted your head to the side, “I started contractions this morning, I’ve been in pain all day and I’m barely standing, my new maid wouldn’t stop speaking so highly of my husband accomplishing having a child when I was at my worst pain level getting ready to push out YOUR child that I HAD to carry. Anyhow I came to get you because he is ready to come.”

Sukuna stared down at you confused “How do you know it’s a boy?”

“I’m his mother,” he watched as you placed your hand over his stilling his rubbing of your stomach, “I knew he was a boy from the day your seed took.”

Sukuna smirked “Is that so? Then let’s see this boy.”

🖤❤️❤️❤️🖤❤️❤️❤️🖤❤️❤️❤️🖤❤️❤️❤️🖤

After an hour of fighting the doctor tending to your birth you gave birth to your lively son, born screaming without needing stimulation to cry form the doctor. Your husband couldn’t help but laugh when he saw his child in his full glory, he was a boy indeed.

The help immediately gave you your son and you cooed at him when he took to your breast, your husband taking blankets from the maids and covered your son also covering you in the process as you struggled a bit to pass what came next. Your son a spitting image of his father, your breathy laugh caught Sukuna’s attention as he came back to your bed side stroking your hair and rubbing your stomach the way the help had been doing.

“What amuses you?” He watched his son slowly close his eyes as you coddled him closer.

“I’m the one who had to carry him for so long, and the ingrate took nothing from me.” You smiled and shook your head before looking up at Sukuna.

Soon the doctor left after clearing you of any possible issues and checking your son. “His name?” You looked at Sukuna and he sighed “Yuji”

The look of adoration in your eyes was something Sukuna would’ve wanted to capture forever if he could express the sentiment. However for now he’d settle for memorizing every detail of today. His wife birthing his first heir, the name she had chosen he permitted.

Maybe just maybe this world wasn’t so bad

[washeduphazbin]

Hi, I would like to ask for a smut from Adam x fem Reader, his dear wife is going to pay him a visit at his work and in the end they almost get paid for lute

New Eve (Adam x Fem! Wife! Reader)

-SMUT AHEAD MINORS DNI-

Other warnings: Adam Being Adam

I hope I wrote this ask and understood it correctly! Adam is my guilty pleasure. I love men who are dumb as rocks and who are going to be absolutely leashed by even stronger women.

REQUESTS OPEN

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

There's a saying that all good things come in threes, Lilith, Eve, and you. Adam's final wife, who physically couldn't be swayed by Lucifer because Adam had met you in Heaven. When you passed through the pearly gates, you were greeted by none other than the first human himself. You were in awe for about two seconds until you quickly gathered the first man was a complete and utter dickhead. He seemed to falter when you walked past him to greet an angel named Lute, Adam's second in command. She tensed a little as you introduced yourself, ignoring Adam's protests that dubbed you a Queen Mega Bitch.

All this to say, it took about three months before Lute caught Adam sticking his tongue down your throat with you latched onto him like a koala. You made a distressed sound at being caught while listening to Adam laugh above you. You distinctly heard him call your mouth as good as a vagina while pressing a kiss to your hairline. "Adam!" You hissed, pulling on the horns of his mask as he let out a defiant sound, "Inappropriate."

"Ugh yeah, that's kind of my thing, sugar tits."

"You need to not make it your thing, or this thing doesn't happen." You drew your line in the metaphorical sand before marching out of the room, faintly hearing Lute argue about Adam's behavior behind you.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Two years later, you were Adam's new 'Eve' in heaven with two golden rings to prove the love that formed between the two of you...somehow. Did the both of you fight constantly? Yes. Did you want to wring his neck every time he opened the gaping hole he called a mouth? Also Yes. But did you love him...unfortunately. Even though he had a laundry list of bad habits, a vulgar mouth, and gross hobbies, he had his moments. He was protective, fiercely so, and despite his fuck boy personality, he only had his sights set on you. Lute often asked you what you saw in Adam, and you'd reluctantly sigh and give a tired grin, "He makes me laugh. Plus, with proper motivation, he's putty in my hand." Lute made a sound of understanding, nodding her head,

"Ah, yes. Use your feminine wiles to control those weaker than you, even if they may be physically stronger. We must use what we are given as women. Well, you must. I'm very strong without using that to my advantage."

"Yes, exactly," You snickered as Lute stopped outside Adam's office. "Which is exactly why Sera put me in charge of convincing Adam to meet with The Morningstar's daughter." You groaned, rubbing the bridge of your nose, "I'll see you back here later, then?"

"Yes, ma'am." Lute bowed, "I wish you luck...you'll need it. He's in one of his moods." before taking off into the sky and down the hall. You reached up with a stretch of your arms, fluffing up your wings to look extra pretty before knocking on Adam's door,

"Adam." You hummed, knocking on the grand marble door once before opening it. You leaned against the entranceway, wings brushing against the floor, as his head shot up.

"Sugartits!"

"Not my name!" You dodged Adam's hug with a flurry of your wings; he grinned, shoving the door closed with his hip. "Adam," you said in warning as he used his angelic magic to fly towards you and trap you within his arms.

"and what would you prefer I call you? My Bitch? Wifey?" He mused, peppering sloppy kisses against your cheek and down your neck. "We could go with Queen or Goddess, preferably." You shot back, dragging Adam down to sit in his chair; you hummed gently, removing his mask from his face. He leaned back, kicking his legs up on the desk as you slid down into his chest, straddling his hips. You hummed, running your fingers through his brown hair, and he melted into your touch, "My name works, too."

"I guess we can settle on Queen. Does that make me your King?" Adam preened as you scratched under his chin,

"Without a doubt...but we must talk about the Young Morningstar."

"Who?" He made a faux confused face which you raised an eyebrow back at in response, "Ugh, Lucifer's cunt daughter. What about her?"

"She's been begging for a meeting. I suggest you meet with her." Your lips began to trail down his neck, nipping at his skin as his body flushed.

"But that's so much work, sugar." He groaned, running his clawed hands through your hair, "Can't I just say fuck off back to hell we're gonna exterminate all of you regardless."

"Sera wants you to at least meet with her one time; she's giving you a lot of trust to handle this on your own."

"And if I do what you ask, what'll you give me?" He mused, eyes sparkling. You huffed, hitting him with the back of your wing, and he laughed, "Come on, you gotta sweeten the deal for me, mama."

"You're such a bastard." You huffed, moving to pull your hair out of your face. He moved his legs to the ground, and you could slide between his knees. "Robe off unless you want dirty," you commanded as Adam fumbled out of it quickly.

