#On a fucking phone and not behind a pay

[delcat177]

Continuing to slide Firefox and DuckDuckGo across the table to people. Brave is affiliated with Google, incidentally, and also tries really hard to sell bitcoin. I never thought changing browsers could be an ecological statement, yet here we are.

[mr-nicegirl]

extortion is when they give the socially anxious/neurotic/mentally ills/ disableds the choice between a crowded asf fuck food court to maneuver around to get a drink where the line are long asf and it's lunch time (questionable) and everybody coughing bc sick??? vapernation?? asthma? post viral cough??? who GIVE A SHIT (rene descartes) and also no one gaf if they shoulder check u on the regularrr no apologies no nothing

or go by the restrooms and buy a beverage in the vending machine $4 USD (3.75 if yr being stupid bc what is 25 cents bitch my cherry pepsi 4 dollars twice*** and it set of my ibs so bad i shitted my guts out (free of charge ig))

[glassamphibians]

the fact that u can pay for shit with your phone is so scary

[ndjams]

father ruining shit for me once again. i been on medicaid for the last almost 5 years but just recently got cut off. i have top surgery in THREE DAYS and my plan was to not get insurance until after bc im having it at a not for profit hospital i was gonna get on an out of pocket payment plan w them then file to have the medical debt erased but my mother in law ran into my father yesterday and said he has had me on his private insurance (for 5 years ?? and ive never used it ????) and one of the few times i ever said anything to him was in 2021 (twenty twenty ONE) i told him dude take me off ur health insurance its fucking w my medicaid (i couldnt get T for like 6 months) and he was like okay when open enrollment starts or whatever ill take u off. what the fuck im so unbelievably pissed. MIL also said he seemed like he was on meth or very drunk so. they met at aa so as u can imagine this was very jarring for her jtfo.

[zoomzooml]

Fuck Spotify, chill with MP3/4 instead <3

[sasquatchandleatherjacket]

.

[eclecticopposition]

we don't want to get up and go to work tomorrow. we do not want to go to work

[waywardsculs-a2]

GUESS WHO JUST SAVED MONEY BIG TIME BABYYYYY

[aro-aizawa]

i had thought i put apple behind me.... but alas my old nemesis.....

[sttoru]

pls pls pls 🥹 older bf! gojo fucking the attitude out of his gf

 𝝑𝑒 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. satoru picks you up after your lecture to spend quality time with you, only to realise you got an attitude that needs some fixing.

tags. dom older bf!gojo x female reader. smut, pwp but also with plot. age gap (reader early 20’s, satoru early 30’s). rough. hints of degradation. p in v -> unprotected. standing doggy. semi-public. spanking. hair pulling. name calling. creampīe. nicknames ‘princess, baby’. wc: 3.2k

“mind telling me who that was, baby?” satoru asks while he fixes his sunglasses. he pushes his hair back a little, walking beside you through campus. you had just finished your study session with a boy who’s in your statistics class. your lovely boyfriend offered to pick you up and take you back home after that.

though, despite the kind gesture, you’re still visibly stressed after revising the material. your mind is occupied with all sorts of stuff you need to know before your exam on thursday.

“just a classmate,” you respond curtly, not even looking at satoru. you’re speeding ahead of him, wanting to rush home already. you nibble on your bottom lip and your brows are furrowed due to the distress, “why do you care?”

that sentence came out harsher than you had expected it to. you don’t mean to be bitchy, but you’re under too much stress at the moment. your body reacts before you can withstand it.

satoru is silent for a few seconds. he’s surprised by the tone of voice you used. he keeps on following you, however, not letting your little comment ruin the conversation. he’s there to help you, not to make you even more upset.

which is why he tries to lighten the mood.

“oh?” satoru chuckles, his dimples showing. he easily keeps up with you, his long legs carrying him around quite fast. the white haired man pushes a strand of your hair behind your ear ever so gently, “did someone upset my little princess today?”

you don’t answer him. you’re focused on your phone, hurriedly texting your friend back while speeding past all the other students. you don’t even notice how the girls are gawking at your man—whispering about how handsome he is and who he might be.

satoru doesn’t pay them any mind. his sole goal is to gain your attention back. he frowns after his question is met with silence. the clicking of his dress shoes increases as he tries to get you to stop and face him.

“c’mon,” your boyfriend sighs and stands in front of you, stopping you to an abrupt halt. he holds your wrist tenderly yet firmly, letting you know that he wants to properly communicate with you, “y’ can’t ignore me.”

you yank your hand back, your irritated attitude visible in your actions. you look up at satoru, not caring about what he thinks or wants at the moment. you just want to go home and relax. everything is overstimulating you.

“i can and i will,” you huff before stepping aside to continue your journey out of the university’s terrain. your boyfriend’s frown only deepens. you’re not the only one who’s currently getting agitated. you push past a group of students who stood in your way, “let’s just go home.”

satoru’s eyes narrow. he doesn’t get upset fast—he rarely feels any kind of anger—but right now he can feel something itching inside of his chest. he’s tried not to let the jealousy get the best of him at first, but now with all the other emotions coming into play, it’s nearly impossible to hold himself back.

satoru considers himself a fairly mature man. he’s always been one, yet when it comes to you he can’t help but feel like he doesn’t have any control over his emotions. his body and mind act on their own.

“aht aht. not so fast, little lady.”

you suddenly feel yourself being dragged to the side. satoru’s grip around your arm isn’t harsh, but it sure is enough to make you stumble along with him. you click your teeth in slight annoyance after the initial shock settles in. you know there’s no fighting it; you don’t want others to witness your little squabble.

