#nothing *too* heavy handed :3

[todayisafridaynight]

i think the only person who could REALLY confront kiryu was haruka and no one else, because, again, he cant dismiss her or fistfight with her about it. it could be so tasty to see how he tries to make a decision for again and she goes 'ummm chotto matte i actually have a kid now too, so how about I decide for MYSELF'. because one thing about me? i love generational conflicts. man it's just so sad because this game had all the potential to be great and yet

and speaking of other games, i'm planning on playing everything that has been ported to pc and localised. gonna go through completion lists in the games i've already finished :) looking forward to ishin and judgement and not really looking forward to y7 because the fighting looks nightmarish. until last week i was sure it was a beat em up... but if i learned how to play mahjong, i'll handle a turn based combat system too lmao

I don't think Kiryu would default to violence or an argument if someone were to call him out on his instability as a parent- he'd probably agree with them honestly as even as early as Y2 and later Y5, Kiryu had doubts of being able to raise just Haruka. Ergo, hearing it from Haruka herself probably would be the most effective and most impactful.

I'm sure you'll love Ishin! It's a really fun game with pretty colorful gameplay and opportunities and play around with the combat, and- maybe it's because I'm an enjoyer for history- the story's great to follow and become involved in.

[tonycries]

Love Thy D!LF - T.F.

Synopsis. Yes, your neighbor is a hot, pérvy D!LF. Yes, he’s a total tease. No, you don’t think your poor new bed frame is going to stay in one piece…

Pairing. Toji Fushiguro x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, older! Toji, voyéurísm, pánty-stéaling, male mast., exhibítionísm, he is so DOWN BAD, matíng presses, marathon s, víbrators, oraI (fem rec.), face-sítting, p slápping, p talking, BRÉEDING, mentions of kids, PÚSSYDRÚNK TOJI, proposals, overstím, creampíes, shóoting blanks, he’s a tease that’s shírtless half the time, Megumi’s a real one, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 8.1k (PHEW)

A/N. Apartment building wouldn’t last a week if he was my neighbor.

Neighbor (UGH): another pair of those cute lil’ pajama shorts made their way onto my balcony again, ma.

Your neighbor was a tease.

Ever since you’d stepped foot into this apartment building a mere few months ago, it seemed like everything and anything he did was to rile your poor head up into a frenzy - and, well, down there…

Because, for lack of a better term, Toji Fushiguro was hot. 

Once your landlord had off-handedly mentioned that the occupant of the apartment right beside your own was a single father, you’d imagined a sweet older man that doted on his young son and would likely steer clear out of your way. 

What you certainly had not expected was for your housewarming gift of a fresh batch of cookies to be oh-so-blatantly greeted by a staggeringly gorgeous man that took up every inch of the doorframe. Shirtless.

Bzzt–!

Your skin burns with the realization of just how deeply you’d been reminiscing back to that heavenly sight, hastily snapping your eyes back onto your blaring phone screen.

Neighbor (UGH): well? hurry before i start to like them too much <3

Ugh, you’re rolling your eyes at that mischievous little heart placed at the end of his text. It was absolutely embarrassing how that was enough to have a tiny squeal slipping through your lips involuntarily. Calling you flirty nicknames, flashing winks your way, lingering his hands just slightly whenever he helped carry your groceries upstairs - Toji did everything. 

You find yourself giving your reflection a slow one-over in your phone camera - just in case. Before padding eagerly down the treacherous pathway that carried you out of your apartment and along the five steps down the corridor to your neighbor’s door. 

Heaving out a shaky breath, you knock.

And Toji Fushiguro never made you wait. He never had you standing in the hallway for more than two seconds before that heavy wooden door swings open…almost as if he’d been suspiciously standing by for this.

“Took ya long enough. Heh, I was beginning to think you almost wanted me to have it, doll.”

Oh.

Oh.

Shit, you should���ve known - and it takes every ounce of will in your body to keep your gaze locked with the forest-green eyes sweeping down the expanse of your figure. Greedily. 

Because Toji was showing off what looked like miles upon miles of slightly-tanned, bulging muscles that were just about seconds away from ripping straight through the thin, white undershirt that stuck to him like a second skin. Molding to every curve and dip down, down, down- 

It’s not something new exactly, and if there was one thing you’d learned during your time here, it was that your eccentric neighbor wasn’t shy to show skin.

Especially around you. 

In one hand was grasped the soft fabric of your cotton shorts, swallowed up by his thick digits. The other propping up on top of the door to flex his strong biceps in a way that makes you gulp. 

You notice with a jolt that Toji’s pinkish tongue briefly peaks out to swipe over that sinful scar sitting prettily at the very edge of his smug smirk. Moving to hum cockily, “Cat got yer tongue?”

He knew what he was doing. 

God, this was already shameful enough without him making it worse. You were only grateful that so far you’d been called over for only a few sundresses and t-shirts - nothing scandalous, yet. 

“No-” you’re mumbling out. Trying oh-so-hard to not let your eyes flicker to the too-tight strain of his boxers around his thick thighs. Failing. “Just wondering how you probably need those shorts more than me, anyway.”

He didn’t - in fact, you’d prefer him without one.

A fat thumb of his finds its way to the hem of his boxers, tugging down so tantalizingly slightly to give you a sexy flash of skin. Lined with a sharp hipbone, and a dark happy trail - “S’that your way of tellin’ me you want me out of this, ma?”

“You wish, pervert.” You try to swipe at your shorts, only for Toji to dangle it far, far away from you. “I just meant those b-boxers look like they’ve seen better days. Years, even.” 

“Hah?” Toji’s dragging out mockingly, leaning his broad shoulders against the doorframe. He’s crossing his hands, letting your sight be obscured by the display of his strong, rippling forearms. So close now that you feel his breath fan your face, could smell every waft of his cinnamony masculine scent. Grin only widening, “M’being nice enough to take the time outta my day to hand over your cute lil’ pieces of laundry and this is how ya talk to me? I have better things to do, y’know.”

Huffing, you’re ready with a quick apology on the very tip of your tongue to get this over with as soon as possible. That is, before-

“He’s lying.”

Both of you snap your heads down towards the direction of the sullen, deadpanning voice. And you already know by the wearied sigh at the end who it belongs to. 

“Why, hello there, Megs-” you’re smiling, reaching out to ruffle those spikes of black hair that’d magically manifested beside the door. Ignoring Toji’s affronted grunts of “he never lets me do that.”

“He’s lying, y’know.” Megumi blinks his eyes up at you, and you silently wonder just how it was possible for a six-year-old to look like he’s seen all the horrors of the world already. He’s ruthless. Pointing a sharp, accusatory finger up at his father, “He doesn’t have better things to do. He’s been giggling disgustingly to himself in front of the door for the past-”

“That’s enough- why don’t you get some homework done, my son.” Toji’s clapping his hand immediately over Megumi’s mouth, wrangling his tiny, thrashing body over one shoulder before briefly disappearing inside. 

“Just tell her!”

“I’m taking your iPad time away!”

It’s just about all that you hear from inside before he makes his appearance again - shaggy, black tresses now disheveled, high cheekbones flushed, and from the corner of your very obvious staring you notice a pearly bead of sweat disappear between his cushiony pecs. Though, your eyes follow, you didn’t mind…

“Tch- kids these days, right?” he’s gasping in a few hurried lungfuls. Planting the shorts into your open palms, his calloused pads linger on your hand. “S-so uh, I take that the dryer’s not working, yet?”

You’re sighing, rubbing your fingers over your throbbing temples. “Yeah, I told Higuruma- our landlord to look at it, but he’s still on that business trip and won’t be back for a while. Sorry about all this, Toji.”

“Please-” he’s waving. “You worry your pretty lil’ head too much, it’s not like m’complaining now. Am I?”

“Yeah but-”

“Besides. Why don’t I take a look at it?”

“What?” your brows scrunch together, and the thought of Toji being inside your home made your words tremble ever-so-slightly with- anticipation? Excitement? Want? Whatever it was, it made his dark brows raise, and you’re sure you had an utterly unexplainable look on your face right now. “Do you even know how to?”

He’s scoffing, eyes rolling at you with practice. “Asking me if I know how to fix shit- of course, I fuckin’ know how to fix a dryer. Probably better than ol’ clipboard Higuruma himself. You need to be taken care of, y’know.”

And, yes, that might be so - but more than that came the idea that Toji had to enter your home to do so. You couldn’t help but think of something else. Making you mutter out a heated, “I’ll…consider it.”

He smiles a smug smile, a tiny dimple digging into the very end of his cheek. “Tha’s what I like to hear, ma.”

The very second that door shuts, you’re rushing back to your own apartment. Shorts clutched to your thumping heartbeat and thighs slightly weaker than they were just a few minutes ago. Slightly…hotter. Ready to scramble back into your bedroom and create just a bit more laundry for tomorrow. 

And only a few seconds later does Toji find himself doing the most pathetic fistbump behind closed doors. The beginnings of a sleazy smile on the very edges of his lips. 

“Smooth, dad.”

“Now I’m serious about no iPad-”

Megumi’s running back into his room before that rasping threat has even left Toji’s predictable lips. Grumbling, he’s making his way to that godforsaken frog-cased iPad cushioned in the middle of the sofa, possibly to hide it away for a few hours.

And then, he sees it. 

Now, one of the very reasons that Toji had rented this apartment in the first place was for that idyllic skyline winking up from over his balcony. Towering buildings, flashing lights, all overlooking his living room couch - which, unfortunately for him - or, well, fortunately more like - just-so-happened to be positioned right next to your own balcony lined with laundry. 

