#begrudging favorites

[flwrkid14]

Tim and Jason — Fighting Side by Side, Complaining All the Way

Tim and Jason don’t like each other. Not really.

Jason says Tim’s too uptight, too obsessed with proving himself. Tim thinks Jason’s a walking disaster, a grenade with the pin half-out. They’d both rather chew glass than admit they care. But they do. Begrudgingly.

It’s the little things. Jason’s the first one to show up when Tim’s in over his head on patrol. He’ll grumble about it the whole time, complain that Tim’s too reckless, but the second anyone else lays a hand on him? They're done for. Tim’s the one who makes sure Jason’s safe after a mission, leaving painkillers and antiseptics where Jason will find them. No note, no explanation. Just a quiet, unspoken understanding.

They argue like it’s a sport. Sharp words, pointed insults. But there’s an undercurrent, something unsaid: No one else gets it. Jason knows what it’s like to die for the mission. To come back different. Tim knows what it’s like to feel invisible in a room full of people who are supposed to be family. Neither of them talks about it, but they don’t have to.

Dick tries too hard to keep the peace. Bruce is emotionally constipated. Damian… well, Damian is Damian. But Tim and Jason? They know each other's damage. They don't sugarcoat it.

Jason can call Tim a “replacement” with venom in his voice, but it’s Jason who pulled him out of the rubble when no one else noticed he was gone. Tim can call Jason an "angry corpse," but he’s the one who stays up researching ways to undo Lazarus Pit madness.

They say they hate each other. But when Tim’s hands are shaking after a bad night, Jason’s the one who wordlessly puts a cup of coffee in front of him. When Jason spirals, Tim’s the one who sits beside him in silence, no questions asked.

They refuse to admit they��re each other’s favorite brother. But they are. And they both despise it. And can’t live without it.

[puppetmaster13u]

 Y’know, I was thinking about like, before the Justice League forms in this au. 

Just slowly rotating Bruce meeting Clark and Diana before they start the league, maybe even help each other out. Need another heavy hitter? Time to call in Clark! Someone mind controls Superman again? Time to call Diana! Need information about some sort of artifact? Diana is there! Want weirdly specific information that no one should know or to get into a place they can’t? Time to call in Bruce! Need a distraction? Boy does Bruce have you covered! Need diplomacy because this alien AI is pissed? Diana pulls on her training as a princess, warrior or not. Need to seem harmless- why, there’s a sunshine alien sweetheart with the same vibes as an overgrown puppy ready to help! 

Honestly it’s a surprise no one has realized they know each other yet, but then again Bruce really embodies being a cryptid and just doesn’t sit still for any potential photos. Sure there are some with Wonder Woman and Superman visible with him hidden in the shadows, but no one outside of Gotham really knows about him. Like I am imagining their friendship being both “two extroverts adopt this introvert” and “we’re coaxing this stray cat with its dozen of kittens over no matter what”

As always, I shall implore you to check out @phoenixcatch7 as this AU is a combo of my cryptid batfam au and theirs, called Possessed Doll

[beevean]

Isaac + Mathias | 7. …to shut them up.

The two Devil Forgemasters could not be any more opposite.

It was not merely their appearances, one being blessed with angelic looks and carrying himself with grace and pride, and the other hiding his face behind his devilish hair and an ugly sneer. No, Mathias had come to not just enjoy, but look forward to Hector taking a break from his duties to keep him company in the vast, treacherous castle that he refused to call his home. The man may be steeped in sin and blasphemy, but no one would be able to tell from his knightly demeanor, the delicate courtesy with which he'd bring Mathias' hand to his lips. Holding Hector's arm made Mathias feel safer than holding a sword - and a sword could not make his insides flutter so pleasantly.

And then there was Isaac.

"How does Hector deal with you?" Mathias sighed, massaging his temples. Isaac despised having to spend more than one second with him, and rest assured, the sentiment was heartily reciprocated: the sooner he left, the sooner he could deal with his headache.

"I don't know. Perhaps, my Lord," the man spat the title like an insult at Mathias' feet, "you are the problem."

"I haven't done anything to you, yet you treat me like I'm not worth of polishing your boots." He had reached his limit. He never expected to befriend the General - he was much more enthusiastic about being a bloodthirsty heathen than Hector, he thrived in being repugnant - but Mathias did nothing to deserve Isaac's relentless scorn and mockery, and it wasn't unfeasable to demand some respect.