“hey, where are we going?” you ask, a slight whine leaving your throat. you simply want to go lay in your bed and avoid everything and everyone else. your eyes are focused on the back of satoru’s head as he guides you along. he doesn’t bother to face nor answer you.

you sigh and simply allow yourself to be dragged away. if you’re going to get a scolding, you don’t mind. you’re just going to hear him out and nod along so you can go back home faster.

you raise an eyebrow when satoru arrives at the bathroom on the second floor. “what the—” you’re confused as to what your boyfriend is trying to achieve. you quickly look around to see if anyone has seen you.

no one seems to be close. this part of the building has always been empty around this time frame anyway.

you’re pulled into the men’s bathroom after satoru made sure that the coast was clear. he gently pushes you into an empty stall and locks the door. “satoru, what’s up with you?” you sigh as you stumble back against the bathroom wall. it’s a hypocritical comment considering your own nasty attitude.

you try to push him aside, only for your boyfriend to force your arms around his neck, pulling you flush against him. your eyes lock into his and that’s when you notice how . . dark they are. the usual playful look is nowhere to be found.

“i’m just thinkin’ that y’r attitude needs some fixing, hm?” satoru whispers. a ghost of a smirk appears on his face—it’s a twisted one. wicked, with the thoughts of what he’ll do to punish you for your actions. he rarely has that expression when he’s with you.

he tips your chin up with quite some force, “i can help with that.”

everything else happens at a blink of an eye. one of satoru’s large hands slithers up your back to tangle in your hair and yank it back, exposing the column of your throat for his hickeys to take shape on. his other hand swiftly makes work of your pants and undergarments.

his jaw is clenched—the usual hint of gentle love in his eyes is replaced by lust fuelled by jealousy and frustration. satoru is not playing around either. instead of taking his time like he usually does when it comes to intimacy, he’s quick to discard both your clothing.

“fuckin’ tease,” the white-haired man mutters under his breath, panting with desire. he zips down his pants and frees his big cock from his boxers. “always pushing my buttons. isn’t that right, baby?”

satoru lets out a breathy, mocking chuckle. he fists the shaft slowly while his blue eyes roam over your body caged against him and the wall, “but i guess tha’s part of the reason why i love you—hah.”

you’re basically in shock at the sudden switch. your jaw is slack and your eyes are wide, but there’s an undeniable feeling in your chest that tells you you’re loving this change. you can’t deny the fact that you’re turned on. extremely turned on.

“‘toru, i don’t think it’s smart to do this here,” you murmur in a small voice. you’re trying to have some dignity, even now, when your panties are soaked and the scent of your obvious arousal is driving your man crazy.

“don’t care,” satoru shakes his head with a smug grin. his long fingers hook around the waistband of your underwear before flimsily tugging them down to your ankles. his eyes darken the second he sees the webs of sticky, translucent slick clinging from your panties to your puffy folds.

he grunts, his cock twitching painfully in his hand. he’s thinking of simply jerking off to the sight of you in front of him, but he decided otherwise. satoru smacks your clit with his fat tip, “should’ve thought about that before catchin’ an attitude with me.”

suddenly, he turns you around so you’re facing the wall. your nails dig into the flat surface of the tiles, catching onto nothing. you’re hoping that no one will walk into the bathroom. last thing you need is everyone knowing that you were getting your back blown out by your boyfriend on campus.

not that satoru would mind those rumors. it’d only fuel his (already) huge ego.

“oh, yeah— shit. you need this ‘s much as i do,” satoru groans as sinks his cock into your pussy, agonisingly slow, inch by inch. you shudder and hold in your moans as your velvety walls make part for him.

his hands spread your pert asscheeks, smacking the full globes before kneading them to soothe the pain. he continues in a low, dangerous voice, “you wouldn’t be so stuck up if y’ didn’t need this fuckin’ dick to shut you up.”

satoru doesn’t stop pushing in until his heavy balls are resting snugly against your bottom, warming his sack full of cum that’s aching to be released in your dripping cunt.

“ngh, ‘toru,” you bite your lip and try not to orgasm just from the feeling of being full— so full of cock that it makes you see stars, “just like that.”

the white-haired man responds with a satisfied grunt, sweat forming on his forehead from how hot and wet it is inside of you.

“oh, there she is,” satoru coos once he hears your whiny voice, that sweet voice he cherishes and loves. it isn’t cold nor avoidant anymore like before and that’s really all he wanted to acquire. he licks a stripe from the tip of your ear to the lobe, voice husky, “there’s the girlfriend i know. moan some more f’ me.”

you shiver as satoru’s lips connect with the back of your neck. after wetting the skin with his saliva, he bites. not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to leave a mark. you clamp around his dick in response and he curses under his breath.

“please, fuck me,” you breathe. you need more stimulation, need him to absolutely ruin you. the shallow and slow thrusts he’s giving are nothing but torturous.

satoru grins and rests his chin on top of your shoulder, large hands rubbing around your hips and lower abdomen, teasing your clit every now and then to get you even more pent up.

“fuck you?” he tilts his head, as if contemplating. he clicks his tongue and gives your ass a firm slap that nearly sends you over the edge. “hah, you should be grateful for what i’m givin’ you.”

but satoru’s weak for you. even if he’s trying to be the ‘mean’ and ‘cold’ dominant guy. his cock is aching to plunge in and out of your wet hole, to see you come undone and feel your juices coat his balls and thighs.

“fine. i’ll fuck you,” satoru relents with a roll of his eyes, acting like he isn’t desperate for you too. he grips your hips in a bruising manner and bites your shoulder, “—fuck you like the brat you are.”

your hands save your face from making contact with the wall as your body suddenly jostles back and forth in a speed you can’t even process.

“satoru!” you nearly scream his name out of pure surprise. the pleasure comes crashing down in waves, your pussy uncontrollably spasming around his girthy cock.

satoru grumbles something incoherent as he pistons his hips, ramming in your sloppy cunt while his eyes are fixated on your bouncing ass. white locks of hair stick to his forehead as he splits you open on his dick.