So it wasn’t exactly a surprise for him to catch a fluttering piece of cotton or ratty sleep shirt of yours for him to tease about later. 

With a sigh at the flashing piece of fabric, he’s shuttering the sliding window open - ready to call your pretty self over again before-

“Shit.” Toji hisses, deep baritone wavering. His brows are raising down at the stray cloth, prominent Adam’s apple bobbing with a gulp. You really wear this type of shit? Well, he shouldn’t exactly be surprised but…

But this?

Because wrapped easily around his long fingers was a pair of pretty, pretty lace panties. Panties. All pink and see-through enough that Toji thinks he could see his own fingerprints through that flimsy excuse of underwear. 

All of a sudden…his hands mindlessly raise up, up, up - mere inches away from his nose when…fuck.

“Damn, woman.” he’s spitting, snapping back to his senses. Ignoring the tightening in his pants to speedwalk his hasty way over to his bedroom in search of his phone. Just a few clicks away from texting you- “Gonna be the fuckin’ death of me I swear-”

And, see, Toji Fushiguro isn’t the type to stutter. 

He isn’t the pathetic type to let anyone else’s voice shoot a bolt of electricity down his spine - to choke right in the middle of his sentence. 

But, you always did throw him off, didn’t you?

Because he’s letting his maw slack open in a sharp gasp- no, shudder at the muffled, drawling sound from beyond the walls. Fingers loosening around his phone in sheer shock when he snaps his head towards his shared wall where your bedroom was. 

Where he could hear your honeyed voice. Moaning. 

And Toji gulps…before locking the door to his bedroom.

Like an animal, he’s immediately sneaking up to press his greedy ear against the wall where it was emanating from. Aching for every tiny gasp and whine, he could just imagine the way you were splayed out across your plush mattress, fingers buried deep.

So cute.

“Please- it feels s-so good.” Comes your cute mewl, followed by the buzzing vrrrr—! of what he assumes to be that hot pink rose toy of yours that’d accidentally gotten delivered to his address last week. And Toji almost snickers.

“F-fuck-” he breathes out shakily. Unabashedly listening for more, more, more- “Ya can’t be serious- what a treat.”

And Toji knows he should be the bigger person and stop listening, he knows he should ignore the sultry way your trembling moans were sending shockwaves down to his tight boxers. But he can’t.

“Ngh- r-right there-” you’re whimpering, and Toji tuts at the way he could’ve found your sweet spots much earlier. “-yeah- hah- jus’ a little more- Toji-”

His phone clatters! to the ground.

Did you just say…his name?

“Fuck-” One massive hand of his comes down to clap over his jaw-dropped mouth, biting back an answering moan coming from something dangerously dark, primal from inside his heaving chest. 

Shit, he can’t breathe - he can’t even think right now because every drop of blood in Toji’s entire body was sprinting down to his heavy cock smacking down his thigh. Rock-hard. Angry. Just twitching when your voice repeats his name louder. 

“Toji—!”

Ah, there it was again. And with it, he can feel every shred of his sanity being thrown away. Only once- twice was enough to get Toji addicted. To have his melty mind yearning to hear it again. And again. And again and again and-

Toji feels pathetic. 

Like some hormone-hazed, younger version of himself when his hands frantically fumble their way to hook into the elastic band of his boxers. Feeling absolutely zero guilt when he tugs-

Toji was hard. Painfully, furiously hard just from the mere sound of your voice. Swollen and sobbing. It was enough to have his fat, strawberry-pink tip smack! against his toned abs, smearing down a wet glissade of precum that makes him hiss. All but drooling at the scratch of your panties being wrapped delicately around his sensitive shaft. 

“Oh god.” he’s breathing out, thumbing over a wet glide on the bawling divot of his swollen head. It’s pooling like a translucent little puddle, wet enough that those pearlescent beads gloss a wet trail all the way down to his wrist. And he’s popping the salted-caramel digit into his mouth. “Wh-who the fuck do ya think you are ta get me this hard, ma?”

The fat curve of his thumb latches on to plug up the very ends of his cock, stopping himself from wasting a single precious drop before listening.

For anything.

“C-c’mon–” Toji lets his heavy body lean against the wall after a few more sloppy squelches that pull from your saturated cunt. He could already hear how dripping wet you were. How needy. “Wanna hear your hah- pretty lips talk-”

Toji’s sinking his sharp canines onto his lower lip to hold back a groan. Because as much as he loved to hear himself talk - hearing you moan was worth more than anything. Even if it cost him his rationality to quieten down. Please- 

Ah, his prayers are answered.

Because the wall slightly jitters with your vibrating voice once more. “Oh- sh-shit it feels so good-”

“Heheh, does it?” he’s grunting, drawing a slow wetness of swirls on the underside of his slit. Hard enough to send him seeing stars. “Tell me- t-tell me more, ma.”

And could you read his mind?

Because whatever’s left of it certainly seems to think so at the way that no sooner are the words spilling from his babbling lips that you’re feeding his blessed ears with a few more syrupy sweet whines. And Toji shivers when he hears the creak of your bed.

Damn…he could make it break. He’s sure. 

The thought is enough to send his hips rutting into his fist, furiously fucking up into it like he was angry. Like he wishes he could do with you-

“O-oh-” Toji gasps out a hot, condensed breath feeling the slight massage of your thin panties at his twitchy balls. He’s unsteadily picking its sticky cloth apart to press it even deeper into the drenched tufts of black at his hilt, down every thumping vein that’s lightning-bolted down his length. “This thing b-barely even wraps around my cock, doll.”

He’s hot. So, so hot. Latching onto the hem of his undershirt with his teeth to swipe across his sensitive nipples. 

Burning.

And, really, he didn’t know what was worse for his poor self - your noises from just the other room, or the way your panties felt so good down his cock in this one. 

“Good fuckin’ girl.” He twirls your panties around his fat hilt, meshing against the creamy pink at his hefty base. Fucking it up, up, up with pound after pound that half-leaves the poor thing in tatters. Well, he sure hoped you didn’t like this pair too much. “Probably so fuckin’ oh- wet now, huh? Did I do that? Didn’t know you were s-such a slut f’me.”

Every slobbering drag down his length has Toji’s dark brows knitting together. Back and forth back and forth back and- So hard. 

So hot and heavy. He could barely catch his breath, sweat perspires across his forehead, and Toji could almost taste the metallic tang of blood when he’s holding back every rasping ah! ah! ah! just to hear your voice. 

It was agonizing. 

And he couldn’t help but imagine the way you were probably toying your tired fingers over your clit - the way you’d probably be so shy at how he could so clearly hear you. Killing Toji that it was the only thing he could do.

SLAM!

“Shit-” Toji’s snapping his head up at the mindless way his free hand had come smashing down onto the nearby drawer for any shred of balance. Sharp ears searching desperately for any sign that you’d heard-

“Ngh- yes- jus’ a bit more-”

He breathes out a guilty sigh of relief when the saturated slurps of your cunt only continue. Filling his mind sloppily like his favorite song. Gulping in a harsh wad of saliva before spitting a thick stream right onto the very edge of his plump, reddish head. His hulking body wracks with a violent shudder as it drip! drip! drips down every tender spot on his swollen cock. Beading down to cover his heavy balls in a thin sheen of spit. 

“Look what you’ve done.” he’s spitting. Other hand coming down to rub lazy, massaging circles around his bulbous, cum-filled sacks. The sheer stimulation enough to have his head lolling drunkenly against the wall.

“M’so close-” Your voice only makes Toji fuck into his hand even harder - if only it was you. You, you, you - the only thing playing around his currently stupid mind. “-g-gonna cum ah-”

That makes him bawl out another furious wave of precum staining your panties see-through, glinting with every flutter down his raw cock. Faster. It was building and building up so close-

“C-close already?” he’s snickering, bending at the knees with how weak he was. Toji’s biceps flex and and ache with just how wildly he was fucking up into his fist, abs rippling with each wild buck. He half-wonders if he’d be able to see that pretty frilly pattern of your panties imprinted on his cock the next day. Over and over- “I woulda m-made you cum sooner.”

Would your beautiful eyes roll to the very back of your head when you did?

Would you beg him to cum, too? To fill you up. To breed you. Shit, that had his hefty shaft twitch in his hands, electricity flashing behind Toji’s eyes. 

Would you moan his name - oh, please moan his name.

“P-please-” Toji finds himself gasping, and his entire body was hunched over now. Pathetic. Waiting for any second that you’d reach your high - he was a gentleman, after all. “Cum f’me- ah fuck fuck fuck-” Twiddling a manicured thumb in a slow line underneath his sensitive slit, it was making him moan so dangerously loud. “-please- cum on this fuckin’ cock, ma.”

“Fuck! Toji-” Comes your yelp, and it makes his mouth water. Breath held in a choked-up gasp in his puffing chest, “-m’cumming.”

He could see it already - just how pretty you’d look with your head thrown back and your back arching into his cock when you finally reach your high. 

Now, Toji doesn’t know what overtook him to drag those drenched panties up to his face - to press it thoroughly against his nose and smell your essence. Breathing it in. drinking it in. But he can’t pretend like he hadn’t imagined it many, many times before. 

And it makes him cum 

It makes him shudder with a heavy puff of air, once. Twice. Before dumping and dumping out stringy wads of seed until your soft panties were soaked.

“Oh shit- shit shit shit-” he spews out a slurring slew of profanities, painfully hard cock bursting at the end with wet splatters of cum. So much of it. It’s making such a filthy mess that he almost feels guilty. 

Jaw clenching when he’s forced to part with your panties with a pained gruff, sliding it along his thoroughly coated cock. Hi cum seeps through the fabric and into a milky puddle that pools at his wrist, dripping down a milky sheen across his skin. 