"I love you~" He leaned back with a sly grin, hand reaching up to move your head closer to his lip. Your fingers spread across his thighs, and you huffed softly, looking up at him.

"I love you more. If I do this for you, you promise to meet with young Lady Morningstar?"

"You can't just fuck me because you love me?"

"Bite me." You sneered, but there wasn't any malice in your voice as he stood up, picking you up off the ground and pressing your back against his desk.

"Oh, it would be my pleasure. I can't say your robes will survive, though I might need to get you some new ones." Adam popped the buttons on your robe, allowing your body to be laid bare for his eyes. He watched your breathing hitch as his long claw trailed down your neck to your chest. "Fuck I love these puppies, you know that?" Adam grinned, grabbing fistfuls of your breasts, squeezing and kneading to his heart's content. Your husband was like an oversized golden retriever. When he sees something he likes, he obsesses over it like a man deranged. His favorite playthings of yours were your tits and ass. "Any meetings?"

"None. I'm yours for the rest of the day. You can mark me how you'd like; I'm yours, my husband. Well, until you meet with the Princess."

"Fuckkkkk yeah, baby, come 'ere." Adam dove between your breasts, and he felt you suck in air through your teeth. He began to bite and suck on the supple flesh of your chest; you keened, arching into his mouth, hands tangling in his brown hair. You could tell from the way his teeth would graze against your nipples and your flesh he was doing everything in his power to leave marks on the skin.

"Adam...ngh." You panted, feeling his hand move down from your breast to slide down your stomach and between your legs. "Shit," You squeaked, feeling him tease your clit with his thumb and forefinger with a dopey grin on his face.

"There's my favorite girl," He flicked your nub skillfully; for being a massive asshole, this prick sure knew where to find your clit. One finger slid between your folds, and you tossed your head against the cold marble desk. "Damn, only one finger has you acting up? I must not be treating you good enough," He purred as another finger entered you, stretching you out to be big enough for, 'the first ever man god created.' Adam watched with delight as your wings spread out and trembled, glowing with a soft golden glow. "That's it, you're being such a good girl for me. Are you ready?"

"Yes." You panted, "Adam, please."

"God, you beg so nicely, you little slut," His hand reached up to grip your throat, causing you to let out a desperate whine, hips bucking into his fingers. "Beg Harder," He demanded, moving your hand to palm him through his trousers, stiff and aching. "Look at how hard you make me. How desperate. I need you to worship your god."

"Yes, sir." You purred, "You're my God, Adam. I need you, I'd worship for your love, your touch, your dick." You dragged your hand up your chest, playing with the swell of your own breast, "Don't you want to make me happy, baby?"

"More than anything." Adam's eyes lit up in elation, "Stay with me. Don't go to Lucifer. You're mine." He snarled, hands around your throat, "Say it."

"I'm with you. Only you. Forever Adam." His entire body seemed to relax when you said that, pressing gentle kisses to your cheek and lips. "I love you, you annoying Dickweed."

"Love you more, Sugartits." He grinned cheekily before lowering himself to you with a hiss-like laugh. "Tight as ever, and that's why I love you,"

"If you keep talking nonsense while you're literally inside me, I'll cut off your dick,"

"Sounds kinky."

"Adam."

"Fine, Fine, you're so vanilla." He mused, albeit his tone was much softer, fonder than his earlier teasing. His hands grabbed under your knees and pressed you close with a snap of his hips. You both let out a moan, yours higher pitched and needier, bucking your hips, searching for more friction than he was currently providing. You always savored the way he was able to fill you up, he wasn't the longest but god was he thick filling you in all the right ways. Every time his hips snapped into you, you could feel just how deep he kissed your cervix. "Yeah, you like that?" He panted, "Like how deep I'm getting? From the way you're dripping, you're practically soaking through my table. Your vag is like a vice, babe, so tight for this big cock."

"Hm. Your words always know how to turn me o-ng-ff." You moaned out this end at a particularly sharp thrust of his hips. "Fuck you," You panted as he grinned down at you,

"Good news, wifey, that's exactly what we're doing-"

"Sir!" You let out a scream as Lute slammed the door of his office open, you climbed against Adam's body like an embarrassed Nun. He groaned, still inside you but having the decency to cover you with his wings.

"What do you need, Lute? I'm a little busy getting it on with my sexy ass wife." Adam complained, motioning to the top of your head, to which you made an embarrassed sound of mortification. "Can this be rescheduled or-"

"The Princess of Hell is here, Sir. She just showed up-"

"Are you for real telling me that the bitch Princess of Hell is seriously cucking me right now?!"

"...Yes."

"(Y/n) If I killed her for interrupting us, would you be pissed?"

"Beyond Adam."

"Fuck."

[roboticchibitan]

Today I'm going to talk about a form of radical resistance that anyone, no matter their situation, can engage in: cultivating hope.

Are you filled with hopelessness and despair at the state of the world? I have some good news and some bad news.

The bad news is you've fallen for a tool of the status quo. Despair freezes us. It keeps us from imagining and working towards a better world. Despair is easy, because it means we have no reason to take action to make things better. Capitalism? Our oppressors? They want you hopeless for a reason. Because you're easier to control that way.

The good news is! There's a lot of very real reasons for hope. However, hope is something you have to cultivate. It takes work. It is a radical act. It is looking at the status quo and going "actually, no. I refuse."

Maybe you can't risk losing your job to unionize your workplace. Or maybe you're an oppressed minority who can't risk going to protests because our criminal justice system is racist. But cultivating hope in yourself is just as radical an act of resistance as those two things. It is another form of imagining and working towards a better world.

It's not as flashy as starting a union or going to a protest, true. Maybe it feels selfish, like you're only helping yourself. But that's not true. It's a lot harder to help others when you, yourself, are frozen by despair. By working on yourself, you are making it easier for you to help others, in whatever form that takes for you.

For me, since I started my hopepunk practice I have been more able to engage in activism, even if I no longer post about it. Before calls to action froze me. I was so overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of our problems that I was unable to address any of them.

Since I've started cultivating hope in myself, I've unfrozen enough that I was able to choose the causes that matter to me and put my energy there. I engage in more charitable donations and political actions now than I did before. I am happier and also helping others more than I did before.

Cultivating hope in yourself is hard at first. You feel defeated before you even start. But you start putting work in and you find a little hope. And then a little more. And a little more. And then, suddenly. It snowballs and you're doing better than you have in years, and hope comes easier to you now.