Isaac refused to show him any. He jabbed his chest with one of his long fingernails, filed to nearly resemble a claw, leering too close into Mathias' face for his comfort. "I have no sympathies for sniveling, cowardly Christians who sniffle all over their Bibles and paw at their crosses when they see me. And I am supposed to call you my Lord?" Mathias was no happier about the indignity forced upon him by the monster who carried his face, but he had no intention of wasting his breath. "You better find a way to your precious home soon, and get out of our sight."

The response Mathias was about to push died out at that last slip of the tongue.

"Our?"

"Don't you believe that just because Hector is nice to you, you are welcome here," Isaac rolled his eyes in theatrical fashion. "We were ordered to serve you, and Hector is always attempting to impress our Lord..."

But Mathias was no longer listening to his ramblings. Isaac had unwittingly handed him a weapon; and perhaps it was not the wisest strategy, but Mathias ached with the need to put the man in his place.

"Yes, you are quite right. Hector enjoys my company, and I his. He is a wonderful bodyguard and companion."

"He's a whore, that's what--"

"And," Mathias interrupted with a finger held up: he would not fall into Isaac's trap, he could see through him with ease. "Count Dracula is quite careful around me. He is housing me in the most furbished wing of the castle and assigned me his best Generals to protect me. Naturally, it is to prevent anything from happening to me, as it would have repercussions on himself, but the point stands."

Isaac had no answer to that. God was truly merciful. Mathias smiled amiably at the Forgemaster's deepening scowl that all but confirmed his theory.

"Could it be, Isaac, that you feel sidelined by the two men you love?"

"I am not!" Isaac exploded without missing a beat; Mathias was quick to hide his mouth behind his palm. "I am still a Devil Forgemaster and a General and I am far more important to Lord Dracula than you could ever be!"

"Would the Count protect your life at all costs? Are you that valuable to him? He hardly glances at you." No, it did not take long for Mathias to witness where the Count's favor fell, and it was in form of a clawed hand on Hector's shoulder, no matter how visibly he and Isaac both tensed. "And from what I have seen of you two, I doubt Hector would shed a tear if you had to depart. That poor man was mesmerized that I talked to him with basic decency. I'd struggle to see you two as friends."

"Presumptuous excuse of a Lord, you don't know the first thing about us!"

"I don't need to. You wear your heart on your sleeve. And what a sorry sight it is." He was no taller and more imposing than Isaac was, but he took a step forward to meet Isaac, emboldened, eager: "You hiss and puff your hair to appear bigger, when you know, you know deep in your heart, that you are a small man, insecure, lonely, clinging, scared to lose what little he has, and no wonder they have grown tired of--"

Mathias couldn't finish his tirade before Isaac pulled him to his mouth.

Calling what he was doing a kiss would be an insult to the very concept of love. Isaac kissed the same way he talked: by biting hard enough to split skin and draw blood, pressing his nails into Mathias' scalp, taking, hurting, trapping him in an iron-tight grip; decency thrown out the window, he banged his fists on every part of the Forgemaster he could reach, but he did not flinch.

A sharp bite on the tongue drew a yell out of him, and only then Isaac retreated, showing his teeth stained with blood.

"Aww, what's that, no more smart words?" he cooed. Mathias pinched the tip of his tongue in a futile attempt to soothe the pain. "I am not a sweet liar like Hector. I will treat you like you are begging for."

There was a lurid threat in Isaac's voice, that froze Mathias over.

The man kept talking, making a show of looking him up and down like an attractive woman - and Mathias swallowed his own blood in fear, because he could no longer tell what was a menace and what was genuine. "If you want me to take care of you so badly, then I suppose I have no choice but to oblige, my Lord. But you'd do well to remember." Quick like a snake, Isaac grabbed a fistful of Mathias' hair and yanked, pulling his head back along with a grunt of pain. "Before being a Lord, before being a human, before being a Christian... you are a piece of meat. And you have barged into the den of beasts."

And with no need for other words, Isaac turned on his heels and walked out of Mathias' room, leaving him with a sore mouth, the hairs on his arms standing up, and a keener understanding of a man animated more by passion than by common sense.