“so pretty,” the older man sighs. he turns your head sideways so you can look him in the eyes while he fucks you silly. he caresses your cheek gently, a contrast to the mocking grin on his lips and the rough thrusts against your ass, “too bad y’ got such a potty mouth on you.”

satoru pushes his index and middle finger between your lips to muffle your noises, “…but don’t worry, i’ll fix that for you. gladly.”

you eagerly suck on them between quick gasps of air, saliva trickling down his hand. your boyfriend redoubles his efforts, the fat tip of his dick hitting that special spot deep inside you.

his free hand reaches down to circle your clit. the double stimulation sends you into a state of pure bliss. your pupils are dilated as you struggle to find satoru’s gaze, head lolling back and forth with each powerful stroke.

perhaps this really was all you needed to help destress and forget all about your responsibilities. it feels good to not think about anything at all— your head empty except for the feeling of your cunt being filled.

satoru’s cock twitches inside of you with the urge to release a load in your womb. “give me it, please,” your voice is muffled as you plead with him. your hand sneaks downwards, trying to find his balls, “w-want your cum.”

your fingers toy with his sack once you find it. his pre-cum and your own juices now coat your skin as well, your hand enclosing around his balls, massaging them. it’s like you’re trying to coax his potent semen out of them and that alone makes satoru throw his head back in ecstasy.

“little cumslut. . .” satoru growls, brows furrowing as he tries not to shoot his cum inside of your greedy cunt right that second. the hand that was keeping you quiet quickly snatches your wrist and pins it against the bathroom wall.

“are you that desperate to get filled? yeah?” your boyfriend huffs, not stopping to catch his breath at all. his hips pound faster against your ass with renewed passion.

your lips are parted and they move, but not a single answer comes out of your mouth. you’re unable to think or talk because of the pleasure.

satoru takes that as a yes. the erotic sight of you being so lost in sin is enough to fuel his desire to fuck you harder. his hips never falter as he scoffs at your pathetic self, “tch, so addicted to my cock y’ can’t even answer me.”

you shake your head and search for your words. however, you fail, and all that you’re capable of communicating is what you need, “fuuuuck, yes i am—‘toru, need your cock ‘n cum— more.”

satoru lets go of your wrist to grab your jaw. he forces your head back again before he captures your lips in a bruising kiss. his tongue plunders inside your mouth, exploring every inch.

he pulls back to gasp for air and releases your jaw with a slight shove to grab your hips again. “more? hah,” the white-haired man lets out a haughty chuckle. he gives a particular hard thrust against your butt, tip kissing your cervix painfully yet deliciously, “y’ think you deserve more after that shit you pulled?”

satoru yanks your head back by your hair. the stinging sensation makes your scalp itchy, but it also increases your pleasure. he lowers his lips to your ear, his voice dangerously low, “nah, you gotta make this work.”

you could. you can make it work and that’s the truth. he could fuck you with just his tip and you’d be able to cum a couple times in a row.

jolts of pleasure run down your spine as satoru drives into you harder, the force of his thrusts rocking your entire body. you’re seeing stars and the words roll off your tongue, “please, mhh, almost there!”

satoru groans. he can feel the delicious fluttering of your cunt around his cock, the telltale signs of an orgasm building. he has half a mind to pull out completely and let you writhe and beg him some more.

he contemplates it for a few seconds. the second your eyes start to roll back, signaling your impending climax, his cock slips out of your pussy. you whine and push your hips back in search for his dick- to fill the void he left.

satoru jerks himself off at the pitiful sight. he rubs his veiny shaft between your slick folds before slapping the tip against your cunt, letting it catch onto your entrance for a few times.

“begging like that isn’t going to get you anywhere. y’ can do better,” your boyfriend encourages in a sultry tone. one of his hands rest on your tummy, fingers splaying over your clothed skin. another filthy smack of his tip against your slit makes you shiver, “come on.”

you bite your lip out of frustration. you arch your back each time the fat head of his cock catches onto your gaping hole, hoping to slip it in, but you can't. you tilt your head back and lock eyes with satoru close up behind you.

“please let me cum, 'toru. i'll be good, i promise,” you beg with a lewd pleading expression. one that make satoru's balls tighten with the urge to cum as well.

with a low groan, satoru snaps his hips forward, burying his dick inside of you once more, “there ya go. good girl, knew y’ had it in you.”

the praise and familiar feeling of his dick stretching you open is enough to push you over the edge. you nearly black out as your cunt spasms around him, your juices gushing out to coat his length and balls.

satoru grits his teeth once he feels your tight cunt clench viciously around his throbbing cock. your orgasm has a domino effect on your lover, causing him to hastily chase his own release. “shit! take it, princess. take it all inside this greedy fuckin' cunt,” he hisses and grinds his pelvis against the fat of your ass.

satoru buries himself to the hilt before his cock jerks and pulses, emptying his balls deep inside of you. his fingers dig into the meat of your butt, holding you in place as he grinds against you, making sure every last drop of his seed is nestled into your waiting womb.

“there y’ go, mhm—taking my load so deep,” your lover sighs and lowers his head, resting against your back. he hugs you tightly to his chest while you both catch your breath. he rides out his orgasm slowly, still grinding against you while he leaves lazy kisses on your nape.

a minute passes before you've regained your composure, somewhat. you smile as satoru kisses your temple lovingly, praising you for taking him so well. the switch back to his usual gentleman personality is much needed after such an intense moment.

“thank you, babe. i needed that,” you giggle as you rest back against his chest. thick, pearly globs of cum escape your pussy, dripping around his cock and onto your thighs, but neither of you could care less. the clean up is a problem for later.

satoru chuckles back at you as he leaves another loving kiss against your cheek. “i knew you did,” he murmurs and pets your head, “my poor girl has been working so hard on her assignments, hm? poor, poor baby.”

you playfully roll your eyes at the overexaggerated concern in your lover's voice, however you appreciate it.

satoru doesn't bother to pull out. first things first; he needs to get you all comfortable again and give you the aftercare you deserve. his hands massage your hips as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, acting all lovey-dovey like he hasn't just shown you a more dominant side of him.

“how ‘bout we go home and order some food? we can cuddle and watch a movie together, ‘kay? i’ll take care of you, princess.”

[exuberantoctopus]

Omg just got a new phone, switching away from apple, and I can now do the cool rainbow thing with the post icon! Very soothing amidst the stress that is switching phones for the first time in a decade.