“Mmpf–” his mouth salivates. A low, disappointed scoff bursting at the back of his throat when your own obscene noises quieten down. He missed you already. Dewy eyes veering to the back of his head, he’s only wondering how much prettier these would look on you. Still as ruined. “You’d be lucky to get these fuckin’ panties back, woman.”

Bzzt–! 

From its discarded place on the floor, he can read the notification flashing across the phone screen.

Cutie-next-door: I’ve decided - can you come by tomorrow to fix the dryer, pleeeease?

---

“-ah, ya see when this vent is clogged s’gonna stop working. And so what you hafta do is-”

You weren’t listening.

You couldn’t.

Because Toji Fushiguro was sprawled out across your cramped kitchen - completely shirtless.

You had half the mind to turn him away after he’d knocked on your door with absolutely no sign of any upperwear - that sleazy grin plastered all over his face begging the answer to whether this was on purpose. To tease you. “Can move better this way” your ass. 

But the thought of having even more of your laundry fly away, forcing you to potentially face this very same display multiple times is what had you opening your front door wider to let him inside. 

No matter how much you would’ve appreciated the view…

And so here you were, squirming in one corner of the kitchen while Toji worked on your dryer. Sweat sheening down his swole muscles, disappearing in tempting beads down underneath his low-hanging pants. Slight smears of grease decorate his pecs, and you have to cross your arms to stop yourself from thumbing them away. He was so handy. 

Shit, this was why you’d dolled-up just a bit more than usual. He was so-

“-doll? Doll.”

“Uh-” you’re yelping, blinking your eyes back up to meet an extraordinarily smug smirk now directed at you. “W-what were you saying?”

“Heh, I was saying you should take a picture, it’ll last longer.” he titters with a slight rumble, tools clinking when he’s taking off his bulky gloves. “Ya can enjoy the view later, but I was askin’ if ya had anything to dry right now to test this piece of junk.”

Urgently, you’re looking towards your empty laundry basket. “Sorry, seems that I dried them all out yesterday.”

“No pressure, besides-” You can only watch when he shuffles a hand inside one of his curiously bulging pant pockets. “-I came prepared.”

“Wh-wha- where did you get that?” 

Because held so daintily within Toji’s cocky clutches, dangled one of your missing pairs of panties. They looked recently washed, and you’re reaching with a yelp for it. Falling onto your knees to match his seated position - which, obviously didn’t mean he’d hand it over. 

Why would he? This was Toji Fushiguro. 

He only throws them into your dryer, before closing the door with a dark snicker, “More like why let them fly their merry way over to my balcony again. Honestly- you call me the tease but look who’s talking.”

“You’re saying I’m the tease?” you shrill. The embarrassment was getting to you now - it was overconsuming you - and if the leering smirk on Toji’s face was anything to go by, you were sure that it was visible. 

“If the shoe- or, well, panties fit.”

He was so cocky about his stupid lil’ joke. 

You stab a rude finger right between the valley of his pecs, copping a feel of the velvety smooth skin. “Sh-shut up, if you want to talk about a tease then let’s talk about who showed up to fix a dryer shirtless.”

“Part of the outfit.” he shrugs. Tilting his head up at you, and shit, it finally hits you how precariously close you two are right now. Toji’s splayed out on your cool kitchen tile, while you’re straddling his slender waist with jittery legs, pressed up against the heated proximity of his unfairly shirtless body. Chest-to-chest. “Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy the view, little miss had-a-fun-time-yesterday.”

You blink, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

But in true Toji fashion, the closest to an answer you get is a large hand attaching roughly onto your waist. Jostling your body close enough for him to breathe out in a feverish chuckle - hot, and purposeful against your ear. “The walls are thin. Just sayin’.”

Oh.

Oh, shit. 

You knew exactly what he was talking about - and so did he. 

“...I heard you, too, y’know.”

Ah, you can now live your life happily knowing that you managed to make the ever-confident Toji gasp. You managed to make him part his lips in a slight gape, green eyes glinting with a hint of something dangerous as they widen. His sensory digits pinch at your hips. 

“You mean-”

“Yes.”

Uncharacteristically, Toji takes a few gulping seconds to find his voice. And when he does - the very sound is enough to send shivers down your spine and make you wonder for a split-second whether this was really him. Hoarse, pained when he muses, “You heard me and still continued?”

Instantly, you’re trying to form excuses. “No! I mean- yes. It’s just that…”

“Heh, cute. You continued because of me- didn’t ya?”

Your jaw drops in shock, now a slightly defensive tone bleeding in with the embarrassment of your actions. “I-I mean I was doing- it- just fine before I heard you.”

Toji cocks his head, and only says one thing - “Prove it.”

.

.

.

“T-Toji this is embarrassing-”

But oh, all that Toji was wondering was whether he’d knocked his head on that goddamn dryer and gone to heaven already. 

Because splayed out for all his pleasure on the cushiony bed was you - quivering legs straddled wide open, your back arched in such a delicious curve that makes his mouth water. Your silken sheets were disheveled and sloppy enough that you’d have to pray the dryer works now. Glistening cunt winking down at him eagerly, just begging him in cute, slurring squelches after every buzzing push of your vibrator.

And Toji? Seated right underneath your cute cunt - hovering mere inches away from sitting on his cocky smirk. 

All he’d been imagining. As gorgeous as how he’d imagined you yesterday- no, even more so.

Toji’s leering up at you, muscular thighs manspreading even more to show off his furiously hard erection. “Shhh sh sh-” Toji hums, eyes unwavering from right between your legs. “She’s the one talkin’ to me right now, doll.”

And surely enough, it’s almost like he’s having a conversation with your pussy. Nodding and drunkenly humming along to every slurp that resounds across the heady room. “Tha’s right, make her- make her even wetter for me.”

He’s letting loose his long pinkish tongue to catch the drops of your sweet, sweet juices that slide down his throat. 

His breath is so steaming hot against your cunt. Feverish. You huff out a dragged-out whine, kissing up your plump clit with the very edge of your rose toy. Just barely teasing the sensitive hood, “B-but I need you so-”

“Now now, what did I say?” he tuts away your stubborn moans easily. And you’re gazing over your shoulder upon the utterly unapologetic grin that falls across Toji’s face when he tugs down his own pants to flash you with the fat, rotund curve of his ruddied tip. Curling his fingers over the very top, “You don’t need me, remember- Let that pretty pussy talk with me or all you’re gonna do is watch.”

Except now you didn’t think you could talk even if you wanted to.

Your eyes are glazing over with a fresh wall of need when they fall greedily upon the peaking sight of Toji’s fat cock. So massive that it makes your jaw slip open, your cunt gushing out in a few gushes of slick. 

“Oh shit- shit-” his eyes widen at the sight, so thoroughly honed in. Almost as if he doesn’t even realize he’s speaking to you. Doesn’t even know. And a few ringing squelches is all it takes for him to throw his head back with a groan. “That got ya wet, ma, didn’t it? Made your cute ngh- c-cunt happy?”

“Yes-” you’re gasping, winking away the overstimulated tears in your eyes. “B-but I want you-”

“Tell me exactly  what you want, doll.”

So bossy, you want to snap back. 

But right now you’re too hypnotized by the slutty sight of him to say a word. The way he seemed so ruined. That you can’t help but whimper, “I want you to hah- make me cum.”

And it’s just a split-second later when his brawny arms come wrapping around your jittery waist, hauling you over like some glorified rag doll to seat your fatigued legs down. Your dripping cunt meeting his mouth in a sultry, sultry French kiss. 

He doesn’t waste a second longer - almost as if beating himself up for all the time wasted - before dragging his tongue to open your presoaked folds. Swirling so hotly to smear them out across his lips, Toji dredges his raised scar across your most tender spots and moans. 

Sweet.

So sweet.

“This- this fuckin’ delicious?” He sounded like he was losing his mind, swatting aside your hand. “Move that fuckin’ hand. Y-you were- you were holding out on this? Could eat this cute cunt all the time- could marry ya-”

Proposing and proposing and kissing-

He latches down his glistening canines around your clit and pinches, almost as if a little punishment. And you could practically see the delight lighting up his dark eyes when your cunt slowly grows even more drenched. Little masochist, he’s thinking. 

You yelp when without any sort of warning his cheeks hollow out in a sudden suck at your sensitive nub, swirling his tongue over it. “H-how’s that feel?” he giggles - giggles. “Better than your imagination or what?”

It already was. 

But you couldn’t let his ego expand anymore than it already has, so the only thing you’re managing to do is trap a few sweat-dampened locks of his hair and drag your slobbering cunt down Toji’s mean mouth. Partly because you needed it, partly because you needed him to shut up. 

Choking out, “D-don’t get so full of yourself, Toji–”

“Full of myself?” he’s chuckling - face smeared with a translucent mask of glistening slick that told you exactly why he should be full of himself. It glosses over his curled lips and drips down Toji’s sharp jawline. “Full of myself? Gimme that-”

Instantly, your till buzzing vibrator is being snatched meanly out of your hands. “S’this what ya want, instead, ma?”

Toji didn’t expect an answer.

And you can’t give him one.

Because that furiously jittery probe is being bullied right between your puffy pussy lips, licking a languid line down the edge of your sloppy hole. Before he’s bullying the long end inside your eager entrance-

“Does it feel good?” he’s taunting. Sinking down onto your clit and pulling. “Oh yeah- feels great. Doesn’t it?”