[stormbreaker-290]

sometimes I forget how much you like Mal

I was pleasantly reminded today/silly

Br other you have no idea-

[steel-knight]

gearing up for meta knight’s birthday on saturday

join me as we celebrate my onglydoople

[isdalinarhot]

In case anyone is wondering, Dalinar’s love language is acts of service and Sadeas’s is physical touch and I can cite passages as evidence for this, and Dalinar hates being physically affectionate in public and Sadeas is a lazy bastard and I can cite passages of evidence for this as well. This is why their relationship is doomed and destined to end in divorce

[deepwaterwritingprompts]

Are there any tropes that you will always love? (Or any you will always hate?)

i'm always in for 'huge weird loser that everyone falls in love with anyway'

huge fan of Prince Girls specifically, 10/10 can't get enough

big tragedy enjoyer

thank you for your ask :)

- L

(It's Ask Day! Ask me anything about anything. Tag to block/follow is L Answers)

[toytulini]

name some canonically nonbinary characters why dont you

[thistaleisabloodyone]

-preorders Kazuma's photobook, begrudgingly accepting his space in their heart-

[knockknockitsnickels]

Man I got kinda complicated feelings on how some ppl talk about Shane. I'm not gonna begrudge anyone for disliking him (I actually kinda hated him at first too) but the way some ppl talk about him does not sit right with me. But also I get not liking the whole "I can fix him" thing (even though that's not personally the read I had on his story, but also I was never into him romantically so that probably affects how I see it).

[scarletspider2the2ndpower]

“Kaine,” Web of Spider-Man (Vol. 3/2024), #1.

Writer: Steve Foxe; Penciler: Greg Land; Inker: Jay Leisten; Letterer: Frank D’Armata

[talesfromthebandgeekmafia]

tragic news: local woman already deeply in love with d&d character she hasn’t even gotten to play yet in a campaign that is very likely to fizzle out due to scheduling conflicts

[aidenwaites]

I don't remember the exact details of the books at all but asoiaf fic where after Theon and Jeyne Pool attempt their escape they end up running into Brienne and Podrick and travel with them as they search for Sansa

[effable-as-f]

Idk if the intent was for me to come out of the Scratch Daughters shipping Sideways and Shiloh but like… Sideways commenting on how Shiloh looks handsome in their new clothes… the intimacy of Shiloh bandaging their hand… the emphasis on how the sigil is protection for lovers as Sideways is tattooing it into their skin… Sideways at the end worrying about them being stuck with their parents and thinking about how they need them…. ahh

[primeministerofantarctica]

sorry strangers on the internet demanding people to list out all their Oppression Points and Privilege Points is weird. this is going to sound unbelievable to people raised by facebook and tiktok but consider that you are not entitled to anyone's personal information.

[tonycries]

One More? Please? - G.S.

Synopsis. A kiss always solves everything! But when a kiss turns into something more…well, it’s only a desperate attempt to unseal yourselves from this damned prison realm, right? Right?

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected, coworkers to lovers, being stuck in that damn box, oral (female), mutual másturbation, spitting, fáce-sítting, máting press, Satoru is down bad for you, chóking, overstim, multiple rounds, créampie, pet names (sweetheart), swearing.

Word count. 4.4k

A/N. Happy belated two months to this blog! Concept inspired by this post by @kingkonoha.

“Maybe we should kiss and see if the box opens?”

“That’s the dumbest fucking thing to ever come out of your mouth.”

“Hey- it works in the movies! True love’s kiss and all-”

You heave out a heavy sigh that makes even the skeleton at your shoulder shake its head in pity. Goddamn, if these curses weren’t going to kill him then you will. 

“I take it back. That’s the dumbest fucking thing to ever come out of your mouth.”

Satoru hooks a thumb over his blindfold to gaze at you with mock seriousness. Oh, how the mighty have fallen - and how you were teetering dangerously close to a stroke with each dramatic bat of his long lashes.

“C’monnn~” he whines, with the flair of someone that was not sealed in an inescapable prison, “Don’t tell me that in all these years you’ve never once been at least a little tempted to kiss me, sweetheart.” 

“I’d rather kiss that dusty skull.” Shooting him a pointed look that makes even the skulls at your feet recoil. It would almost be hilarious if it wasn’t for the fact that you were trapped. In the prison realm. With Gojo Satoru of all people. Possibly forever.

Shit, is this karma for all those times you ditched Satoru with Nanami instead of dealing with him yourself?