[spurbleu]

holy fuck sorry just thought of something and I had to write it before it flew away.

you work at a men’s department store. unusual, next to the large mannequins and suit sets- dressed in heels and tight skirts with a measuring tape to tie it together in a centimeter marked bow.

but the pay is nice, and for the most part you’re a service for gentleman. heavy wallets. wandering eyes, but hands that stay in the pockets you alter.

it’s summer, a slow season for cotton suit jackets. but on your evening shift, you get an appointment notification. he’s polite over the phone, if not a little curt. normal.

the first thing you register is his size. tank of an individual. swings his shoulders when he walks due to their weight. a height that slouches his neck. wide arms.

the second is his suit is extremely worn.

tattered, ripped seams, thinning fabric. criticism tears it to bits when he reveals the event is a wedding. you send him a gentle look from behind your lashes.

“are you…sure you don’t want to buy a new suit?”

he scoffs, but doesn’t respond. you sigh.

“at least look at some of the options.”

and then you’re measuring him, and bless your soul it’s hard to keep yourself professional. hands following the thick ropes of muscle to get his wing span, around his arms to get his shoulder. realizing when you kneel in front of him to get his thighs, just how fucking large he is.

and then the bastard adjusts his pants.

hands pulling at the trouser waist band, thick fingers in the belt loops. and horrifically, just as you look up, you catch the imprint of his fat cock settling between his legs.

swells behind the fly zipper. you feel light headed when he lets go, and it bounces before disappearing. teased. you swallow thickly.

the corner of his mouth twitches.

“what do you think, sweet’eart. need a different size?”

[reignpage]

Doctor's Orders

Summary: in which you can now finally get the fucking from your husband, Nanami, you've been missing out on because of a stupid injury Warnings: smut, fluffy, a little angsty, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, cunnilingus, cumplay, unfortunately has a little daddy kink, breeding kink to the max, pussy slapping, dumbification, praise, dirty talk, a little degradation, cum eating, some swearing, very loveydovey - sickeningly so, emotional near the end, not proofread Word Count: 3.1k

“Thank you, Doctor.

You hang up the phone, grinning ear to ear and practically vibrating with excitement. With haste, you run to your husband’s office, the door swinging and slamming. He doesn’t flinch nor look up from the stack of papers on his desk. If you didn't know him so well, you might have found that discouraging, a sign he's too busy for you. But your Kento could never possibly be too busy for his darling wife. 

“Sweetheart,” he begins, a little tired, you can tell, “before you start, I hope I won’t need to remind you once more that I will not let you anywhere near my cock until you’ve fully recovered.”

Slithering behind him, you wrap your arms around his shoulders like you’ve been doing every day and every night since your accident, hoping to make him change his mind. Kento smells clean; he always does. But that cleanliness, that natural scent of a man so disciplined, controlled, and patient, drives you insane. Perhaps that’s why, when you next speak, there’s a hint of crazy in your voice. “It’s great then, Kenny baby, that I’ve been given a clean bill of health, isn’t it?”

His pen clatters. 

Kento gulps. “You know how I feel about lying, darling.”

Your lips skim the shell of his ear, blowing on the sensitive spot there to watch him shiver and grip your wrists with firm hands.

“I wouldn’t lie to you, Ken. Not about this. Call him yourself if you don’t believe me.”

And that’s how you find yourself sprawled on his desk, those boring sheets of paper scattered all over the floor. You’re giggling, head thrown back, when he rips your panties off, baring you to the cold air and his desperately observant eyes.

“Oh, God, you’re soaked.” Thumbing your clit just to watch it twitch, he marvels at the swollen lips of your sloppy cunt as if he’s seeing it for the first time. He’s got your legs spread, pushed far and wide to their limits so he can look at you — really look at you. “You're sure he told you you're all clear, yes?"

"Healthy as a horse, Kenny!"

He groans. The promise of all that the go-ahead brings is making his knees weak. "I’ve missed this. Her. You. Ah, fuck, I can’t wait anymore. Forgive me, my love.”

That’s all the warning you get before his mouth descends upon you. Immediately, loud slurping resounds. Your husband is feral, moaning and groaning at your scent, your taste, and your warmth. Everything overwhelms him, and he can’t seem to focus his sight because when you meet his eyes through his fogged glasses, they’re half-lidded and glossy. 

“Tastes so good, darling. I love the way you taste. So sweet. My sweet wife. So pretty for me.”

He’s mumbling, muttering, musing about anything and everything he’s seeing and feeling, and his narration sends jolts of lightning through your spine. Working two thick fingers inside your pussy, he attempts to soothe your pained whimpering with an especially eager suck of your clit. You whine even more, hands flying and pulling at his hair. 

“It’s alright, s-sweetheart. Kento’s got you. He’s sorry, so very sorry. B-but you need to be stretched out thoroughly, remember? It’s been too long so be good for me and take deep breaths, alright? There you go.”

You’re writhing on his desk, sending paperweights tumbling off the mahogany and onto the floor. Neither of you pay any mind to the thumping. “K-ken, more, stretch me out more, please! Want to take your cock soon. Need to.”

Fitting a third finger in, you tug at his hair harder, biting your lip to hold back the moan threatening to leave. Every time he scissors his fingers in, pushing your gummy walls to their limits, he curls those fingers against that gooey spot inside you. Always taking care of you even before his own needs. That very sentiment forces you over the edge, body tensing up, crying out his name. 

“Oh, I’ve missed that beautiful face you make when you cum. You’re gorgeous. So gorgeous. That’s it, sweetheart, ride my tongue, good girl. Hmm.”

Kento laps up every wave of cream you grace his mouth, muttering expressions of gratitude as he gulps all the drops he can, lips and chin soaked and shiny, and it still isn’t enough. “Do you think you have one more in you, darling? I-I don’t think I had my fill.”