But it’s such a mouthful that sputtered out into your clit. The vibrations of white-hot pleasure making your spine bow like such a slut into Toji’s ravenous mouth. And your jaw slack open in the most strained of whines, “Y-yeah feels so-mmpf-”

Immediately, your mouth is being firmly shut closed with one of Toji’s mountainous palms, and he snickers. Giving you pretty lil’ cunt a pat that has splatters of slick speckling all the way to his lips - ones that he gladly licks up. And then some at the remnant excess all over your thighs. “I was talking to her.”

“Y-you’re so mean.”

At this, he pulls back and blows a heated gust of air against your puckered hole. “And you’re fucking drenched.” That spearing bullet is lodged firmly against a few tenderized sweet spots that make you keen. “And she’s saying…s’not enough.”

You were sure he was talking for himself. 

Or…was he? 

Honestly, you don’t even know - you didn’t even realize what you were missing until the fat girths of Toji’s digits shove their filthy way into your narrow opening. Already so stuffed, yet, he’s scissoring aside the vibrator into the gooey depths of your walls. 

Either you could take him or he’ll make space. 

Whistling out in awe, “Dontcha think this feels muuuch better?” As if to whittle out another one of your syrupy sweet noises, you’re being gifted with another sopping wet thwack! against the ready nub of your clit. Before Toji wraps his scarred lips around it and sucks. “Look- she’s even fuckin’ wetter.”

You didn’t even have to see to be able to know - because you could hear. 

Toji was steadily pummeling your cunt with the most staggering smashes of the rounded curves of his fingertips into your sweetest spots. Jostling the vibrator inside, knuckles smashing it with friction to rub up against your constricting walls. 

Honestly, it was just so much. You felt stuffed. 

“F-feels like m’gonna explode.” you mewl at the heady thump! thump! thump! shuddering all across your body - and you didn’t know whether it was because of the thundering pulse in your ears, because of the way Toji’s fingers were crashing and thrusting against your tender g-spot. His neatly cut fingernails glide soaking wet grazes over and over in a sloppy staccato. “Ah! Right there, it f-feels so good-”

“Tch, you think I don’t know?” Toji’s rolling his eyes, muttering his words into your sopping slit. His free hand comes slamming down in a harsh smack! against your ass to make you lug against his face faster. “Ride yourself on me, ma.”

You stumble through it - yearning for more. 

“Faster.”

“I-I’m trying.’”

But it wasn’t enough. Obviously. 

And Toji’s impatiently revolving one hand around the curve of your waist to make you press down hard in the most sultry gyrations. Around and around it had him hypnotized. “Not tryin’ hard ‘nough. Cuz this pretty lady h-here’s just crying to cum, doll. Ya hear her?”

How could you not?

It’s all that you replay in your mind. Accompanied with a shot ngh ngh ngh that was curdling at the very back of Toji’s throat. Whispered into every graze of his tongue down your slit, you took a quick glance backwards to catch the way that he was properly fucking his fist now. 

Long, thorough drags down his achy cock to bead out wet sloshes of precum. Only getting faster. Sloppier. Red and angry-

“Shit.” you’re whimpering, hands steadying on either side of his bulging deltoids. It felt like your very bones were rattling along with the vibrator. Nails digging in to the muscle, “I th-think m’close- think m’gonna-”

And oh Toji’s eyes stray to the back of his head at how reminiscent this was of just yesterday. Snickering a heavy, “You ‘think’? I know she’s so fuckin’ close. Can feel her. Isn’t she? Gonna cum? Gonna make a ngh- mess on me, is she?”

Answeringly, he’s leaving another few smacks! on your mound that have your gooey walls fluttering, the double penetration of both the buzzing bullet and his fingers too much. Too close. You feel every delicate bundle of your nerves exasperate. 

And it’s impossible not to mumble out drunkenly - embarrassingly. “Sh-she is.”

It’s so rough.

Both your release and the way that Toji was fucking you through it - because the very moment he hears your breath hitch in a saturated manner similar to last time, he’s tugging out your buzzing vibrator and toppling it somewhere over the bed. Replacing it with every long inch of his heated tongue- 

Like hell he’d have you cumming on some damn plastic before his tongue.

“Shit- it feels so-” Barely managing to formulate the words into coherent syllables. Your body convulses when he swiftly pecks your pretty clit with the rose toy instead. “-so good- ngh! M’cumming m’cumming ah-”

Toji’s fucking you through your high with the double stimulation of his fingers and his tongues spreading open your snug insides mercilessly. Ruthlessly. Wave upon wave of pleasure that had your toes curling, vision flashing white. Sensitive pussy dredging up from the very bottom of his sharp chin all the way up to his button nose. 

It’s adorable how tired you were already, already huffing and puffing for breath. He could almost laugh if he didn’t have a mouthful already.

“Yeah tha’s right-” he slurps, more than talks. Thick digits curling tight and thumbing over his twitchy divot to wall up that velvety wisp of cum from escape. Leaving kiss after kiss to have your drooling cunt ride his sexy features faster. “-give it t’me.” Greedy. “Give it alllll to me.”

But even that didn’t seem like enough.

Because even after your aggressive orgasm was petering out into mere tingles at your quivering pussy, even after he’d slurped up every tiny drop of your honeyed juices - Toji Fushiguro was starved. 

So completely ravenous when he speaks, “I think…she’s sayin she wants ta squirt, doll.”

“Wh-what?” you’re breathing - you didn’t even know if that was possible.

With a surprising amount of gentleness, Toji’s placing you to sit all prettily on his spread legs. Just slobbering your pussy lips in an innocent smooch over his hardness. 

“Heh, what? Don’t trust me?” Toji cocks his head down at you in sheer smugness, a glistening gloss stained all around his lips. It made him look so fucked-out. And he felt like he already was - but Toji wouldn’t admit that. No, he’s only murmuring a wet, “Or are ya scared that m’gonna get ya ah- addicted?”

You showcase him with a slight pout that makes his riled-up cock twitch in one hand. That makes him immediately kiss it away - letting you taste him. Taste yourself. 

It’d already taken everything in him to stop himself from cumming just by making out with your cunt. 

“No s’just that- I’ve never squirted before…”

His words are sure. Confident. He’s echoing them from not too long ago, “Lemme take a look at that.”

And apparently Toji’s definition of taking a look is to slide the curve of his thick thumb in-between your dribbling slit. Up and down until his lips curl in a smile, “Well she’s tellin’ me that she can-oh shit, look at that.” Those very same fingers wrapping around the hilt of his thick cock to nudge your folds apart. “So why don’t I fix that, hm?”

God, Toji is so much bigger than he looked - which was staggering considering his sheer bulge was enough to send your mind reeling.

The curve of his fat tip bathes in a few more of your syrupy drops before bullying inside-

“O-oh my god-” Your voice wavers, sweat simmering all down your body at how dizzyingly Toji was spearheading your cunt open. Wide. So much of him that you didn’t know whether to buck your hips away or down for more, more, more- “S’too big- shit, don’t even know if I can ngh- t-take it, Toji–!”

“Oh, say my name like that once more n’ you’re gonna ah- hafta take every inch.” he grunts out, snarling smile making your gummy walls flutter around him. 

You’re being fed every solid inch, Toji’s girth making your tight circumference stutter. Gaping your sloppy hole wide open around his expanding cock- shit, just the slightest peak into your heavenly depths was enough to have his fat length swelling. Pushing into your tender sweet spots when he grows. 

“Y-you got even bigger?” you gasp, and it makes him cackle.

Throwing his head back to laugh, “Of course I got f-fuckin’ bigger when you feel like this, ma.” And two of his roughened palms glide their greedy pathway downwards to spread your thighs even further. Using gravity to his lewd advantage to help you gulp down your every mindless grind to simply fit himself inside. “W-where have ya been all my life.”

And Toji sounded like he was genuinely distraught that he didn’t know. 

He was genuinely so upset, lower lip wobbling with pure bliss once your overstuffed pussy was resting on his sharp hip bones. Giving an experimental little gyration of his hips to swirl his shaft around your walls, it makes you whine. 

“Tha’s what m’fuckin’ talking about.”

And then in a split-second, you’re being slammed onto your back and wrangled into the meanest mating press you never thought possible. 

It’s like Toji was out of control. 

Feral.

A slight trickle of drool trailing down the edge of his growling lips, “Shit- take my fucking cock ngh- take it all, doll. Ya don’t know how long I’ve been d-dreaming of this.”

“Yes yes yes-” you sputter. Edging your uselessly limp thighs to lock around Toji’s straining neck - and if he was going easy on you before. Then oh, you weren’t ready for the way this makes him snap his flexing body down to fold you in half. His sweat-beaded forehead knocking gently into yours, “-been ah- been dreamin’ of this ever since I m-moved in-”

Shit.

The thick pudge of Toji’s relentless head careens into the bullseye of your g-spot easily. And Toji titters to himself about the pretty moans that drag from your shot throat - that is, if he had the self-control.

Because your previous words were still thundering in his pussydrunken mind, and it makes him gasp. It makes him shoot his eyes open almost comically, it makes him crash his lips into your with a sullen hiss. “Give a man a fuck- warning. You c-can’t just say- things- like- that-”

As if to prove his point, he’s planting a few more heated French kisses against your sweetest spots. How he mapped them out so quickly you had no idea. 

His feverish breath hovers over your own mouth, gusts bounding out with every pound into your cunt. He’s bruising the circular branding of his sobbing tip down your spongy cervix, a tiny ah! of disappointment leaving Toji’s stern lips at the recoil that had him pushing back from the very bottom of your pussy. 

He’s so filthy. 