Now, Satoru might be going about it with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, but just a few minutes ago when his life flashed before his very eyes at the mere sight of Suguru - or at least, the monster wearing his body - he’d expected some of his favorite memories to be the ones with you in it. 

You - his lil�� coworker - in all your gorgeous, smart-mouthed glory. And maybe if he was lucky, he even expected a couple glimpses of you in his future. Preferably with a giant rock on your finger.

But that’s a story for another time, what he certainly did not expect was for your stupidly heroic (and quite beautiful) ass to jump right in the middle of the prison realm’s ensnarement. 

Although, honestly, right now he doesn’t think he’d want to be locked up in here with anyone but you - and that withering glare you send him. 

Undeterred, Satoru has the audacity to throw his head back and laugh. Laugh. A sound you’ve come to realize over the years, as innocent as it sounds, does not bode well for you or your sanity. 

A sanity that’s been slowly dwindling since your first day of meeting Satoru. Back then, a brash, cocky new teacher that waltzed into the halls of Jujutsu Tech in those pretentious sunglasses like he owned the place. 

Well, not that he was any different right now. Lounging over some disgruntled skeletons, you half-expected him to pull out a deck chair and start sunbathing amidst the bones. Your begrudging coworker - and occasional bane of your existence - seemed right at home. 

You, however, were decidedly not having the time of your life. 

“I swear, you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” you grumble, wincing at the bones prodding you from almost every angle. 

“Can you blame me?” he hums, now fully tugging down his blindfold to hang around his neck, “It’s not every day I get to spend quality time with my favorite person in the world.”

You scoff, strangely self-conscious as those striking blue sweep your figure from head to toe. “Lucky me. Well why don’t you spend this quality time helping me figure out how the hell we can get out of here.”

“I already told y-”

“Anything but that.”

With a sulky huff, Satoru peers down at you, “Then we just wait till someone gets us out of here. I’m sure Megumi-chan is just tearing his emo hair out trying to unseal this thing.”

“...”

“You’re absolutely correct, Yuji then. Or…” he tilts his head towards a sad pile of bones, “We end up like our little friend over there. Though I’d make a far better looking skeleton-”

You don’t hear the rest of Satoru’s rant over the small noise of concern that falls from your lips. Something hot and prickly pooling in your stomach at the fact that yes you really were stuck in the prison realm with Gojo Satoru. Possibly forever. And no this wasn’t some strange dream like when you and Shoko accidentally raided the wrong brownie box in the kitchen.

Shit. 

And perhaps it showed on your face, because you’re jolted out of your reverie by warm fingers intertwining with yours. Grounding. Satoru’s eyes now searching yours with an intensity that made you squirm uncomfortably. 

“Hey, we’ll figure this out, okay?” he mutters softly. “Remember that time we accidentally set the training ground on fire?” leaning in closer now, “Or that mission we got chased by that cursed vending machine?”

You roll your eyes, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of your lips despite yourself. “Yeah, and then you nearly got us killed trying to order a sweet tea. ”

Satoru chuckles, squeezing your hand reassuringly. “See? It worked out, didn’t it? It always does, sweetheart.” 

And if your heart does a strange little lurch, well, then you just blame it on the femur jabbing into your side. 

All is quiet in your little hell. That is, until.

“Hey, Satoru…does kissing really work in the movies?” 

You barely catch the way Satoru’s breath hitches ever-so-slightly as he leans in closer. eyes sparkling with mischief. And oh you knew that look - one that was usually accompanied by a lecture by Yaga, one that sent shivers down your spine. He grins, “Well, there’s only one way to find out, hm?”

Embarrassment and amusement bubbles inside you, tumbling out in the form of a barely-audible, “A peck. One.”

“Awww. Eight?”’

“No.”

“Five?”

“Satoru.”

Minty breath fanning your face, “Okay okay, one peck and a kiss to your forehead. C’mon, it’s a bargain~”

Pinching your nose, you sigh out a weary, “This is so stupid. Fine, but if it doesn’t work then I’m strangling you.”

And it’s all that is said before his lips are on yours.  

Soft. Satoru’s lips were so soft. And he tasted so unfairly of caramel apples and sweet, sweet mischief. Just like him. Feather-light and fleeting - yet the kiss burns into your brain with an intensity that you strangely didn’t mind.

It’s over before you know it. The cold air hits your lips as Satoru’s words ring in your ears, a disappointed little, “Aw, that didn’t work.”