If you don't know where to start, go follow @hopepunk-humanity @hope-for-the-planet @afeelgoodblog and @reasonsforhope or follow the hopepunk tag

There's also things like the good news network, who have a daily email they send out with a handful of positive news stories. Some of them I find kinda dumb and shallow like "lost dog returned after 3 years" type stories. But there's also a lot about scientific advancments in green energy, medical care, etc that I find helpful for cultivating hope. Did you know about the CRISPR gene editing tool that's being used to cure incurable illnesses? I didn't! And now I do! afeelgoodblog also runs a substack "best news of last week" newsletter every Monday that I find has stories with more substance, tho it is US focused.

Despair isn't helping anyone, especially not you. Engage in a radical act and start cultivating hope in yourself. You deserve to leave that despair behind, and in the process, you are directly going against the powers that have decided we are easier to control if we are miserable.

[augustinewrites]

“oh, you poor thing…” you murmur, stroking megumi’s hair. he’d been caught in the rain during the walk home yesterday, and had come down with a bit of a cold. the seven year old is curled up next to you on the couch, his head resting in your lap.

you glare at satoru when he scoffs from his end of the couch, the tip of his nose rosy and dripping with snot. “i was caught in the rain too, you know.”

“take some nyquil.”

you don’t even bother to spare his suffering a glance.

“can i have hot chocolate?” the little brat asks, his request followed by a weak cough. “my throat hurts.”

it’s almost ten in the evening, and the kid’s already brushed his teeth. there’s no way you’d say yes—

“of course! i’ll make some for your sister too.”

satoru’s mouth falls open - because he can’t breathe through his nose and because he’s shocked. “can i have some too?”

“i’ll make you tea with lemon and ginger,” you reply, carefully adjusting megumi on the couch as you get up. you even steal his blanket, draping it over the kid’s curled up form.

megumi peeks one eye open as soon as you leave, and satoru swears the smirk that follows is directed at him.

people have told him that kids are supposed to be gifts. but later - when he’s watching a lame documentary and choking down some bitter lemon ginger tea as megumi is spoiled with sips of chocolately heaven - he thinks they must mean gifts from hell.

_____

your lips are brushing over satoru’s collarbone when he wonders if he’d locked the bedroom door.

but then you bite and all his concerns go out the window.

your breath is hot against his skin, picking up when his hands grip your waist. chests rising and falling, the two of you love in sync. slow, deep kisses are exchanged in time with gentle grinds—

“i’m hungry.”

it makes satoru startle, banging his head against the headboard as you sit up, stuttering as you both turn to face the doorway.

“megumi,” you gasp. “how long have you been standing there?”

the blush colouring his cheeks is answer enough.

“i’ll make you something to eat,” you offer, leaving your boyfriend with a very unfortunate situation as you climb off his lap, shooting an apologetic look over your shoulder as you herd megumi out of the room.

satoru swears the kid shoots him a smug grin over his shoulder.

this, he thinks glumly as he heads to the bathroom to try and calm himself down. this is why he needs to stop doing nice things.

_____

exhausted can’t even begin to describe the way satoru feels after a long day of bugging nanami and exorcising curses.

he’s practically dragging his body through the apartment towards the bedroom, wanting nothing more than to strip out of his uniform and fall into bed next to you.

but he can’t, because the first thing he sees when he opens the bedroom door is megumi hogging his side of the bed.

you press your index finger to your lips as soon as satoru opens his mouth to protest. “tsumiki’s at a sleepover,” you explain.

“so? i’ll carry him back to his room—”

you make a noise if protest, waving his hands away as you whisper, “it’s his first night here without her.”

hands on his hips, satoru examines the very little free space left on the bed. “so that means you’d let me sleep on the couch?”

he doesn’t like sleeping alone. hasn’t liked it ever since you’d moved in and he’d decided he liked waking to the warmth of your body next to his.

“well, you could sleep in megumi’s bed.”

“or you could wake him up,” he counters loudly on purpose, earning a shush and a glare from you in answer.

“this is a good thing,” you insist once you’ve ensured the kid’s still asleep. “it means he trusts us!”

“but i’m tired,” he whines, even stamping his foot a little for emphasis. “i wanna cuddle with you.”

“fine,” you relent with a little sigh. “but you have to wake him.”

gleefully, he goes to shake the kid awake. he’s about to do it, but all it takes is one look at the peaceful look settled over that little face. over the year he’d gotten to know megumi, he’s only ever worn a scowl, or a look of general boredom. so to see him like this, finally settled into the household…

it’s enough to make the sorcerer smile, even as he sets up the makeshift bed of blankets on the bedroom floor.

_____

“sharing is caring,” satoru proposes the next afternoon at the dinner table. it’s just him and megumi right now, as you’d just left to visit shoko. “so you can cuddle with her on the couch, but the bedroom is all me, got it?”

megumi frowns, staring at the list (can he even read yet? gojo has no idea) “but what about movie night?”

“fine, but only for a little bit. after that she’s all mine.”

he takes the kids shrug as agreement and moves on.

“knocking,” he starts with the utmost seriousness. “is a very important thing to do when any door is closed. and next time tsumiki is out, you’re the one sleeping on the floor.”

(they both know that’s not going to happen, but it doesn’t hurt to try.)

once the terms of their deal are finalized, they shake on it.

“so we’ve come to an understanding, good. because i’d rather have you as my bro than my foe,” he says, dragging the edge of his thumbnail across his throat for emphasis.

megumi rolls his eyes before sauntering off to his bedroom, and satoru sighs, letting his forehead hit the tabletop with a dull thud.

he’d fought off suitors vying for your attention before, but never one as tough to beat as this one.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

You Came, You Called || LN4

Summary: when strangers follow you from the nightclub there’s only one person you want to call.

Warnings: angst, threatening behaviour, fluff

WC: 2.4K

Lando stirred at the sound of his phone ringing on the bedside table. There were few people who could get past the ‘do not disturb’ setting that came into effect after midnight. With bleary eyes he reached for the phone and cringed at the bright light in his face but the sight of your name chased away his exhaustion.

It had been 162 days since you last spoke to him. It had been 162 days since he had ruined everything. He regretted his foolishness for every single one of those days and his stomach flipped at the thought of hearing your voice.

“Hey,” he answered, a flinch following as his voice cracked from lack of use while he slept. He quickly cleared it before trying again. “Hey.”

“Hey, baby.”

Alarm bells rang in his head and he sat up straight. Had you called the wrong man? That thought soured in his mouth.

“I’m on my way home.”