“Because what if–” It takes you a few seconds to realize that he’s still babbling drunkenly, flicking over a calloused thumb over your clit to get your delirious attention. “-are ya listening, woman? What- ah- what if I told ya I was the fuckin’ same. Wanted to f-fuck this cute cunt the moment I saw ya, wanted to ruin her- to breed her-”

And just when he’s heaving in such a sharp inhale. As if he’s spoken too much.

Yet, even through the way that Toji was fucking you stupid - you still manage to latch onto his words. 

“Y-you wanted to ah- cum inside?” you’re blinking up at him innocently in a way that only made his hips jackhammer against yours harder. Teasing your sensitive clit with a pinch. “Tell me, Toji.”

God- you said his name. 

Shit shit shit, didn’t he tell you not to-

“Yes!” Toji’s shuddering out, hefty balls twitching and thwacking their tight, cum-filled sacks against your ass. He’s fucking you so wildly. The mating press that he had you in let him glide a wet thrust down every single nook and cranny inside you. Every forbidden sweet spot. “Wanted- wanted it so badly- ah-”

Batting your teary lashes, “How badly?”

Two of Toji’s mean fingers come up to smush your cheeks together into an embarrassing pout, and he’s using that cutely ajar opening of your mouth to spit. A thick, honeyed wad of saliva that purposefully splatters along the edge of your lips - because Toji had perfect aim. He could’ve streamlined it all neatly between your lips.

But you looked and tasted so sweet this way.

When he could just kiss it away filthily with a drag of his tongue, “Shit- what a filthy fuckin’ mouth. Ya really know how to m-make me lose my mind, hm?” Splaying out one large palm about halfway down your stomach, he’s exploring for a lewd cylindrical nudge. A throb when his thickened head was smashing into your g-spot. “If ya i-insist- m’gonna fill ya up until I can feel it-” Pressing down. Hard. “Here.” And now he’s running his mouth a mile a minute, he’s dazed where his cadence grows sloppy. “Until you’re overspilling. Until yer all r-round and hngh- glowing and shit-”

God, he was flying too close to the sun.

Egging him on, he was fucking you into the bed like he was furious at you. Lurching out rickety creaks from the bedframe at his riotous slams! Teasing, “S-s’that it?”

“Is that it? I-is that it?” he’s repeating. Over and over like a humorless mantra. “No tha’s not- ah- fucking ‘it’. M’gonna shit- make you mine. Gonna fuck a b-baby or two into ya.” Shockwaves of electric white flashing down his spine when your gripping walls cling around him like a velvety channel. Stumbling through words, “So they’re gonna know- ah- th-they’re all gonna know what I did. Hah- how I ruined ya…”

You can only sob, “Toji– m’gonna-”

Stimulating tears gather up beside Toji’s eyelids with every pressurized ram, and he finds it in himself to rasp a drunken giggle. “G-gonna give Megumi a lil’ sibling, ma?”

He doesn’t have to hear your response, he doesn’t think he can. Because no sooner are you crashing into your orgasm that Toji is as well. 

He realizes before you - far, far before you at how you were squirting. 

Drizzling your juices in a coating gloss down his cock, his abs, some spattering up to Toji’s lips. He took a look into it alright. 

Your bolting waves of bliss intruded by his rummaging cock. Twitching once. Twice. Before struggling out thick gushes of sweltering hot seed. 

It’s splattering onto the very back of your bruised and battered cervix in a wet thwack! Oozing out the sides of your silt, you feel your gummy walls being inflated. The tug of ribbons upon ribbons of cum being fucked into sloshes inside and coats your melty walls like a second, sticky skin.

THUD!

Toji collapses onto his wearied forearms, caging you in with his big beefy biceps. Hips slowing down to tiny, subconscious ruts wrenching out the most obscene wet squelches. “Th-the heh- the fuckin’ bed.”

Only then are you batting your fatigued eyes open to realize that one side of the bed was sagging dangerously. “Toji did you b-break the bed?”

“Ah- so what?” And he’s scooping up your pliant body easily into his arms. Lifting you. Manhandling you. Pulling out of your split cunt for just a second to slam! you down onto your nearby work desk. The cool mahogany against your front makes you hiss, “I’ll jus’ t-take a ah- look at it.”

With this, he’s pressing down on the slightly bloated area near your cunt. Gaping. Gushing out thick remnants of his cum - it’s like he was playing around. 

The sight so heavenly that with a dragged-out gasp he’s finding his weepy cock blast out a few more wispy strands of cum. Shit.

“Shit- marry me-” Toji’s throwing his head back with a whimper - a whimper - when his jolting cock veers dangerously into the territory of shooting overstimulated blanks. “Marry me I-I swear. Gonna ah- put a pretty ring on ya, my doll.”

Which is why he’s swirling around his greedy pointer around your gaping entrance. Toying with the creamy ring of seed that’d painted its way around his thick base. Toji pools a few creamy dredges on his fingers and shoves them into your babbling mouth. “Ngh- Toji–!”

“Nowww, let’s see ngh- already finished off th-the bed-” he’s rattling off. Counting on a few fingers of his, “-we have the ohhh fuck- don’t squeeze m-me like that, ma, m’still sensitive- this desk, the floor- the dryer.”

“The dryer?” you mewl. “But you j-jus’ fixed that-”

“Ah, consider it a lil’ payment…along with those panties of yours, of course.”

And it’s only later. 

Hours and hours later, with your bed frame broken on one leg, your desk absolutely shattered, and your carpet soiled with a few whiteish rivulets that you’re finding yourself seated into a tight full nelson on top of the dryer. Toji still splitting you apart inside, shooting blanks before the front door rattles with a sudden knock! knock! knock! 

A deep voice resounding from outside, “Anybody home? It’s Shiu Kong. Higuruma sent me here to fix the dryer.”

“Fuckin’ Shiu…wanna let him in?”

---

“Hello, Shiu? How did the fixing go?” It’s by the next day that Higuruma gets a call in the middle of his important business meeting. One that would probably stay with him for a long, long time. “What do you mean the dryer is broken beyond repair?!”

A/N. Hope you all have a lovely week <3

Plagiarism not authorized.

[classyrbf]

THAT D!CK IS A 10/10! — JJK MEN

SYNOPSIS...an analysis on the jjk men’s dicks just because hehe :)

INFO...jjk men x gn!reader, we’re talking about cock and balls a lot (no seriously), cum analysis, where they like to cum, heavy detail (be warned), im trying to make this a little realistic so no, gojo will not have a 12 inch dick (sorry not sorry), not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

here’s a little something while I’m being a busy bee and dealing with life (help me)

GOJO

to start off, gojo isn’t too big or isn’t small either, if anything he’s just perfect (cause he is perfect duh). He’s around 3 inches soft and 6.6 inches hard. Listen, as much as I want to make this man have the hugest dick ever, he does not and it’d cause an extreme amount of pain every time he is pounding you. He’s not too girthy either, just the average 4.3. His also slightly curves upward which is perfect for hitting your sweet spot. But he’s super sensitive on the tip! So if you tease him too much there he might just cum prematurely. His balls are definitely a decent size too, they may be on the bigger side a little but he loves to have his balls played with so have fun! When gojo cums, he cums a lot! It literally will go all over the place if he can’t control it correctly. It’s spurts out in waves and it sometimes it’s like torture cause it makes his orgasms last longer but god does it feel so good. His cum is sort of thin and runny instead of thick and goopy with a slight salty taste.

NANAMI

i personally feel like nanami is fucking packing girth wise! He is slightly smaller than gojo around like 5.75-6 inches but he is fucking girthy! It’s like a damn weapon and it’s heavy (I’ll help you carry it around nanami, don’t you worry). His girth is around 5.5-6 inches and it’s veiny! Lord help us all because he knows how to use that thing, hitting all the right angles. From being so girthy his cock slightly hangs…So what comes with a fat cock? Big breeder balls! Duh! His balls are so fat and big it’s like an instinct to suck and lick on them. He leaks a lot of precum when he’s hard so it just drips from his cock until he cums so hard. Speaking of cum, unlike gojo he has more of a thicker consistency, and instead of spurting out all over, it just flows from his cock and it’s looks so pretty like a fountain. It drips all down his cock and balls and onto his hand if he’s jerking himself off. When he’s fucking you, he definitely cums inside and just fucks his cum into you over and over until he makes a big mess.

TOJI

my man, my man, my man! Toji is definitely bigger than nanami and gojo but only by like 1-2 inches. So he’s around 7 inches which is still scary bc why are just walking around with that? He’s definitely girthy too but not like nanami, he’s more girthy around the tip of his cock and it gets slightly smaller towards the base but it’s not a huge difference. He’s tip gets really pink and red when he’s hard that it almost looks painful (don’t worry baby I’m on my way to help) but I promise he’s fine. Dare I say that doesn’t trim that often???? I feel like he has a slightly bush, nothing too crazy but it’s kind of grown out. He doesn’t care (me neither) as long as he gets laid he’s fine. His balls are mix of nanami and gojos but they hang! So when he’s fucking you they definitely slap against your skin. When toji cums it’s pretty normal, it’s sometimes shoots out a little bit and then slows down after, but it’s definitely a good amount of cum that does come out quickly. He loves to see your face or your chest covered in it because he’s a pervy little bastard for sure.

GETO

pretty boy geto hehe…let’s just say that thing curves to the left okay? He’s around 6.5-7 inches and girthy so let’s pray for everyone’s holes cause I don’t think we are making it out alive. He’s somewhere between nanami’s and Toji’s girth so…do what you will with that info. His dick is so pretty though, a pretty dick for a pretty face, the curtains match the drapes yk? He has two prominent veins that run on the underside of his dick where he’s really sensitive. If you look closely you’ll see them pulsing when he’s hard. His tip is also a very pretty pink color while his shaft and base are slightly darker than his skin tone. His balls aren’t too big either so it’s definitely more about his dick. He doesn’t cum a lot either surprisingly, he’s never been the cum everywhere and get super messy type of person but if hasnt had sex or jerked off it’ll be more than usual.