Barely even risking a glance at the still very sealed realm, your body reacts before your mind - the expensive cotton of his uniform collar soft against your fingers as you pull Satoru towards you with a sense of urgency you can’t quite explain.

And then you’re kissing him. And he’s kissing you because shit this is all that Satoru’s been dreaming about since he turned 23 and suddenly realized that oh you were frighteningly everything that he ever wanted. 

“S-Satoru,” you whisper, breathless against his lips. 

“Shhhh, my girl. One more. Didn’t work.” 

His lips are searing on yours. Urgent and greedy, because fuck if it took getting trapped in the prison realm to finally kiss you then God knows when he’ll be able to again. 

Which is why he breathes you in like he doesn’t have enough time, and probably never will - even in this godforsaken box where time never passes. 

“Shit. O-one more.”

Drinking in your sweet gasps as he intertwines his tongue with yours, tasting how sinfully delicious you were. Satoru’s hands wander the expanse of your body, cupping your head to kiss you deeper, snaking down to squeeze your ass - and everything in between. 

Pulling away ever-so-slightly with a playful bite to your bottom lip, he leaves a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. The disappointed whine that leaves your pretty mouth makes all the blood in Satoru’s body rush to his cock. 

“Sweetheart.” he grunts into the crook of your neck, lips ghosting over your racing pulse. “Y’think I kissed the wrong lips?”

Oh? 

Satoru’s words send a jolt of electricity running down your spine - all the way down to your heated cunt. “W-what?” you managed to choke out, cheeks flaring as he raises his eyes to meet yours and-

Oh.

Oh, shit. If the curses weren’t going to kill you then Satoru sure might. 

You’re snapped out of your thoughts by Satoru carefully jostling the two of you so that he’s lying on his back, your body manhandled to straddle his pretty face. 

“Satoru, when you mean ‘wrong lips’...here?” you trail off, still reeling from him and the abrupt change in position and him. 

“Exactly what I mean,” he chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest and vibrating beneath your dripping cunt. “Now, spread ‘em wider f’me. Let me taste you- Need it s’bad.”

Body moving as if on autopilot, your knees part wider to let him greedily take in the sight of your soaked panties. Beads of slick seeping through the thin fabric each time his hot breath meets your cunt. 

But not for long - the cool air hits you before you realize what’s happening. Because Satoru is ripping your flimsy panties off with one hand. Throwing it behind to God-knows-where with the urgency of a madman. 

“Shit, so wet f’me already.” he groans, mouth watering at the obscene sight of you clenching around nothing. “S’gorgeous. You really are perfect everywhere, huh?” he mutters through lazy, languid kisses along your thighs. Tongue darting out just so to leisurely trace circles along the heated skin. 

Strong arms wrap around your thighs, the stretch nothing with the two long fingers spreading your swollen folds apart. Your face burns from just how adoring Satoru looks below you.

You buck into his touch, “Hngh- Please. Wan’ your mouth on me.”

And perhaps the great Gojo Satoru decided to be merciful for once in his life, because without another word, he’s surging forward. Tongue flicking out to tease your sloppy entrance, pooling your juices before tipping his head back, back, back to let it slide down his throat so sinfully.

Shit, Satoru could just cum in his pants right now, of course you taste heavenly. Better than he could’ve ever imagined on any lonely night. 

You shudder as he flattens his tongue across your folds, sliding teasingly between them, grazing your swollen clit just barely at an unhurried rhythm that almost has Satoru forgetting where he was. But quite frankly, he couldn’t give less of a fuck about it either.

“This what you wanted, sweetheart?” he hums around your clit, the vibrations making you squeal. Sucking gently, tongue rolling harshly against your bundle of nerves, over and over- “Cause it’s what I’ve been wanting for years.”

The words ring in your ears almost as much as the lewd squelches below. Years?

“F-fuck- feels hngh- What do you mean y-years, Satoru?” 

Oh, Satoru thinks he could pass out just at the way you whine out his name so prettily. Eyes rolling to the back of his head, a hand hastily snaking down to unbuckle his pants. “Mhmm~ Couldn’t go a day without sparring with you where I didn’t think of bending you over and tasting you right there y’know.”

Your eyes snap down to meet Satoru’s hazy, half-lidded ones. Something dark and feral shining within them. And right now, thighs wrapped around his head, you don’t think he’s ever looked happier. White locks splayed out, a fucked-out expression on his face as his tongue bullies past your folds, you could feel the slight smile curling his lips against you. 