It wasn’t your unsteady voice he was focused on but the male voices that sounded far too close for his liking. “Aw, don’t call your boyfriend. We only want to talk.”

“Where are you?” Lando was already pulling on a pair of sweatpants and grabbing the first shirt he came across. “Are you okay?”

“No,” you whispered with a tremble in your tone. “I miss you.”

“Tell me where you are, sweetheart. I’m on my way.”

“Come on, gorgeous, it’s just a bit of fun,” a man called out and Lando saw red when he heard you choke back a sob. He knew the sound because he had been the reason for it before, and it had haunted him ever since. “He doesn’t have to know.”

“I’m heading towards Chocolat Boutique, please hurry.”

“I’m coming, sweetheart. I’m on my way.” Lando was already racing down to the garage and jumping in his McLaren. The engine roared loudly in the underground space before he tore out onto the street. “Keep talking to me, okay?”

The small store would have closed hours ago, but it was down the street from Jimmyz nightclub which was where you probably had been. He didn’t even know you were in town, and he didn’t have a right to know your whereabouts anymore.

“I’m scared, Lan.” The pain echoed around him as his phone connected to the car and played in surround sound.

“I know you are, but it’s going to be okay. I’m almost there, I promise.” He didn’t care about speeding tickets or running red lights. He flew through the narrow streets as he was forced to listen to the cat calls.

“I didn’t know who to call,” you admitted as you tried to walk faster but your heels hindered any escape. The three men were getting closer but they were in no hurry as they prowled both sides of the street to herd you along.

“You can always call me, love,” Lando swore, taking the last turn fast enough for the tires to squeal in protest. “And I’ll always answer.”

He found you on the footpath clutching your phone to your ear, hand cupped over the microphone as you spoke to him. Fear had widened your eyes and your normal stature cowered under the gaze of the men behind you.

Twisting the steering wheel, Lando skidded to a halt beside you and threw the door open. You had seen him angry before, when races don’t go his way, but this was beyond anger. Waves of rage rolled off him as you leapt into his arms, your trembling form finding itself molding perfectly back into his body. Two puzzle pieces slotting back together.

“I got you, sweetheart,” he soothed as he cradled the back of your head and glared over your shoulder. “You’re safe now.”

He might not have been the most imposing figure but you knew Lando was strong and regularly had boxing lessons for training. You had no doubt that if anything escalated he would use every lesson to protect you, but the cowards shrank back into the shadows of the shops.

“Let’s get you home.”

You were in such a state of shock that you didn’t see Lando wince at his mistake. You hadn’t called his apartment home for 162 days, not since you packed your bags and left. But right now you longed for that place where you had felt so safe and secure, tangled in his sheets and he curled his body around yours.

He opened the passenger door and reluctantly stepped out of your embrace to guide you into the seat. The doors locked as he started the engine and you exhaled a heavy breath of relief when the street was left behind.

Tearing your eyes away from the tinted window, you looked at Lando properly and saw his disheveled appearance. “I’m sorry for waking you.”

“I’m not.” He took his eyes off the road for a second before reaching over to take your hand. “You’re freezing.”

He couldn’t tell if you were shaking because you were cold or if it was the adrenaline leading to shock. Dropping your hand he reached behind your seat to grab a hoodie that was always left in the car. The material was soft and smelled like him as you pulled on, inhaling deeply at the familiarity of the scent.

“I miss stealing these,” you whispered as you buried your cold hands into the front pocket.

Lando chuckled at the admission. He missed seeing his hoodies on you and asking if you knew where his favourite ones were. You would lie and he would smile at how terrible the attempt was.

“You can steal that one, if you want. I have too many now that they don’t mysteriously disappear.”

The car pulled into the garage and you found the space where your car used to park now filled with a pretty Lamborghini. A new sense of sadness hit that of course everything could be upgraded and replaced. “You can take me to my hotel. I wasn’t thinking clearly, you probably have company.”

His lips turned down at the thought and he shook his head. Lando understood why you would assume that, after all it was the reason you had left. What he had thought was harmless flirting had wrought destruction on his relationship with you. He knew he should’ve deleted the messages as soon as they were received but a moment of weakness when he was away from you led him to reply.

He betrayed your trust and he had regretted it ever since.

“There isn’t anyone,” he said as he parked. “There isn’t anyone ever, just to be clear.”

You mulled over his words as you stepped out of the car and accepted his hand, trading the warmth of the pocket for his palm. You kept hearing the insinuation echo with each step in the empty garage.

“Did you go out alone tonight?”

You shook your head. “Ana felt sick so she left. I should have gone with her.”

“So why did you stay?”

You weren’t ready to admit there was a slight hope you would see him so you just shrugged. It was Saturday night in Monaco and Jimmyz was the place to be - especially for a handsome, single man like Lando. You hadn’t wanted it to be this way though.

“I stopped going there after…a couple of months ago,” he said as he unlocked his door.

“Why? You loved that place.”

“I loved going with you,” he corrected. “I got to hold you and dance, show you off to everyone. When I went back, everyone just wanted to use me.”

You could imagine the women fawning over him and the men trying to be his next best friend. Sex or money, it was all they wanted from him.

“I’m sorry, Lan.”

“Lan,” he chuckled, following the light down the hall to his bedroom. The blanket was tossed aside and his charging cord was half hanging from the wall, a testament to how quickly he had left his bed to rescue you. “No one else calls me that anymore. It’s always Lando Norris, full name, so fucking weird. It’s Lando Norris getting out of his car. Oh, look, it’s Lando Norris scratching his nose.”

You laughed at his impersonation and sat at the edge of the bed. It was such an innocent thing but it brought back a million memories made in this room and he was seeing them all too as he stood frozen.

“Are you going to stand there all night, Lando Norris?”

His eyes traced your lips that mocked him before he shook his head of the thought that entered his head. Going to his wardrobe, he grabbed a loose shirt and tossed it to you before turning his back. “That’ll be more comfortable to sleep in than your dress.”

You laughed to yourself as he turned away, despite intimately knowing every inch of your body, until you found his eyes in the reflection of the mirror. His tortured eyes dared you to tell him to look away, but they begged you all the same. Maybe you were feeling grateful for the rescue, or maybe it was just an old habit that you held his gaze as you rose to your feet and let your dress fall to the floor with his hoodie.

His eyes darkened and he groaned, but the sound woke him up from his stupor. “I’ll go sleep on the couch.”

“Wait.” You took a step towards him as he stepped towards the door. “Please stay.”

He heard the fragility in your tone and the residual fear from the evening creeping back. He knew it was a bad idea but he couldn’t find the words to voice them as he gripped the door handle.