Dazed, you can barely hear the pleadings he makes. He taps your cheek, spreading your wetness on your skin to wake you. Much is still left to be done, and he won't let you get in the way of your pleasures. You gasp. 

“Ah, I’m sorry, love. Oh, how terrible of me. I’m making a mess of my wife. Here, let me clean you up,” he says right before his tongue licks up the remnants of your juices. He groans and then laughs. “D-do you see what you’ve done to me? I told you I was fine, that I could push my needs away, but I'm starting to think I was lying. I think they might've gotten the best of me, actually.”

When he makes a move to sit back into his leather chair and continue tasting you, you grab his face and keep his focus on your own. “Ken, you’re shaking. Are you okay?”

He slumps over you, bent at an awkward angle, but he doesn’t seem to care. All sticky and sweaty, he suckles one breast through your —his— shirt and flicks the other nipple with his fingers, eyes fluttering shut at the melodic sounds of your moans. 

“Yes. Yes, sorry. I just — I can’t, ha fuck— S-sorry, I’m a little overwhelmed. Would you hate me if I was selfish? If I just filled you up right away? I feel as if I might die if I don’t feel you around me soon, my love. Can I? Please. I’ll try to be gentle, I promise.”

Before you’ve even made the first nod, he’s fisting his cock and sliding his length through your slit, thoroughly coating his length with your wetness. His tip is leaking already, and the pearlescent beads drip down your clit in a tantalising dance. Kento gulps. Hard. 

With his head thrown back, he wallows in the feel of you, reminding himself what he’s been missing and abstaining from, telling himself he doesn’t yet deserve because of what he’s let happen to you in the first place. 

But now you’re fine. Now you’re laid out for him like the most splendid feasts, and his morals seem to have disappeared. He’ll repent later. 

Hurried and somewhat clumsy, his erratic movements almost make you laugh, and they would have if you weren't just as needy as he is.

“How’s your ribs, love? Any discomfort?” He lifts your shirt up, partly to see if there’s still any bruising and partly to see your breasts bounce when he finally thrusts into you. At the shake of your head, he smiles, shaky and fleeting, before his brows furrow. “You know our safe word, don’t you, honey? If, at any point, I’m hurting you, please say something, alright?”

Then, he’s inside you in one unrelenting thrust. 

“Oh, God.” He grunts, fingers digging into your hips. “Oh, God, sweetheart. Y-you feel so -ngh- g-good.”

All you can do is moan his name on repeat as he pounds you without reservation. Deafening squelches, creaking wood, slapping skin — all those sounds make you dizzy, stealing your senses. You’re grabbing his biceps for purchase, and the hard muscles flex under your grip. “Ken! Yes, fuck! I missed this soooooo much.”

“Me too, h-honey. It’s been so —ha, d-don’t clamp down on me like that— so long. My memory wasn’t cutting it anymore. Neither was my fist. Oh, that’s n-not so gentlemanly of me, is it?”

He throws his sweater off, overstimulated by the scratchy material which stuck to his skin from the clamminess, revealing the sharp contours of his torso and a light dusting of blonde hair on his chest. Abs burning with each ragged thrust of his leaking cock, he pushes through the exhaustion his out-of-practice body’s experiencing. 

Craning your neck, you urge, “K-kiss. I want a kiss, Ken.”

Those plush lips are on yours faster than you can process. You groan into each other’s mouths. Anything more than pecks had been forbidden by him lest they tempted either of you to go further before you were ready. It was killing you both. He needed your kisses like air, and yet he couldn’t even get his morning boosts, as he called it, before he went off to work; his coworkers were suffering under his short fuse. 

“Can you taste yourself, sweetheart? Hmm? Can you —oh, you’re so t-tight— t-taste how sweet you are?”

Shaking your head, you admit, “I just taste you, Ken.”

He shuts his eyes tight, pulling back abruptly and fisting the base of his throbbing cock. “T-that’s bad of you, darling. Very bad. You’re gonna make your husband cum too early. Can’t have that, can we? N-no, you come first. Always. Ha, I didn’t mean to make a pun. S-sorry.”

There are so many positions he wants to do, so many different ways to make you see stars, to make you fall apart in his arms so he can rebuild you back up again, yet he feels there isn’t enough time. It’ll never be enough time. Not even infinity could satiate his need for you but he sure as hell will keep trying. All these thoughts rush through his mind, rendering him stupid, he thinks. Too stupid to keep track of what he’s saying anymore, at least.

You tease, “Dad jokes come so easily to you, don’t they? Oh, you’d be such a good dadd—AH! Ken! Fuck!”

Kento rams his cock all the way back in, your clit tickled by the hairs at his base. He’s reaching every nook and cranny, massaging your pleats with his massive girth, stretching you to your limits and beyond. “Don’t do that. Don’t tease me like that. If you do, I -ngh- might j-just fuck a baby into you and become a real daddy. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? You’ll get all big and swollen. I’ll have to tie y-your shoes for you, soothe the —oh, are you close, honey? You’re fucking down onto me like you are— w-what was I saying? Oh, yes. Papa Ken will soothe the aches on your feet and fuck you g-gently when your -hah- hormones get the best of you, won't he?”

His fingers splay out on your stomach, pressing down hard. You tighten impossibly more, and you swear you can feel his cock get bigger as he feels for his length through your skin. “Yes, Ken! You’ll take such good care of me.”

“That’s right, m-my love. Papa Ken will keep his f-family happy. Safe. What happened to you, to your beautiful, perfect body, will never happen again. Do you hear me? I’ll keep you safe. Kento will keep you and our b-baby safe.”

Your left hand is carried over to his lips. He breathes warmth into your ring and kisses it, all while keeping his eyes on you. "You sure you won't regret saying that? I'm gonna look all ugly and fat—Ow!"

Kento's slapped your clit. Tutting, he warns, "Don't talk about my wife like that. You couldn't p-possibly ever look -ngh!- u-ugly. In fact, I'm certain I won't be able to keep my hands off you."