It’s overwhelming - both his confession and the way Satoru was making out with your cunt like a man starved.

Nose-deep in your pussy, tongue alternating between its abuse on your throbbing clit and dipping in and out of your sloppy hole at a maddening pace. Mouth only speeding up ruthlessly at the way you convulse and grind involuntarily on top of him.

God, Satoru was going insane at the way your walls were sucking him up so good, clamping down with each push of his tongue. 

“Shit- made jus’ f’me. You like that, don’t you?” he growls against your cunt, voice hoarse with desire. “Like fucking my face with your pussy?”

“Oh! Ngh, yes Satoru- L-love it-”

A bruising grip on your hips, encouraging you to rock against his face. Harder. Tongue more desperate. He couldn’t get enough. Meeting your every grind, tongue lapping at your cunt so obscenely. 

Breaths ragged and hot against your cunt, drinking you in with the desperation of a man that wouldn’t mind giving up air for your essence. And it was Satoru - of course he wouldn’t mind.

Especially with the large hand snaking up your thigh, going from drawing reassuring patterns at your hips to rubbing tight, little circles on your pulsing clit. Hasty, and urgent - like he had no time to waste. “Tha’s right, my girl. Give it up for me,”

Every cell in your body is on fire, every nerve ending singing with pleasure at the way Satoru plays your body like an instrument. 

“M’close, Satoru- Hah- s’close.” you moan breathlessly, a hand tangling in his soft strands. Using it as leverage to ride Satoru’s pretty face just the way you like it.

But you didn’t have to - because Satoru seems to already know exactly what to do. Exactly how to quirk his tongue just right to brush against all your most sensitive spots. Exactly how to match the rhythm of his abuse on your clit to the way he was tonguefucking you into delirium. Exactly how to look at you with such a hungry expression that devours you almost as much as his mouth. 

“Cum f’me, sweetheart.”

Satoru didn’t even have to ask. Because you’re cumming with a strangled gasp of his name. White-hot pleasure coursing through you like lightning, body trembling as you cum all over Satoru’s pretty face. 

Hands moving your limp, boneless hips across his face, forcing you to ride out peak after peak on his red lips.

As the blood roaring in your ears bates, and you blink back your vision, the first thing you see are those familiar blue eyes gazing up at you. Holding you steady, lips brushing gentle kisses along your inner thighs. 

Oh, how beautiful he was like this.

“S-S’toru?” you mewl, still sensitive from your orgasm as Satoru shifts underneath you to sit you prettily in his lap.

“Mhm?” he nuzzles your neck.

“One more. It didn’t work.”

Oh, if you knew the only way to shut up Gojo Satoru was to say something like this then you would’ve done it a lot sooner. 

But Satoru’s stunned silence doesn’t last for long, because he grins, low and sultry, “You’re right. It didn’t work.”

The metallic clinking of a belt echoes in the stuffy chamber as Satoru hastily pushes down his pants. Cock springing free to hit his lower abs, “What a shame.”

You blink at the sheer size of him - he was going to split you in two. It was unfair, really. Water is wet. Gojo Satoru has a big dick. 

But oh was he pretty - so pretty.  Prominent veins glistening in the dim lighting, fat tip flushed your favorite shade of delicate pink, leaking furiously in between your thighs.

Gulping, you reach out to wrap your hand around his achingly hard cock. So warm and heavy in your hands. “Y-yeah, what a shame.”

Both of you watch - entranced - at the way he twitches in your grasp at the mere sound of your voice. A maddening little bump! bump! bump! against your palm as you begin pumping him slowly - so agonizingly slow. 

“Oh- Feel s’good, sweetheart.” Satoru hisses lowly as you swipe at the precum beading at this head. Thumbing teasingly under his sensitive slit, tracing delicately along his veins. 

And by God does it do something to you to see the great Gojo Satoru falling apart for you, hair tousled, lips kiss-bitten, and eyes looking at you like he wanted to positively eat you alive. It made your cunt throb so desperately, slick forming a dark wet patch on his trousers. 

Not one to be left behind, his long fingers deftly snake down to your dripping cunt. Not wasting any time before bullying his fingertips past your swollen folds, curling expertly to press down against that one spot that has your fist faltering on his cock. Hard. 