You watched his fingers release their tight hold before he nodded. “But please put the shirt on,” he pleaded as you tested his self restraint.

It was summer and the air still held warmth despite the early hour, but you dutifully pulled it over your head and climbed into the sheets. Lando waited until you were completely covered before he walked around to his side of the bed and curled up at the edge.

You both lay in silence, back to back, watching the shadows on the wall as the minutes ticked away. Lando was like a heat seeking missile and he was fighting an internal battle to keep from rolling over and curling his body around yours. You had always loved physical contact, it was comforting to be wrapped in his arms.

You knew he was awake and uncomfortable.

He knew you were awake and uncomfortable.

A few more minutes passed and you could no longer pretend he didn’t exist, or that you didn’t want the comfort he could give. “Lan?”

“Yeah?” His response was instant and you felt the bed shift as he rolled onto his back.

“Stop being weird and just cuddle me so we can get some sleep.”

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

You giggled and reached blindly for him. “I am already.”

Your hand found his arm and he shimmied across the space until it curled around your waist. His knees tucked behind yours and his breath warmed your neck as he whispered, “I’m sorry. For everything. I know you hate me, but-”

“I don’t,” you interjected, twisting your neck to look at him in the dim light. “I did, I really did. But I don’t anymore.”

“You should. I hurt you so bad. I deserve your hate.”

You swallowed down the lump in your throat and looked away as you admitted aloud what you had known for a while. “I can’t hate you, Lan, not when I still love you.”

Lando froze still behind you and you weren’t sure if he was even breathing. “You still love me?” Disbelief, wonder, hope - it was so saturated in that question.

“I thought something terrible was going to happen to me tonight so I called you in case it was the last time I could. I didn’t want ‘I hate you’ to be my last words to you.”

Lando’s gut clenched at the thought and his arms tightened around you, crushing your back to his chest. “I wish you called sooner, I would come day or night to get you.”

“I know.”

“I don’t think you do,” he said sadly. “Every weekend for the past five months I wonder if you are out drinking and clubbing. I know it’s not my place, and I lost all right to know where you are, but I need to know you safe, sweetheart. It kills me to think that there might be someone else looking out for you, because that was my job. It should still be my job, to protect you, because I love you too. I never stopped loving you.”

You squirmed in his arms but they were too tight to move. “Lan, I need you to let go of me,” you murmured.

“I’ve tried, but I can’t. I can’t give up on us.”

“Lan.”

His breath was shaky but he released his tight grip on you, despite his desire to keep you close. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said any of that.”

He started to pull away but you finally had room to move and followed. “Lando! Come back, you muppet. I just wanted to see your face without breaking my neck,” you laughed.

He paused, a little from appearing between his brows. “Let go…oh…” His eyes lit up even in the dark room and he bundled you back into his arms. “Muppet is my word.”

You nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck and inhaled his scent. “I stole it too, like your hoodies.”

“I was a muppet so you can have it this time.” He pulled back so he could find your eyes. “Where does this leave us?”

“You broke my trust.” You felt him deflate at the words. “But when I needed you, you came.”

“You called.”

Your chest felt light with emotion those two words brought and you combed your fingers into his dark curls. “I don’t know where this leaves us but what I do know is that I really want you to kiss me.”

His eyes widened in surprise. “Now? Are you sure? It might just be the adrena-”

“Shut up and kiss me, Lan.”

He didn’t need to be told a third time.

[thenewgothictwice]

March 28. Taleed El-Sabawi, JD, PhD writes: "Jordan should be trending right now. Protests have been blocking traffic; men have flooded the streets in such large numbers that even the repressive military force in Jordan can’t beat them into submission (something they frequently do); Protesters are chanting for Jordan to open its borders so they can march to Al-Aqsa. The political unrest in Jordan has been at a boiling point for years now.

High rates of unemployment particularly among young men; significant inflation; high housing costs; low wages; skyrocketing gas prices, electricity, groceries…hardly any industry. Repressive import taxes.

And a monarchy that pockets millions of US government aid in exchange for US military access. The monarchy is now holding on by a thread.

Expect the Jordanian forces to increase their violence against protestors. Expect the U.S. to send in reinforcements in some shape or form—If the monarchy falls, it will not be a U.S. co-opted government that will organically take its place. It will not be an Israel friendly government. Expect the U.S. to meddle as they always have & to do everything they can to keep the monarchy in place.

Even a UN Ceasefire isn’t enough to make Israel ceasefire or the U.S. to call for Israel to ceasefire. The calculus has changed. The people are reminded yet again how the governments of the world have failed them. Expect more of this around the world.

Every time there are protests in Jordan, I call my family in Amman to get a sense of how serious it is, because my grandparents are in Amman. Since October, every time I call they have brushed it off as young men being young men. Skirmishes with the armed guard as usual. But today was different. They spoke about not being able to drive in the streets, of the chaos, of the sheer number of human bodies, of the determination to do something to help Gaza—something has changed. This time, it feels different.

Additional important context: Jordan was created in 1946. When Britain divided up the Arab World into nation states. Before that there was free movement & a greater degree of one-ness. So when Jordanians say they there is no difference between us and the Palestinian people or that we are the same people , it is because the British creation of nation states was a Western government forcing the Arab people into its Western constructs.

[about further protests in Jordan] There are already plans to start again —at Maghreb tomorrow (sunset)—at the Israeli embassy and doing a sit-in again until dawn, interspersed with prayers. Tomorrow will mark day 5 of protests in Amman."

[tonycries]

Why Can't I Keep My Fingers Off You? [Part 2] - G.S. 

Synopsis. “Besides, Toru, just because it worked for you doesn’t mean it’ll work for me.” “Wanna bet?” For Satoru, convincing you to take the aphrodisiac chocolate too wasn’t the hard part - the hard part was being shoved into that bathroom stall, cock throbbing, mind spinning - trying not to beg for mercy. 

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected sex, slight femdom, overstimulation (male), lots of cum, you absolutely ruin Satoru, semi-public sex, subby! Satoru, aphrodisiac sex, multiple rounds, shutting up Gojo Satoru by making him cum in his pants, pet names (darling, my girl), swearing.

Word count. 3.7k

A/N. Can be read as a standalone, but PART 1 HERE.

Bros this was mad hard to write oml. Art by @_3aem on X.

Satoru had everything he needed to absolutely ruin you tonight.

Overpriced Cartier glasses? Check.

Jet-black Hellcat freshened up, ready with a little surprise for you inside? Check.