He cups both breasts, which bounce with the sheer power in his hips as he works that girthy cock inside you. From where you're laid out, you think you see drool slipping out the corner of his mouth. A crazed look shines in those eyes, blocked only by his foggy glasses — though he resents how they get in the way, he resents even more that he wouldn't be able to see you as clearly without them.

"I especially wouldn't be able to keep my hands off these. Have I ever told you that even before we got married, I imagined these full of milk? Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll help you pump. I'll squeeze them out for you. You won't ever have to lift a finger."

Grinning, you clench down hard on his cock. You both moan. "W-when they get too full, will you drink the milk instead, Ken?"

Hips picking up speed, you're being pushed further and further back on the edge, head dangling. He's no longer looking at your face, just where you're both connected, eyes trained on the ring of cream at his base like to look anywhere else would send him cumming before you, and that just won't do.

"Y-you're too cruel on your poor husband, my love. God, you know just what to say to get what you -hah- want, don't you? My b-beautiful little slut. Must have been starving for cum, no? It's alright. Kenny will take care of you, even when you're all -oh fuck, I'm close- m-mean and grumpy because you can't see your toes."

Babbling now, you can't even respond to his provocations. Your brain's fried from the overwhelming pleasure being fucked into you. The vision of him, grey-haired and bigger from putting on dad weight, has your clit throbbing, perfectly stimulated with every harsh grind of his pelvis against yours. He's no longer concerned about your ribs. You're not even sure he remembers that they were bruised before.

"I know, I know. You're very close now, aren't you? That's alright, dear. Just let go. Kento's g-got you. Show him just how much you love him, won't you? M-make him -hngh f-fuck- p-proud, sweetheart."

The tenderness, the adoration, the damn near deification in his voice drives you over the edge, and your pussy pulses around his cock, the thick veins there stimulating your gummy walls. Sudden tightness stealing his breath, he shudders and follows. Almost at the same time, you both orgasm, steamy air suffocating whilst you both gulp air down desperately. Scalding ropes of cum pool inside your squelching pussy, branding you from the inside. "Soooo goood! T-thank you! Fuck, Ken, I feel so full." 

Many seconds pass while you calm down from your high, vision blurry from the tears. A quietness, welcoming and homely, settles in his office. You’re growing aware of the mess you’ve made and the fact that neither of you have even begun to think about dinner even as the sun sets but you don’t move, much too content to absorb that deep satisfaction you’ve been seeking this entire time. 

Fat drops of wetness fall on your skin. It startles you. “Oh my God! K-ken, you’re crying.”

He shakes his head when you attempt to get up. 

“I’m -hah- alright, love.” Still rocking his cock into you, he keeps your cum, mixed up and making a sticky, gloopy mess, inside as much as he can. You’re plugged up nice and full, exactly how he wants you. “Just happy you’re alright now. Ha, for a while I thought you might forever be bruised and hurt. Silly, isn’t it?”

Hips stuttering to a slow stop, he nuzzles the palm of your hand, taking a deep inhale to calm himself with your scent. He never shies away from expressing his innermost thoughts and it’s one of the things you love about him. But the sight of him looking so exhausted, both physically and mentally, has your heart clenching. 

"S-seeing you walk with a limp, wincing when you move too fast or in the wrong way, was killing me. God, it was like I felt your pain. Not being able to satisfy you, even when you begged me to make love to you with tears in your eyes, made me feel like such a terrible husband. I vowed never to make you cry, didn't I? What kind of man am I to not live up to my promises? To deprive you of pleasure? — No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be making this all about me.”

Sitting up, you peck him on his lips, wincing a little when his softening cock leaves your pussy. You’re squeezing around nothing, pushing out all that cum, but soon, his hand creeps between your thighs, plugging you up with two fingers. He knows just how much you hate feeling empty. 

With a reassuring smile, you brush his cheek with a thumb and say, “I’m okay, Ken. You got there just in time and helped me recover much faster than I was supposed to. You bathed me for the first couple weeks and fed me every day! You already did so much for me.”

"I'm afraid that was just the bare minimum, love." Smiling now, slightly energised by your voice, he presses a kiss on your forehead, hand tentatively squeezing your ribs. Visible tension leaves his body when you don't flinch.

"No, Kento. Even from the very beginning, you’ve gone above and beyond for me. Even when we were just friends, remember? You've shown me just how much love I deserve. You taught me to never settle for less. I am who I am today because of you. I'm here because of you.”

He whispers, love softening his features until he looks years younger, until he looks like the boy you first fell in love with, "Likewise."

"Good." The kiss you share with him is sweet. You smile into each other. "I don’t want to hear any more negative talk, alright? It’s not good for the baby, after all.”

You see a glint pass through in his eyes; he’s ready to play along. 

“Quite right, my love. But you don’t really think one time will do it, do you?” He’s sucking your neck to hear you moan, rejoicing in your warmth, your softness, and your sweet scent. As good as he is with words, his actions always prove just how much you mean to him. So, as a thank you, he slides his cock, already hardening up, inside your fluttering cunt. “Don’t be silly, darling. We have to go a couple more rounds, at least.”

“Just a couple?” You tease, grabbing the hand he had inside you. Your mixed cum drips down his long digits and he watches you with bated breath draw them in, cheeks hollowing so you can suck on them, making nasty noises that sends his cock throbbing.

Delirious with the captivating sight you've put on, he acquiesces, “F-fine. We'll go all night. As many as it’ll take to satisfy my insatiable wife b-but every orgasm must be accompanied by a name suggestion, doctor's orders.”

You laugh, clinging to him when he carries you out of the office and into your bedroom. "Isn't that a little early?"

"On the contrary, my love, we're behind schedule."

[g-k444]

I come into the car wash for my job interview. I just need this job so that I can get enough money to pay my bills as a Uni student - and when the interviewer takes me behind the car wash and provides me with a sponge, bucket, brush and spray hose and tells me to wash his care to prove my aptitudes, I comply.