Pretty little moans left your lips at the way Satoru so easily matches your pace. Thrusting knuckle-deep into your pussy in and out - hitting that spot over and over.

“Shit, Toru- s’deep inside me. I’m- hngh-”

Satoru was in heaven, really. You were so warm and wet around both his fingers and his throbbing cock. 

Only two thoughts running through his mind right now - 1. He was right, your hands were softer and more sinfully delicious around his swollen cock. And 2. The hardest battle he’s ever fought was probably right now - at your mercy, trying not to spill all over your hands because he’d be damned if he finally scored the girl and came in two seconds.

Shit, he thinks fingers almost erratic now, he needs you to cum. Right now. 

As if sensing his urgency, your moves become more frantic, Satoru’s brows furrowing at the way you increase your pace. His hips twitch, as if trying to thrust into your fist. matching your pace as you start stroking him harder, faster. 

Ah, but alas, the great Gojo Satoru’s reputation precedes him. 

“Oh, fuck- M’gonna-” And soon enough, you’re seeing stars behind your eyes - or maybe those were tears - as you cum. Hard. 

Body moving before your mind, you’re clenching around Satoru’s fingers, grinding down so ferally as you edge him closer and closer. “C’mon, Toru. One more, right?” you whisper brokenly, lips ghosting his ear.

Breath coming in short, strained gasps of what sounded like your name now, “Oh- fuck ngh- so close.” he warns, voice hoarse. “If you keep doing that, I won’t be responsible for what happens next.”

You smirk, raising a brow, “Is that a threat, Satoru?”

Willing his fucked-out eyes open, they bore into yours as he utters, “No, ah- it’s a p-promise.”

Without warning, Satoru clasps your wrists, forcing you to stop pumping him. The disappointed mewl threatening to spill from your lips is cut off just as your back hits the ground.

Slam!

You think you could almost get whiplash from how swiftly Satoru had you caged and splayed out so shamefully beneath him. 

You whine, “But you didn’t even get to-”

“Fuck, not now. Gotta feel you or else m’gonna cum so embarrassingly all over your fist.” He rests his throbbing erection laid out so enticingly across your stomach, leaking hot precum onto your skin. And that makes you shut up, eyes mapping where it ended and realizing that yeah, you might’ve faced more mercy with the curses outside of this box. “Besides. One more, right?”

And before you can respond, Satoru’s spitting on you once. Twice. Thrice.

You flinch as the wads of saliva hit your dripping cunt, mixing with your slick so obscenely as Satoru smears it across your swollen folds. Your mouth drops into a soft oh! of disbelief as he promptly pops his thumb into his mouth, groaning at the taste. 

“Shit.” Satoru hisses lowly, “One more might just not be enough.”

Not wasting a moment longer, he’s bullying his throbbing cock into your snug cunt. Head thrown back as your plush walls desperately try to accommodate his size.

“Oh. Oh shit hah- should’ve been locked up here ngh- sooner.” he groans, words straight from his cock. “Feel s’heavenly around m-me.” Because God Satoru thinks he wouldn’t even mind staying here for the rest of his life if it meant he got to have you like this.

You moan at the positively delicious stretch of your pussy, plush walls unable to decide between pushing him out and milking the soul out of him. “Hah- Toru s’too big. I can’t-” 

“You will.” he grits out, teeth clenched and brows furrowed as he focuses on letting you adjust. Pressing inch by fucking inch. Eyes rolling to the back of his head as he fights that feral part of himself that just wants to plunge into your pretty pussy till his tip kisses your cervix, and you’re drunk on nothing but his cock.

But he didn’t have to - because you’re immediately wrapping your legs around his toned waist, pulling Satoru to you recklessly until his heavy balls smack your ass. Tufts of snowy white hair - already so wet with your slick and his precum - finally meeting your cunt.

“Ah! Shit, s’full Toru.” you keen, body bowing into his.

There’s not even a hair's breadth between your bodies now as Satoru chuckles darkly. “You little minx. Thought you couldn’t handle me, but you really wanted to be split apart on my cock, huh?”

You feel almost shy under his gaze as you mumble out a quiet little, “Well you did say one more.”

Ah, Satoru thinks deliriously, if you aren’t Mrs. Gojo by the time you two get out of this then there’s seriously something wrong with him. 

But he doesn’t tell you that. Instead with a satisfied smirk, he claims your lips in a searing kiss, sucking your tongue so lewdly as he did with your cunt. Parting for only a second before pressing his lips to yours again. And again. And again, as if it hurt to part.