You, all dolled up and brows furrowed adorably at him? Holy shit, check.

“Toru, if we’ve missed our reservation because you had beef with the neighborhood cat again…”

“He was looking at you wrong! I had to defend your honor!” Dramatic protests falling on deaf ears, Satoru speeds through the darkening city streets, still grumbling under his breath about “cats these days”.

With your fiancé being absolutely swamped with missions recently, you’d been anticipating this night for weeks now.

Little did you know, Satoru had just as much - if not more.

Soon enough, the neon lights of that upscale, new restaurant you’d been absolutely dying to visit recently come into view. 

Okay, it’s time. 

“Y’know…” he begins, glancing at you with that familiar mirthful glint in his eyes. Laughter bubbling to his throat at your knowing stare, he plows on “Remember that one night where I just so happened to come across your special chocolate?”

“You mean swiped from my secret stash?”

“Semantics” he waves off. “But anyway, I was thinking…” he voice trails off mischievously as he swiftly turns to grab the mysterious black bag sitting on the backseat that you’d been eyeing suspiciously ever since you got in the car.

Oh shit, so that’s what he was onto. Eyes widening, “Toru, no.”

He whines, a pout forming on his lips. “C’monnn, no one’s gonna know except me. I want to make this night unforgettable, my girl.”

You raise a brow, “Unforgettable? Toru, your idea of unforgettable will end up with both of us arrested.”  After the madness of last time, you’d ignored his sticky note for a reason!

Letting out an exasperated sigh, you try to justify - probably to yourself just as much as Satoru, “And just because the aphrodisiac worked for you doesn’t mean it’ll work for me.”

He wiggles his eyebrows, twinkling eyes still undeterred. “Wanna bet? I’ll do the dishes for all of next month. We’ll never know till we find out, darling.” 

You narrow your eyes at the hand already snaking its way inside the bag, faded finger marks from last time still searing into your skin. Catching Satoru’s gaze - behind the amusement, something else shines darkly. 

Shit.

Goosebumps erupt down your spine. 

A beat passes. One. Two. Only the revving of the engine filling the tense air. 

“...two months.” 

It’s all Satoru can do to not jump in joy in his seat right now - knowing his girl, you’ll probably take back what you said and immediately bonk him on the head for being so ridiculous. 

“Deal.” he mutters lowly, pulling up to the driveway.

 A flash of hot pink. In the short time it takes the valet to reach your car, Satoru has already split that too-familiar chocolate, holding out the bigger part to you, eyes gleaming with excitement. “I swear this’ll be a night you won’t forget.” he grins, biting into the chocolate. 

God, he was going to be the death of you. 

The decadent flavor washes over your tongue, a slight tingling on your tastebuds. But, it’s still just chocolate, right? You scoff - at least you won’t have to do the dishes for two months.

Now, Satoru knows he won’t have to do the dishes for two months. 

Ah, how heavenly you’d be, splayed out and begging for mercy underneath him. Heels clacking against the polished tile and your hand warm in his as the maître d’hôtel ushers you both inside, dick twitching in anticipation. Shit, was the chocolate working already?

He risks a glance at how you’re faring - nope, still normal. That’s okay, he’ll be driving you crazy in no time.

---

Okay, maybe he won’t be driving you crazy in no time. 

How dare you sit there so gorgeous and unbothered, sipping slowly on your wine while he’s here mind whirling around how he’ll fuck you right here right now on this table without getting arrested for public indecency.

Fuck, it was hitting him hard.

Cock aching, heat rushing to his cheeks, eyes bleary - he sighs in frustration, resigning himself to do the dishes for two months.

Why did he even think of this? Damn his big fucking ego, he should’ve never taken that chocolate again. Maybe if he eats you out just right he could lower it to-

A feathery touch on his thigh. Too light for any sort of friction - just enough to set his skin ablaze. So deft that Satoru thinks he must’ve imagined it.

Until there it is again. Soft caress dancing delicately up his thigh. 

You.

A shiver creeps down his spine, blood rushing straight to his dick. Probably for the first time in his life, Satoru is speechless - maybe because you’ve reached underneath the table, teasingly sliding a heel along the top of his thigh.

“…darling…”

“Hmm?”

He blinks away the haze in his eyes, raising them to meet yours. “Wha-”

Oh. Oh, fuck.

What has he gotten himself into?

Eyes half-lidded, brows furrowed, and looking into his soul with a predatory glint that jolts the great Gojo Satoru right to his very core - and to his throbbing cock. He’d be lucky to make it out alive. Maybe he should just beg for his life right now.

Minutes tick by - or maybe it was seconds - Satoru is clueless. Mind only focused on the heel inching closer and closer, dangerously near to where he needed you the most. A smug smirk curls your pretty lips as his mouth drops into a soft oh.

The air crackles with an unspoken tension - his hips trying to subtly move you towards the erection furiously straining against his pants. He needed it so bad. It’s fucking pathetic, he knows. But he couldn’t give less of a fuck as your sole grazes his aching head. Pressing down. Hard.

“Fuck!”

Stomach flipping - before Satoru could fully process what the fuck was happening - he cums embarrassingly in thick spurts that pool on his pants, soaking right through the fabric, probably smearing on your new heels.

Head spinning, he bites his knuckles hard enough to draw blood, muffling the desperate moans threatening to escape his lips. 

He grinds his hips in shallow, mindless motions in a desperate attempt for more friction.

Instead, he gets the opposite.

“Behave, Toru.” you warn, swiftly resting your heel back on the floor, voice strained with something that makes his sensitive dick quiver animalistically. 

You huff out a chuckle at the almost-inaudible whimper of disappointment that rips from his throat. It’s laughable, really, he was supposed to be the one ruining you. This was so not fucking suave.

Face burning - whether due to the chocolate or embarrassment at the warm patch on his pants, he doesn’t even know - Satoru wishes the Earth would swallow him up whole. Would it be overkill to just teleport outta here?

The only thing that snaps Satoru out of his little reverie is your pretty lips forming into a tut. “Now now, Toru. It’s rude to make a mess at a restaurant. Why don’t we go to the restrooms and get you cleaned up, hm?”

Oh. Shit. 

A firm grip on his arm, his hands desperately covering his crotch. 

He was not going to make it out of this alive. 

Honestly, it wasn’t hard to bribe the waitress into letting you follow into the restroom after your fiancé - and put up an Out of Order sign promptly afterward. The actual hard part was trying not to rip off his clothes and give into your desires before you two even made it there. But you couldn’t let anyone else see him like that, of course. 