Washing, scrubbing, wiping - I do it all and pay no attention to how I let thick white soapy suds over my shirt nor how my interviewer now looks to how my tits swing beneath my neckline as I wipe the bumper, or how my ass stretches my trousers as I bend over to dunk the sponge again.

I'm only thrown off guard when you use the spray hose - a jet of cold water splashing my neck before the cold fluid envelopes my body, shocking me into freezing under the wash of coldness

then i look down. to my soaked shirt, plastered to my body and outlining my skin and dark bra, clearly showing my chest heave up and down with heavy breaths as I ask-"What the hell?!"

"How badly do you want the job?" "Oh yeah, you really want it?" "What, you're willing to beg for this job? Oh, that won't be necessary-" "Prove how much you want it. Get on the bumper and fuck yourself with the brush."

It's got to be a joke. It can't be serious.

I freeze - shocked - and I'm horrified as the interviewer reaches out to grab me, pushing my body against the bumper and bending me over like a convict - grunting into my ear as he says fine, not willing to cooperate, I'll show you how to do what you're told-

His hands rip my trousers down and I let out a cry of protest, though it falls on empty ears, as he clapped his hand against my ass firmly, leaving it stinging before I feel something hard and plastic breach my hole - something shoved up my pussy and making me cry and thrash under his grip, tears clouding my eyes as I fight to get out of this position.

"Won't fuck yourself with the brush, fine, I'll do it for you, you inconsiderate bitch - how's that feel - does it hurt? fucking good - d'you want to be a good little bitch and do it yourself now?"

I nod and babble as I feel you keep hammering the object into my hole, feeling your hands both grip my ass to lift me and place me on the bumper.

"Go on then. fuck yourself with it."

With cries and sniffs I grip the brush that projects from my pussy and pull the handle out of my, before letting out a cry at how pathetic I am to comply with these violent orders, as I plunge myself back down onto the brush - "pleasuring" myself for the interviewer who has sat himself in the front seat of the car to look at me through the windshield.

I lower my head in shame as I bring myself up and down on the brush, humiliated and horrified at what the fuck i'm doing, before looking back through to the interviewer through the windscreen and seeing that he's holding his phone up - recording me sheathing the callous object into my pussy and how I cry whilst I do it.

I try to cover my face - my red, crying, humiliated face - and that only makes the man get out of the car and pull me off of the bumper by my hair, holding it firmly at his hips so that I'm forced onto my knees, before he unbuckles his trousers and shoves his cock into my mouth - using the moisture from my cries to lubricate his cock as I'm forced to blowjob him, crying around his cock whilst he uses my hair to pull my mouth up and down his cock like a fleshlight for his pleasure.

but he doesn't cum down my throat, just before he cums he pulls me off of his cock and pushes me to the side so that he can point his cock and fire his cum over the windshield instead. And then turn to me.

"You're nearly hired. Last step of the interview is to take your shirt off, get some suds on your tits, and use them to wipe my cum from the windshield. Maybe then if you get me hard enough, I'll cum somewhere that won't leave as much of a mess."

[sleepdeprivedfrfr]

obsessedbf!toji who loves when it’s cold outside because he knows you won’t try and push him away for being too clingy because he’s so so so sooo warm.

obsessedbf!toji who loves when you curl up to him or wrap yourself around him at night in the middle of your sleep, he thinks it’s so adorable.

obsessedbf!toji who doesn’t go to bed until you do, even if it means he’ll wake up grumpy the next morning for work.

obsessedbf!toji who complains to you one night about your sleeping schedule, “Why the fuck are you still up?”

“I’m watching asmr.”

“Turn that shit off and c’mere.”

“Shh this is a good part.”

He snatched your phone out of your hands and turned it off, “Toji what the fu-”

“Pay attention to me ma, not the fucking phone.” He whispered in a gruff sleepy voice as he pulled you to his chest and engulfing you completely. You huffed into his chest. "Stop acting like you don't love this," Toji grumbled lowly, you could hear the smirk in his words.

"Your tits are suffocating me Toji. No complaints though."

"Fucking freak."

He couldn't help but smile though after hearing your sweet little giggles.

obsessedbf!toji who picks up extra missions just so that he can spoil you, he literally refuses to let you work and truly believes that he should be the sole provider while you don't lift a finger. Also having you care for him when he comes home exhausted is a plus :3

obsessedbf!toji who lets you do skincare on him when he comes back home, he claims he hates it but he loves how relaxing it is and how much attention you put on him while doing it.

obsessedbf!toji who constantly teases you for watching asmr but slowly starts getting into it once you do it to him.

You were propped up against the pillows on the bed, while Toji walked out of the bathroom. He was moody from being at work all day, only to come home to you already showered, leaving him to have to shower alone. "C'mere baby," you patted your lap signaling for your big grumpy boyfriend to lay in it.

He let out a soft grunt and quickly placed himself into your embrace, his head on your lower stomach and hands resting on your hips while his body between your legs. You began tracing patterns up and down his back with your nails, and up and down his large biceps.

"Fuck that feels good ma." he whispered, causing you to let out a soft giggle.

"You still mad at me you big baby?" Your hands moved up to his scalp.

"Tch, whatever. Jus' keep doin’ what yer doin'." Was all he said while his thumbs lightly brushed back and fourth over your hips. His breathing began to slow and he let out soft snores.

obsessedbf!toji who surprising plans really romantic dates for you two, but as soon as you walk out of the bedroom all dressed up his hands are all over you, making you guys late to whatever reservation he booked.

"Babe we're gonna be late."