CHOSO

choso is closer to nanamis size, maybe a little smaller but not a huge difference. His is pretty average but there is nothing wrong with that (can I get free ride???). Just like geto he also has a very pink tip and his shaft is the same color as his skin. His girth is around Gojo’s but he has some big balls that are just asking to licked and sucked fr. Baby boy gets so whiny when he’s hard and leaking that he’s almost embarrassed by it, he tries to control it but he literally can’t stop getting so hard to point it drives him insane. His cum is stringy and thick, like the perfect consistency for cumming on your face, chest, ass, literally anywhere. He cums a normal amount, usually spurts out super quickly and then slows down towards the end of his orgasm.

SUKUNA

where do I even begin??? Clearly, this mf is the biggest out of all of them. He’s scary asf because he has two, yes, two dicks that are practically identical. 8-9 inches long, 4.7 girth. End my life. THIS MF GOT 4 LEGS. It’s actually cruel. They’re thicker towards the base and gradually get narrow towards the tip. So at first, the stretch doesn’t seem that bad until you realize you got about 7 inches more to go…yeah. His cocks are darker than the rest of his body and his tips are sort of like a light pink/tan color. The only difference between his cocks is that one is super veiny and the other quite literally has like 3 veins. Fat breeder balls that hang, swing, touch the floor (I’m jk) but literally the mix of toji and nanamis balls. They hold so much cum, he can literally go round for round back to back and fill up every hole of yours without taking a break. And he cums so much that it’s actually concerning. Like nanami, its overflows maybe once in a while it will shoot out.

HIGURUMA

believe it or not I think this man is packing at least 7-8 inches. It may not look like it but I think he does! He never brags about it either so it’s really hard to guess. When he’s hard his dick touches his belly button…and his balls are somewhere between Geto’s and Gojo’s size so they’re kinda average. The color is slightly tan maybe like one shade darker and he has a pale pink tip. Did I mention he has a fat tip?? It seems like it gets even bigger when he’s hard, all swollen and everything. His girth is pretty average too like Gojo’s maybe slightly bigger like 4.5 but that’s it. Higuruma doesn’t cum that much it like toji where it’s a pretty normal amount. His cum isn’t super white either, it’s kind of on the clear side and super stringy which is perfect for cumming on your tongue imo

[rafesangelita]

౨ৎ ˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 rafe is tired, but never too tired to have pretty little sheep!reader bouncing on his cock <3

warnings: dealer!rafe, light fluff, sleepy sex, riding & reverse cowgirl, dirty talk, praise, spanking, hair pulling, use of the name ‘daddy’, tit sucking

a/n: sheep!reader has been getting heavily requested.. so ask and you shall receive! i’ll be giving longer fics a small break until my pogue!sweetheart!reader series is done because my brain is actually going to explode lol

nothing felt better than coming home to you after a long day of bullshit and seeing you in nothing but those cute thigh high socks of yours. especially when you were so needy and willing to do all of the work. you’d give rafe what felt like a thousand kisses all over his face, his arms wrapped around your waist as you gushed about how much you missed him and thought about him all day. “yeah? i missed you more.” you’d smile at his words, quickly getting him out of his clothes.

you massaged the tension out of his shoulders and left trails of kisses along his skin, your boyfriend growing more relaxed as your skilled hands worked to get him unwinded. by the time you were finished, he was barely able to keep his eyes open, his heavy-lidded gaze meeting yours. “what do you want, baby? you’ve been looking at me like you got something on your mind..” your cheeks heated in response, his fingers dancing along your flesh.

“i know you’re tired.. but can i get on top?” a lazy smile made its way to rafe’s lips before he pulled you onto his lap.

“fuck, yeah.”

those two words were all the confirmation you needed, your shaky hands planted on rafe’s thighs as you moved on top of him, his cock filling you to the hilt. watching you move so fluidly on top of him was enough to make his eyes roll to the back of his head, the sight of your soaked cunt gripping him with every drag of your hips drew more moans from him than the last. “ah, f-fuck! you’re just taking that shit..” rafe was mesmerized, his large palm resting in the curve of thigh.

you cried out when his hand came down on the globe of your ass, a stinging sensation spreading across your sensitive skin. “riding me dumb, huh?” rafe grunted, wrapping a fist in your hair before pulling you back against his chest. you were arched almost painfully in this position, his teeth nipping at the sensitive skin of your neck. “poor baby, here by herself all day..” you whimpered, his free hand snaking down your tummy until he had your clit pinched between his fingers.

you shrieked, white, hot pleasure blinding your vision. rafe knew your body like the back of his hand. he knew what would have you yelping in pain, and what would make you all soft and warm like putty in his hands. “riding daddy makes you so fucking wet,” your hips stuttered when rafe starting rubbing hard circles on your sensitive bundle of nerves, a sharp gasp leaving your lips at the lewdness of his words, “just letting me use you like the cock slut you are, right?”

“y-yes!” you whimpered, sighing in relief when he let your hair go. “make yourself cum, ‘pretty girl, let me feel you.” rafe watched as you leaned forward, your back arching deliciously as you bounced on his length. your ass met rafe’s thighs in rhythmic claps, the sound making both of you moan. “turn around, precious, ‘needa see that pretty face.” you slid off of him for a moment, finally swinging a leg over his lap before sinking back down on his cock.

pushing his face into your chest, you whined when you felt him take one of your tits in his mouth, his tongue circling around the sensitive bud. he licked and sucked as you worked to make both of you cum. you relished in these moments when you two were panting into each other’s mouths, skin hot and burning with fiery need and desire, never wanting it to end. rafe’s abs constricted as he inched closer and closer to his climax, your thighs aching for a break.

“don’t fucking stop..” rafe dug his fingers in the flesh of your hips, “oh, my god, don’t stop!” he repeated, your eyes brimming with tears as your clit slapped against his pubic bone. as soon as you doubled over, your head falling against his shoulder, rafe knew the band in your tummy finally snapped, his own orgasm hitting him at the same time. embracing you tightly, rafe thrusted up from below you so you could just cum without keeping up your pace.

you shook against him, tears rolling down your cheek and onto his collarbone as you reveled in each wave of pure bliss. rafe’s mouth stayed open, his eyes screwing shut as you milked him for all that he had. eventually, you two came to a stop, your breaths being the only sound in the room. if rafe felt tired before, he was even more drained now.. literally. nothing beat his pretty thing of a girlfriend taking his load at the end of the night.

[incognit0slut]

Angel

PART 5 OF KINKTOBER | MAIN MASTERLIST

Single Dad!Spencer x Nanny!Reader Spencer likes having you around to look after his daughter, in fact, he likes you a bit too much.

content: (18+) 5.4k, breeding kink, fingering, fem oral, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, overstimulation, d/s dynamic but he still tries to be a gentleman although reader doesn’t want him to, mutual pining, body worship with slight religious metaphors bc he’s down so bad, and of course sweet aftercare a/n: 1) i know the gif isn’t spencer but i just had to; 2) i changed the title from the original plan bc i was listening to angel baby while writing this; 3) if i have the chance to describe his happy trail and tummy i will in a heartbeat; 4) this fic is basically the epitome of D-I-L-F!

“I want you to understand,” he mutters against your skin, kissing the sensitive spot just below your ear, “that I’m not trying to take advantage of you.”

A hand creeps up the back of his neck. “What if I want you to?”

“I’m serious.”

“I am serious. I’m not the one hesitating.”

His hand glides slowly up your side, fingertips barely ghosting over your skin, and a soft, shaky breath escapes his lips. “I’m trying to be responsible."

“I think we’re past being responsible,” you counter as his fingers trace your waist. “What are you so worried about, anyway? You’re not forcing me into anything.”

“I want to make sure you don’t feel like—” his fingers twitch, lingering over your bare skin, “—like I’m taking advantage of the situation.”

“I’m literally naked under you,” you remind him. “If anyone’s taking advantage here, it’s me.”

His forehead drops to your shoulder, and you feel the slow rise and fall of his chest as he exhales. “You’re making this really hard, you know that?”

“That’s kind of the point.”

And it’s true, Spencer realizes with a rush of heat, because he’s incredibly hard, the heavy length of his cock pressed against your stomach while he braces his weight above you. His lungs tighten, squeezing around breaths that feel too thick to swallow as his teeth graze his lower lip. It takes everything in him to keep from losing himself when his mind is already slipping.

How could he have ever imagined it would go this far?

Spencer can’t quite make sense of how this quiet, unassuming crush that crept in the first time he saw you with his daughter has led to this. It wasn’t anything grand or sudden, just this slow bloom that unfurled every time he caught you reading to Violet or laughing with her over some little joke in the living room. There was just something about the way you slipped so easily into his life, fitting into the spaces he hadn’t realized were empty until you filled them.

He’d never let himself imagine it would go beyond that. He’d convinced himself those feelings for you were just something he’d have to live with quietly, a small ache that would fade with time. But somehow, despite his best efforts to keep it hidden, you’d found your way to him. And against all his expectations, you liked him back. You like him enough that you’re now wearing nothing but a smile.

Flushed skin kissed by the moonlight spilling through the window.

Innocent eyes touched with a hint temptation.

It all feels like some sort of surreal dream.