“Mhm. Always wanted to do this, sweetheart.” he hums against your pretty lips. “Fuck ever since you hah- walked in on that first day.” 

Kissing you sweetly with a tenderness that doesn’t translate to his hips as pulls back, back, back. All the way till his angry, hard tip was just grazing your sloppy entrance. “One more.”

Body moving before his mind, his hips start fucking into your dripping cunt recklessly. Satoru doesn’t fuck you with the finesse he imagined he would all these years, rough, harsh thrusts fueled by pure need and all the desperation from these last few years.

In one, fluid movement, the burn of the stretch hits you before the realization that Satoru has thrown your legs over his sculpted shoulders. 

“Ah- So good, Toru. Oh my god- hah-” you mewl at the change in angle. His pulsing dick expertly hitting that one spot inside you which has your words slurring together, body arching off the floor to press so impossibly close against him. 

And, well, Satoru isn’t any better - because he’s slamming his cock into you mindlessly. Hitting that spot over and over. 

With one hand, he caresses your stomach. Whispering out a ragged, “Feel me inside? Feel me right…” Pressing his palm down hard, “Here.”

The other forces you to look up at him, drinking in your whines of “Yes yes yes, can feel you s-so deep hngh- inside me, Toru.” 

You’re so cockdrunk and full of Satoru that you barely notice the hands groping their way down your body. Catching harshly on your swollen clit, starting to draw, quick, frenzied circles that match the cadence of his hips smacking into yours. 

“Look at me.” he murmurs raspily, “Open your mouth.”

And you can do nothing but take it, tongue lolling out so lewdly for the warm stream of spit that hits it. Once. Twice. 

You look up at him with teary eyes, as you take it all -  anything and everything he was giving. And it makes Satoru bow his head with a fucked-out groan, cock twitching so animalistically as it keeps plunging inside you roughly. Deft fingers on your clit becoming more desperate.

Harder. Faster. Balls squeezing so painfully. Like a lamb to slaughter, he was going to eat you up - and you were going to let thim.

You squeal at the overstimulation, hips bucking up for more more more-

“God, sweetheart, you don’t know what you do to me.” he moans, voice strained with desire and the euphoria of getting everything he’s wanted for so long. It was driving him insane. “Now c’mon. One more. Give me one more like my good girl.”

“Hngh- yes- Toru!”

You don’t even know what “one more” means anymore - all you do know is that you’re cumming and cumming all around Satoru’s unforgiving cock. Walls fluttering so snugly, your body convulses as you cream around his cock. Nails dragging down the expanse of his sculpted back, Satoru’s name leaving your bruised lips and into the heady air like a prayer every time his tip kisses your cervix. His new favorite melody.

And that seems to be what makes him snap as well - because with a final, sloppy thrust, he’s painting your walls such a sinful white. Pumping thick, hot ropes of his cum into your quivering cunt. 

“Shit- yeah, my girl. Take it. Take it all f’me.” Satoru shudders above you, head thrown back, chest heaving as he fucks you through your high. Movements nothing more than shallow, mindless little thrusts to get you both off so animalistically. 

It was so fucking filthy - and exactly what you needed so badly. He was exactly what you needed so badly. 

Now, Satoru only had to take one look as you use him so obscenely for your pleasure - eyes dazed, drool trickling down the corner of your mouth - before he thinks he might just cum again. And again. And again until he physically couldn’t anymore.

But first…

Pulling out of your heavenly pussy with a lewd pop! His long fingers delicately collects the mixture of slick and cum now gushing out of you obscenely. 

Aw, what a waste, Satoru muses as it pools below you sinfully. If it was up to him he wouldn’t waste a single drop from your pretty cunt. 

But no matter. 

Abruptly, Satoru bullies two fingers into your mouth - forcing you to taste yourself, to taste him. Pressing right at the back of your tongue in a way that has you choking and gagging around him, teary eyes just begging up at him. Perfect - you were so perfect for him. 

Kissing your forehead with a tenderness that doesn’t match his actions, he hums, faux innocence lacing his words, “What a shame, the box didn’t open yet.”

And oh does he love the excitement lighting up your exhausted eyes. Pretty thighs twitching underneath him as a slow, fucked-out little smile curls your lips. 

“One more? Please?”

A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.