"Fuck you look so good mama, I can't help it." He says between kisses. Safe to say y'all were definitely going to be late again, that is if you even left the house.

another toji drabble/oneshot bc y'all loved the last one sm, might do an nsfw ver soon so yuh. Also thank you guys so much for 500 followers, I know im behind on a lot of stories rn so js bear with me pls 😭

also I’m so tired of seeing people canon toji as a bad husband/bf bc like y r we acting like he didn’t take his wife’s name?!? Like sure he may be broke in the show but that’s js bc his ass was gambling all his money away, anyways hope u enjoyed ;3

Likes, comments, and rebloggs appreciated!!

divider creds: @cafekitsune

[ryoflix]

sukuna being the test subject of your lip products | f. reader, s/h prns., crack 'n suggestive (under the cut), estb. rl ؛ ଓ

you don’t ask anymore. you just do.

the moment a new PR package shows up—wrapped in glittery tissue, smelling like candy and capitalism—you’re already rolling up your sleeves and calling, “baby, come here. test dummy time.” sukuna groans from wherever he’s sulking in the apartment (usually the couch, half-asleep with one hand in a bag of chips and the other on his game controller). he pretends not to hear you, but he does. he always does.

“what now?” he drags his feet over. shirtless, pouting, voice gravelly with freshly summoned attitude. “if this is another ‘juicy lip plumper no. 3’ i’m gonna riot.”

you ignore him, your hand snaking around his wrist and pulls him down to your vanity stool like you pay him for this. in a way, you do — you kiss him after, and he’d commit federal crimes for that.

“this one’s called eternal cherry kiss,” you say as you uncap the applicator with a dramatic flourish. “supposed to last through eating and drinking. you’ll be the judge.”

“what the fuck is ‘eternal cherry’ supposed to taste like?”

“eternally cherry, obviously.” you lean in. “now pucker up.”

he rolls his eyes, exhales through his nose like this is such an inconvenience, but he leans in anyway. you swipe the gloss across his mouth in a single fluid motion — crimson and glossy, instantly turning his lips into a billboard ad for ‘kissing season.’

he smacks his lips. frowns.

“feels sticky.”

you pull out your phone and hit record. “and now, we let the wear test begin.”

by 2 p.m., he’s still wearing it. there’s a faint cherry sheen while he raids in world of warcraft, barking orders through his mic with his mouth shimmering like a debutante. his guild doesn’t say anything. they know better.

by 5 p.m., you’ve taken him out for errands, the cashier at the pharmacy doing a double take. sukuna glares at the display of cough drops like it wronged him personally, but he doesn’t wipe it off. not even once.

you hand him a mic for the “after” segment. he’s sitting on the kitchen counter, shirtless again, lips still kissed-stained and glowy.

“so, mr. sukuna,” you say with your best influencer voice. “tell us your final review.”

he glares at the camera as he crosses his arms. the gloss is half-faded, but still there, like a badge of honor.

“it’s obnoxious. it survived a shower. survived battle. survived me eating an entire plate of biryani. and her biting my bottom lip at lunch like a demon in heat.”

you make a peace sign from behind the phone.

“…ten outta ten,” he adds reluctantly. “would wear again. for science. or whatever.”

and in the comments, someone goes, “i want what they have.”

sukuna replies from your account—because of course he has the password—with: “die mad about it.”

but since testing lip products just on the lips is for cowards, you’ve upgraded.

this is science. clinical, methodical, incredibly serious influencer business. and sukuna? well, he’s your canvas. your unwilling, irritable, secretly-over-the-moon canvas. he walks into the room already shirtless—because at this point, he knows—arms crossed over his bare chest, all grumble and menace. “so what’s the experiment today, doc? you gonna write your damn @ on my forehead in pink gloss?”

“don’t tempt me,” you say sweetly, uncapping the new gloss. it’s called kissbomb ultra lacquer, and it smells like peaches. “this one claims to last twelve hours, transfer-proof, fade-resistant, and kink-safe.”

he blinks. “kink-safe?”

“don’t worry about it.” you grab his wrist and guide him to sit on the edge of the bed. “shirt off.”

“already is,” he mutters.

“pants too.”

he raises a brow. “...you testing or tryna get laid?”

“yes.”

you climb into his lap with the confidence of a scientist mid-breakthrough, gloss wand in one hand, determination in the other. you apply it slowly, precisely, like you’re prepping for war.

and then the kisses start.

soft little muahs on the corner of his jaw. one on the bridge of his nose. two on his neck, left and right, where his pulse ticks faster. one on each shoulder, then trailing down the hard curve of his bicep. his arms are crossed still, fists clenched, jaw tight—but his ears? red. his breathing? not as chill as he wants to seem.

you murmur, “don’t flex. you’ll smudge the print.”

“’m not flexing,” he says through gritted teeth. “this is just how i exist.”

you keep going. lips marking his collarbones, his ribs, his stomach. lower. every kiss leaving a little stain in a perfect pink imprint like someone went stamp! stamp! stamp! on your big scary man and turned him into a valentine’s day clearance bin.

“you know,” you say thoughtfully, inspecting your work, “you kinda look like the lesbian flag right now.”

he glares at you. “say that again and i’ll throw you out the window.”

you grin, not even fazed. “oh no. my hot queer ally boyfriend’s covered in lip prints. whatever will i do.”

the whole day, he walks around the apartment looking like a sexy battlefield. every mirror he passes, he pauses—just for a second—checking if they’re still there. (they are. of course they are. you chose a good gloss.)

he’s got one kiss mark on the dip of his spine. two on the inside of his thighs. one perfectly placed behind his ear that makes him twitch every time he catches the scent of peach.

“stop looking at me like that,” he growls at you from across the room, sprawled out on the couch later, sipping water and trying to act normal. “you look like a cat who just knocked over a vase.”

you climb on top of him again. inspect a few faded spots. reapply.

“just touching up my art,” you murmur. “quality control.”

he leans his head back and sighs, but his hands are already settling on your hips. there’s a glint in his eyes that says he’s so pretending to hate this. he’s so full of shit.

and when you post a blurry photo of your masterpiece—captioned “new gloss. 12 hour wear. boyfriend approved 💋”—you wake up the next morning to 4,700 comments and one furious growl from sukuna.

“who the fuck is asking if they can be next?”

you hum, flipping over in bed to kiss him right on the chest. “don’t worry, baby. the gloss may be long-lasting, but you’re the exclusive trial subject.” he grumbles, eyes half-lidded, smug despite himself.

“…damn right i am.”

kiss divider by @uzmacchiato