You were sure that if you had Satoru’s powers then you would’ve hollow purpled everyone here and taken him already.

You were going to ruin him.

Mind running a mile a minute, Satoru wouldn’t even be surprised if he’d just teleported to the restroom. If he was in a better state of mind he might’ve even admired the decor.

“My girl.” he breathes out, voice ragged. It’s all that is said before your lips are on his. 

It was like a fever dream - the bruising urgency of your lips, your aching pussy, and the heat of the stall as your quickened breaths mingle in a desperate dance. Your tongue intertwining with his. 

Manicured nails ripping his shirt open, you don’t have half the mind to register the designer buttons hitting the floor.

Satoru’s lips hazily chase yours as you pull away delicate strings of spit snapping just as quickly as your sanity. 

Your mouth waters at Satoru’s chest in all its chiseled glory, creamy skin peeking out from whatever remnants of the shirt were clinging to his sculpted shoulders. You wanted to ruin him.

“You dirtied my heels, Toru.” you frown, mockingly innocent. A choked-up gasp leaves his throat as you snake a hand down to firmly grip the erection straining against Satoru’s wet pants. Unmoving. “What shall we do about that, hmm?” 

“Ah! Please, my girl.”

“Please what? Use your words, Toru.”

“Please. Wanna cum so bad.”

Satoru learned the hard way that he could never turn back after uttering those words. 

Though, he already had an inkling once you immediately slam him against the stall door, fumbling with his belt, nails digging hard into his prominent v-line. “If you say so, Toru. Better not stop till you’re shooting blanks.”

The only thing that registers in his mind is the deadbolt echoing throughout the empty bathroom and his still-rock hard cock throbbing in your hands. 

“Ah- hah! Fuck.” low groans leave his throat at each jerky movement down his length. 

Head thrown back, pants bunched underneath his heavy balls, your tits pressing against his body as your hands urgently move along his veined length - up, up, up. 

Your thumb harshly teases his flushed head, spreading the precum from his leaking tip lewdly. “Oh God.”

His knees buckle, hands slamming against the top of the stall hard enough to make the walls tremble, desperately trying to keep himself from collapsing. Mind spinning, he doesn’t even know if he’s on planet Earth anymore.

“Toru~ Gonna let me join in on the fun?” your dangerous purr sends his cock twitching, breath hot against his ear.

Your cunt quivers, slick soaking your panties and trailing down your legs at the pornographic moans spilling from his lips as you fucked his thick cock with your fist. You wanted him so badly it was driving you insane.

Straddling a muscled thigh, your clothed core meets the fabric of his pants. It was already ruined, so what was another stain?

You grind your hips down on him, hard. Humping him like an animal in heat. 

Your slick seeping into the fabric of his leg. Harsh texture stimulating your needy cunt so painfully good. Swollen folds parting, mewls of pleasure leave your swollen lips as your clit catches on the rough fabric of his overly expensive pants. Over and over. 

Distantly, you register a strong hand tugging roughly on the thin fabric of your panties - easily ripping it and letting it fall to god-knows-where. 

Your hand doesn’t let up either, milking Satoru’s cock mercilessly the way you’d been dying to ever since you stepped foot into his restaurant. Your head spins, hips moving so animalistically on Satoru’s thigh.

A hand reaches down to sensually massage his heavy balls, squeezing and pressing hard circles - just the way you knew he liked it. 

“Oh, my girl. Always so good t’me- Ah! Hngh, gonna-” 

Satoru doesn’t get to finish his sentence before he’s pumping hot ropes of seed that decorate your pretty hands. Hips fucking up into you desperately.

You’re not far behind, juices squirting all over that expensive fabric, pooling on the tiled ground with a drip! drip! drip! that bounces off the walls of the restroom.

You two were so fucking loud. 

But right now, you wouldn’t even mind if anyone walked in to see your Satoru so debauched - as long as they see you fucking the soul out of him as well. 

It wasn’t enough.

“You said you wanted to cum, didn’t you, Toru?”

A shiver runs down his spine - all the way to his dick. “What? W-wait, darling. Fuck- Oh!” the strained words tumble out of Satoru’s kiss-bitten lips as you push down his soaked pants, kneeling to leave a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down to his twitching, thick base. 

“I won’t be merciful, Toru.”

Ah, you could do this forever.

Nipping teasingly till you’re satisfied with the bite marks decorating his pelvis, you pool the saliva in your mouth, spitting a long stream into his furiously flushed head.

Once. Twice. Mixing enticingly with his precum, trailing down his length. “Ah! Hngh- oh, darling. So sensitive-” he bucks his hips into you, moaning loudly.

“You can do it f’me, Toru.” you murmur darkly against his twitching tip. Satoru keens as you take him until his fat head hits the back of your throat, pulsing around your warm mouth.

Your fiancé’s choking on his breaths more than you as you hollow your mouth, bobbing up and down at a ruthless pace. Gagging, you shove his throbbing dick all the way in with a desperation that eclipses the need for air, till you’re nose-deep in those tufts of snowy hair. 

“Oh, darling. Jus’ like that. Losing m’mind.” he whines.

Your pussy quivers at Satoru’s slightly salty taste, making you moan around his rock-hard length. Drool and precum dribble down the corner of your mouth, mixing with the mascara running down your cheeks. It was debauched. It was messy. And it was exactly how you wanted him. 

Tonguing Satoru’s sensitive slit in a delicate dance, you feel drunk off his sinful moans as you suck on him desperately. Breathless. Craving for more. 

Looking up to see a delicate streak of tears falling down his pretty face at the overstimulation, your cunt clenches around nothing. Fuck, you could just devour him.

“Cum, Toru.”

It was too much for him- 

Tight balls twitching sensitively, he cums onto your ready tongue. Fucked out whimpers leave his lips, tears clinging to his long, white lashes as he paints your pretty mouth with his thick, white seed.

Ah, he was always your favorite taste. Tasted so good - so good that you could cum untouched. 

And you do.

Eyes rolling to the back of your head and pussy clamping down on nothing as you reach your high.

You milk his cock ruthlessly, relishing in the thick cum flowing down your throat. But it still wasn’t enough.

Removing yourself off his dick with a lewd pop! you reach a hand to grab Satoru’s flushed throat, nails placed right over his thundering pulse. With a single tug, the great Gojo Satoru is on his knees before you, in the bathroom of some fancy restaurant. 

Walls still quivering, you stand over him, connecting your sweaty forehead - and your mouth - with his. 