The moment that led to this replays in his mind, clear as daylight even if it happened well past midnight. He’d gotten home somewhere between too late and way too late, running on nothing but caffeine and sugar, and there you were, leaning casually against the kitchen counter like it was the most natural thing in the world.

You started talking about your day with Violet, recounting how you’d taken her to the park, read her favorite book before bed, and how she’d peppered you with endless questions about why the sky changes colors when the day changes into night. But something was different in your voice, a softness to the way you said his name, and your gaze lingered on him just a beat longer than usual. It wasn’t anything obvious, nothing he could point to and say that’s it, but he felt it. An almost imperceptible shift in the air.

Before he knew it, he had crossed the room and kissed you. He should’ve thought it through or paused to consider the consequences, but the way you responded made it clear you’d been waiting just as long for his attention.

His shoulders fall with a quiet exhale.

“This could get complicated,” he continues, as if reminding you (and maybe himself) that there’s a line between employee and employer that he’s about to cross. A line that could change everything between you both once it’s blurred. “We should think about what this means.”

“We’ve had plenty of time to think. If you wanted to stop, you would’ve done it already.”

“I don’t think you understand what I’m trying to say.”

“Then please enlighten me.”

Instead of answering right away, he leans in, his lips finding the curve of your neck. His breath is warm against your skin, and then he’s gently pulling the tender flesh between his lips that draws a sudden moan from your throat. The sound seems to fuel him, and before you can even register what’s happening, his fingers are already slipping lower, exploring the soft space between your thighs.

“What if I want more than this?” His fingers inch closer, teasingly brushing against your heat with a slowness that borders on torment. “What if I want everything?”

Your hips buck against his hand. “Everything?”

“Everything,” he confirms. “Not just tonight.”

The words send a ripple of electricity that blooms deep in your core. When his fingers finally slip between your folds, a sharp gasp escapes your lips before you can hold it back.

“You… you mean you want… more than this? More than just us… here?”

“Yes,” he replies, his voice catching like gravel in his throat as his fingers trace over the slickness he’s found. “Does that scare you?”

For a moment, words fail you. The slow, coaxing rhythm of his fingers pulls you deeper into a haze where coherent thoughts are hard to grasp. There’s a pause, a heartbeat where he stops. Waiting.

“No,” you confess, the truth slipping out more easily than you expected. “It doesn’t.”

He pulls back just enough to meet your eyes. “It doesn’t?”

Your lungs expand, filling with a rush of oxygen and a nervous flutter that lands somewhere in the pit of your stomach. “I think this is the right time to tell you I’ve had a crush on you for a while.”

Spencer stays motionless for a beat. Then something shifts—his gaze softens, and a small, almost incredulous smile curves his lips. “You have a crush on me?”

“Yeah.”

“As in… you have feelings for me?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“So you’re not just… turned on right now?”

“Well, that too,” you admit with a grin, your fingers brushing the back of his neck. “But it’s more than that. I really like you.”

His smile widens, and his fingers begin to move again, circling your clit with just the right pressure to pull a sharp intake of breath from you. It’s as though your confession is a final green light he’d been waiting for. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Your teeth catch your lip, struggling to hold back fragments of breath. “I thought it was obvious,” you manage between heavy exhales. “Why do you think I always stay late?"

"To avoid traffic?"

You huff. "I tried to be around you as much as possible, Spencer."

His fingers toy at the edge of your entrance, tracing the slick, warm wetness that clings to his skin as a quiet hum rumbles in his chest. “You know I’m not always the best at picking up social cues.”

“You’re a profiler.” Your breath catches halfway between a gasp and a sigh when he slides a finger in. “You're supposed to notice everything."

He lets your words settle, eyes narrowing slightly as he turns them over in his mind.

“I guess I was too focused on trying not to cross any lines to see the ones you were trying to draw."

A soft moan escapes your lips as another finger slides in.

“I'm… glad you finally caught on."

"I'm catching on now.”

His eyes drop to the way your body greedily takes his fingers. The sight alone sends a rush of heat straight to his gut like a line of fire winding up through his chest and spreading into his limbs. You’re dripping, the slick sound of your arousal nearly derails him as he continues to watch the wetness coat his fingers with every slow thrust.

“Since when have you had this crush?” He asks curiously.

There’s a beat of silence, only punctuated by the soft, breathy noises escaping you. When he finally looks up, he catches the way your face scrunches in pleasure, brows furrowed and eyes barely open, and he can’t help but find it almost unbearably adorable. The corners of his lips twitch with a quiet laugh before he leans in, pressing the softest it’s okay, you can tell me kiss against your lips.

“Since when?”

You blink your eyes open at his question, and there’s a flush of embarrassment in your cheeks.

“Since—” you start, but your voice catches when he curls his fingers slightly, and you bite down on your lip to keep from moaning. He raises an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a barely-contained grin.

“Since?” he prompts again.

You swallow the lump tightening in your throat. “Since you interviewed me for the job."

He absorbs your words. "That’s… more than a while."

"It was innocent at the time," you confess, trying to regain some control over your thoughts. "Just a silly little crush."

His pace quickens, fingers plunging deeper, and whatever sense of composure you had left is slipping away piece by piece. “What changed?”

Desperation claws at you with every passing second, your hips moving against his hand as you scramble to gather your thoughts. But the way his fingers are mapping every sensitive spot makes it nearly impossible to articulate anything coherent. He doesn’t miss the way your breath stutters, or how your words break apart into fragmented attempts to answer.

“I-I—” you stammer, wincing as the words catch in your throat before you finally manage to continue, “I probably shouldn’t say…”

“Why not?”

“It’s embarrassing."

He lets out a soft laugh. “Tell me anyway,” he urges. “I want to hear it.”

You fall quiet again, and the only sounds that fill the space between you is the ragged pull of your breaths and the slick rhythm of his fingers pumping lazily inside you. The words sit heavy on your tongue, threatening to disappear if you don’t say them quickly enough.

"Remember when… you taught Violet how to… ride her bike?”

He tilts his head slightly. There’s a furrow in his brow as he searches your face. “You’re going to have to be more specific, there were a lot of lessons.”

“The very first time.”

“Ah,” he muses. “Around June, then.”

You nod. “When I… saw you with her that day, I-I… I got curious.”

His fingers falter, just slightly, the subtle pause enough to show that you’ve grabbed his attention. “Curious?”

“Yeah,” you whisper. “You were so adorable with her… and I started thinking about what it would be like… to have your kids.”

If there was ever a moment to leave him utterly speechless, this was it. His brain seems to stall, the gears grinding to a halt as the reality of what you’ve said settles in. He’s spent so much time trying to be the one holding it all together, but now? Now all he could picture was you holding a baby—his baby—and the thought sent his mind reeling, knocking him off balance in a way he didn’t expect.

“You… thought about that?”

Your fingers trails his shoulder before slipping up into his hair, curling gently at the nape of his neck. “It crossed my mind more than once.”

“That’s—” wow. He leans his forehead against yours. “Not embarrassing. At all.”

“Really?”

“That’s probably the hottest thing I've ever heard in my life.”

You let out a soft chuckle, gently pulling on his curls before drawing his bottom lip into a gentle suck. “It’s never been innocent since then.”

Goosebumps rises along his skin, and the heat pooling low in his stomach tightens as he grows impossibly harder. “Yeah?”

“I’ve wanted you to fuck me for a long time.”

His jaw clenches.

He’s so close to completely losing it.

“You shouldn’t say things like that,” he mutters, pressing his fingers deeper inside you.

“Why.. why not?”

“Because I might give you exactly what you want.” When he feels you clench around him, he huffs in amusement. “Oh, you like that, don’t you?”

There’s a tender spot he finds deep inside, one that feels achingly sensitive, and your mouth falls open, a soundless gasp escaping before you can catch it.

“You really mean it,” he says, more a realization than a question, as he watches your body go pliant beneath his touch.

“I do,” you manage to say.

“You want me that way?”

You nod frantically. “Want your cum in me.”

The second those words leave your lips, his groan rumbles through his chest, and you swallow it down as his mouth crashes into yours. The kiss is messy, teeth clashing and tongues tangling in a chaotic rhythm that’s both desperate and needy. When he finally pulls away, you’re left panting, your lips swollen, his forehead resting against yours.

“Never would’ve guessed you had such a dirty mouth."

"There's a lot of thing you don't know about me."

His breath brushes against your lips as he whispers, “I’m starting to figure that out.”

When he slowly withdraws his fingers, you can’t help the soft whimper that escapes your throat. Your eyes follow his every move as he sits up and settles between your thighs. You’ve always thought Spencer was an attractive man, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t admired the way his shirts fit just snug enough to hint at what was underneath. But seeing him naked like this? That was a whole new level of breathtaking.

Your gaze trails down his frame, landing on the soft curve of his stomach, something you'd secretly adored every time it pressed against his dress shirts. It was even more captivating without anything hiding it now, especially with the trail of dark hair leading down. Soft, scattered strands, drawing your eyes right to the place where you can’t help but stare.

He gives himself a slow pump. Once. Twice. And then, finally, you feel the firm pressure of his tip pressing between your folds.

“Are you sure?” he asks, the head of his cock sliding over your sensitive skin. “There's a condom in my drawer."

Your body tenses at the thought of him pulling back, and without thinking, your hand reaches between the two of you, wrapping around his cock before he can pull away. “When was the last time you got tested?”

He exhales sharply. “A few months ago,” he mutters, hips twitching against your grip despite himself. “If there was any risk, I wouldn’t even consider this without telling you.”

“I got tested last month,” you assure him quickly. “We’re both safe.”