Kiss-bitten and smeared with your lipstick, Satoru’s lips are soft - or maybe that’s the cum coating yours. A part of you delights in his half-lidded, fucked out gaze as your eyes bore into his - does he even know what he’s doing anymore? 

Hot seed flowing down his throat, Satoru can do nothing else but kneel there and take it. He feels lightheaded, all the blood in his brain rushing to his cock as you suck on his tongue. This was driving him insane. You were insane.

And he fucking loved it.

“You d-drive me insane, my girl.” his words muffled by your hand still around his throat. His voice cracks with sensitivity in a way he would definitely be embarrassed about if he were in the right mind. 

Yet, how could he ever be with the slow, feral smile that spread across your beautiful face?

Leaning down, you whisper lowly against his ear. “I’m the same, Toru.” 

Maybe it’s your words, and the hot breath that sends shivers down his spine. Or maybe it’s the way you lift your dress so alluringly - cunt dripping on full display, slick trailing down your legs. 

All Satoru knows is, he’s surging forwards. He’s got your front pressed against the cold wall, cock twitching to life and bullying its way through your swollen folds. 

Mindlessly, a strong hand smacks against the stall as Satoru tries to keep himself steady. Too drunk off of you - off of your whimpers of his name, and the feeling of your plush walls clamping down on his throbbing erection, struggling to accommodate his size despite being so dripping wet. 

He doesn’t give a fuck. 

“Hngh- S’tight. Oh, fuck! S-sucking my cock back hah- in s-so needily” 

Ramming in and out of your hole at a merciless cadence, Satoru’s balls smack your clit so animalistically. You two feel like a pair of fucking animals. 

Shudders of overstimulation and pleasure wrack his body. Chest heaving, his blown-out eyes roll to the back of his head at the rapid, desperate thrusts inside your warm core. 

Pulling out all the way to slam back in mercilessly, Satoru could pass out at the sight of your ass jiggling as it arches to meet the rhythm of his hips. 

“God, m’girl. Gonna- gonna cum ah! Fill this pussy the way you want-” he groans raspily into the heady air of the stall, exhausted cock shooting wispy strings of cum that fill you up - some missing as he pumps into you, spilling out to paint your swollen folds white.

Before he knows it, a low hiss leaves his throat as you remove yourself off of his furiously pulsing cock - only to shove him seated on the commode. 

You take a split-second to admire your gorgeous fiancé - face flushed as much as the prettily leaking tip of his throbbing cock, eyes dazed and miles away, curtained by his sweaty white locks. A delicate trail of drool made its way down the corner of his ruby, kiss-bitten lips. Exactly how you wanted him.

What a fucking picture. Maybe you should take that chocolate more often…

“Toru~ Remember what I said? You’re not tapping out, are you?” you hum, eyes narrowing at the way his erection twitches so ferally at your dangerous tone. 

“Ah- don’t know- Can’t, please.”

You loom dangerously close, a hand reaching out to mockingly push his cheeks together, drool pooling at your fingertips. “I’ve told you before, Toru. Use your words. Please what?”

“M-mercy, please!” pathetic pleas muffled by your hand.

“Mercy?”

“Mercy!”

“No mercy for you, my darling Toru.”

The great Gojo Satoru, begging for mercy, will face none at your hands. 

You straddle his muscled legs, shivering with sensitivity. “Ah! Hah- Oh god. Oh god oh god oh god-” he whines nonstop as his quivering tip teases your swollen, messy folds. In one, fluid motion, you sheath him fully in your dripping cunt.

Ah, you feel so full. 

You relish in the way he twitches instinctively inside you. Steadying yourself using Satoru’s shoulders, you drag your cunt along his length, his prominent veins grazing that one spot inside you. Pulling out till his thick head teases your entrance, you drop down - inch by inch - over and over.

Satoru thinks he could cry right now - or maybe he already is. He doesn’t know, nor does he care - not when you’re so beautiful and fucked out, nails digging into his shoulders and heart eyes palpable in your gaze as you ride his sensitive cock into insanity.

He can’t stop the ragged moans that escape his swollen lips, head thrown back and hips bucking up exhaustedly into you to meet your every bounce. A hand is at his throat, pulling your face to his, “Don’t run away, Toru~”

He felt so raw. More a feral beast than a man as he watches his abused cock get swallowed up over and over by your wet pussy.

If he thought his dick was broken after this time then it’s really unsalvageable now.

He wanted to run away. He wanted more. He wanted you to keep looking at him with that fucking predatory gaze that made a carnal part of him twitch so good. He wanted to cum.

“I wan’- I wanna cum, please, my girl.” Satoru gasps out, teary eyes blown and looking up at you so delicately.

“Cum?”

“Yes.”

“Cum, Toru.”

Maybe it was the glint of fondness in your eyes, maybe it was the piercing of teeth as you bit down hard into the crook of his neck. Or maybe it was the way your snug cunt clamped down on him so sinfully as you cum as around him. But Satoru is immediately bucking up into your hips - reaching his climax, if you can even call it that. Poor, exhausted cock cumming dry. “Ah- Cumming- M’cumming hgnh-”

Satoru doesn’t even know if he feels his orgasm, just waves of pleasure that overwhelm him as he rides it out on your cunt. 

Ah, he thinks if heaven was a person then it would be you. 

Maybe he’s died already.

“Toru? Open your eyes, darling.”

Slowly opening the eyes that he didn’t even realize he had furiously scrunched closed, Satoru slowly blinks his vision back.

An angel?

“No, Toru, your fiancé.” you huff out a laugh. Oh shit, he said that out loud? 

Head still reeling from, well, everything - the great Gojo Satoru can do nothing else but sit there, exhausted and fucked out of his mind as you slowly remove yourself off his twitching cock. He’s never felt so vulnerable - so ruined.

Ah, someone remind him to never let you have a bite of that chocolate every again. 

A low hiss leaves him, along with a few tears that later he swears were never there. 

As you tenderly clean both yourselves up in the humid stall, Satoru thinks he’s never been handled with so much care. Ah, he loves your gentle hands. He loves you.

“I love you too, Toru.” you whisper into the intimate silence. Oh, shit, he said that out loud again?

Your beautiful laugh, “Yes, you did, Toru.” Throwing away the used tissues, you grin “Y’know they’ve probably brought out our food by now.”

Absent-mindedly, “Mhm?”

“I was thinking I wanted chocolate for dessert.”

A/N. Oh Satoru, you poor, innocent fool…

Also this turned out longer than expected. Reblogs so so appreciated!

Plagiarism not authorized.

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