He nods absentmindedly. “We can… still grab the condom if you want…”

“Spencer,” you interrupt, gently brushing the bead of precum that had formed at his tip. “I thought I made it clear I want you to cum inside me.”

He can only stare as your delicate finger trails along the thick vein. It feels like all the oxygen he’s desperately clinging to has been sucked from his lungs.

“I know you said you don’t want to take advantage of me…” you continue, guiding him right to your entrance. “But I really want you to.”

He finally lets out a low, gruff sound, something between a growl and a sigh as he slowly pushes himself in. His eyes are locked on the sight of your walls stretching to accommodate his size, watching as your body struggles to take him.

"You should stop talking like that," he rasps through gritted teeth. "I’m barely holding it together."

"Here's another thing you should know about me.”

He ruts gently into you. A push. A pull.

A heartbeat in between.

“I really like it rough."

That’s all it takes.

He slams his hips into yours.

Intense doesn’t even begin to describe what he feels. It’s more like a surge, a rush of heat and desperation that floods every inch of him the same time you cry out. His throat tightens, constricting around breaths he can’t seem to catch as he resorts to inhaling sharply through his nose.

“Jesus… you feel so—” His words falter, his voice rough and breathless as his fingers figs into your skin. His chest rises and falls with each labored breaths, and his eyes squeezes shut for a moment.

Tight. Warm. Wet. That’s exactly how you feel.

"Perfect." His large hands grips your waist. “You’re perfect.”

You mewl at his words, the sound spilling from your lips before you can stop it, and the soft, needy noise is enough to make his eyes flicker open. He begins to pull back, just enough to make you whimper from the sudden loss of contact, but before you can catch your breath, he snaps his hips forward with a rough, powerful thrust.

Your hands fly to his arms, holding onto him tightly. "Spencer… Please…”

He lets out a sigh.

No man is immune to that tone of desperation, least of all Spencer. Not when you’re offering yourself to him like something out of a dream. Not when your eyes lock onto his with a look that belongs more to an angel—if angels could be so helpless and desperate. Because what angel pleads with every breath for more?

What angel cries out as he holds your hips firmly in place and thrusts with a force that drives you to the brink of sanity?

He’s mesmerized. His eyes track the way your breasts bounce with each snap of his hips. There’s something almost greedy in the way his gaze roams over you, but it’s when he locks onto where your bodies meet that he really loses himself. A glossy ring coats his cock each time he pulls out, and when he pushes back in, the friction between your bodies creates a lewd, wet sound that fills the room.

He laughs. Not out of mockery, but out of sheer delight.

You’re an angel wrapped in sin.

“I can’t—oh god, right there—” Your nails leave little crescents moon on his skin. “You’re so… so deep.”

You’re really testing his limits, and Spencer knows he’s very far from a violent man, but right now, the temptation to cover your mouth with his hand is becoming dangerously real. Although with the way you’re writhing beneath him, rolling your hips to meet his thrusts, he’s sure you’d probably enjoy it.

“Spencer…”

His balls slaps your ass as he slams into you.

“O-Oh—fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

He squeezes your waist tightly. “Already?”

“Ngh.”

Your grip loosens on his arm, and before he can fully process what’s happening, your fingers dance along your clit. It takes all his willpower not to spill into you right then and there when he feels you tighten around him in response. But he holds on, because he needs you to cum first. He needs to feel your velvety walls flutter along the rigid veins of his cock, needs to watch the way your body tenses with pleasure.

He needs to feel it more than once.

He lets you have your first orgasm. Although letting seems like the wrong word. There’s nothing passive about it. He’s making you cum, driving you to it with each calculated thrust. You’re toying with your clit, rubbing in frantic circles just like you do whenever you touch yourself with the thought of him, but this time, it’s even more intense. This time, he’s inside you. And this time, it takes only a few moments for the tension to snap.

You clamp down on him. Hard. So hard that his movement falters for a second, but he quickly recovers, thrusting into you with a relentless rhythm. Just as you start to catch your breath, he pulls out, and you’re left in that delicious, dizzy haze, but your mind is even more disoriented when his face suddenly lowers between your thighs.

“Oh, you’re gonna—” you moan as his shoulders nudge your legs apart, opening you wider for him. “Spencer, you don’t have to—”

Before you can finish, before you even take another breath, the tip of his tongue flicks out.

“I want to.”

And he means it. He dives in with a hunger that leaves no room for doubt. His tongue starts firm and flat, pressing against you before dragging slowly upward, gathering your slickness in one deliberate sweep. Then he changes rhythm, the broad strokes shifting into something more focused, alternating between gentle flicks and deep, hungry pulls, and it’s doing things to you that no amount of late-night fantasies could have prepared you for.

Your head is all over the place that you reach out blindly, trying to find something solid, but the air merely glides over your skin. You stretch for the edge of the bed, fingertips just skimming the surface before your arms flail helplessly in the empty space. He notices your struggle almost immediately, and without missing a beat, he pulls back, lifting your legs to rest on his shoulders.

“Here,” he says, reaching out his arms toward you. “Give me your hands.”

Gladly. The second your fingers lock with his, a sense of grounding floods you, though it does nothing to ease the intensity of what he’s doing. If anything, it sharpens. You can feel the muscles in his shoulders flex under your thighs as he positions himself. And sure, your legs somehow feel weightless, like they’re floating in the air, but the rest of you?

You’re a mess of nerve endings on fire.

It’s impossible to think clearly when every cell in your body is buzzing. Your thoughts scatter the second his mouth moves in that devastating way, driving you out of your mind. You try to hold on to some semblance of control, but who are you kidding? He has officially turned you into a puddle of desperate, needy nerves, and you don’t even care.

It doesn’t take long before that coil snaps, and when it does, your entire body trembles. It’s always the second orgasm. The first is a tease, a little warm-up. The second one is the worst—or the best, depending on how you look at it. It doesn’t just tug at your edges, it tears right through, leaving you gasping and shaking and completely undone like every part of you has been pulled apart and put back together very wrong.

His mouth is glazed with your slick when he finally pulls away. “Good?”

You can barely feel your legs.

“Speechless,” is your answer.

His nose twitches in amusement as his hand leaves yours only for them to slide down your body, gently coaxing your legs to wrap around his waist. “Continue?”

“Please.”

A palm slips down your thigh. “Did you mean what you said earlier?”

You swipe your tongue across your bottom lip as he hovers above you. “About what?”

“About taking advantage of you.”

You huff out a sigh. “I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.”

“Say it again,” he urges, guiding his cock smoothly along your folds before your whines travel into his ears. Ah, there it is. This is the sound that would greet him in heaven, if such a place existed for someone like him. Men who’ve taken lives to save others. Men who carry too many regrets to count. Spencer knows he’s not the kind of person heaven was built for, but if it were, he’s certain it would sound exactly like the breathy moan that escapes your lips.

And he’s tasted the afterlife, once, when he was younger—drifting somewhere between consciousness and oblivion with a ghost of a needle stuck in his arm. But nothing about that brush with death was like this. This feels like he’s been pulled back into something he didn’t believe he deserved.

“Say it again.”

He’s pleading now. It sounds awfully like a prayer.

“I want you to take advantage of me,” you say, the words spilling from your lips like a soft, sinful confession, music to his ears. An angel. “I want all of it.”

He takes your hands again. “So you won’t be mad if I get a little rough?”

“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”

That’s all he needs. He gently pushes your hands above your head, pinning them to the mattress, his fingers lacing through yours as his weight presses you into the bed. There’s a sudden rush—like a switch has flipped that it knocks the breath out of you. Your heart skips a beat, but not from nerves. No, this is anticipation, excitement.

You test his hold on you, just to see what happens, but his grip stays firm, almost daring you to resist.

“You asked for this,” he warns as he shifts his hips, aligning himself right to your entrance.

You shake your head. “I begged for this.”

He laughs, a flash of teeth in the dim light. “Yeah,” he breathes, his grip tightening as he presses deeper, “you did.”

A breathless whine escapes your lips as he fills you.

Angel, angel, angel.

He looks at you with a kind of reverence that borders on worship, though his movements are anything but saintly. There’s nothing gentle or innocent about the way he’s taking you, and there’s a quiet madness in the way you respond. Making love would be too tame, too soft for what this is. But fucking seems too crude, too disconnected for the way your eyes meet his, for the way you say his name like a prayer and a demand all at once.

The moment your voice breaks, breathless and needy, something inside him snaps. He feels the tightness coiling in his gut, and once it starts, there’s no stopping it. The pressure is mounting, and with every hard thrust it becomes harder to hold back. He knows he should slow down, give you a moment to catch your breath, but he can’t—his body won’t let him.

His fingers tighten around yours. He’s moving with a single-minded intensity now, pushing you flat against the mattress, your body pliant beneath him. The bed creaks every time he moves and your legs wrap tighter around his hips as you squeeze your eyes shut.

Spencer leans down, brushing his lips against yours, so close but never quite closing the distance, like even the simplest kiss would shatter him too soon. Instead, he rests his forehead on top of yours and whispers, “l’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” over and over, like he’s stuck on some endless loop. It’s not a real apology, not for anything he’s done, but for how much he needs you and how he’s afraid of breaking you with how much he can’t hold back.

He’s so close and he knows he’s not going to last much longer.

“I’m—” He groans as he feels the tension in his body snap, the wave building up in his spine and crashing down with brutal intensity. “I—fuck—I can’t hold it—”

You’re barely coherent yourself, but your voice comes out strong. A little breathless.

“Inside,” you gasp, your legs tightening around his waist. “I want it inside.”

Your words push him over the edge. He shudders, hips stuttering as he buries himself as deep as he can the moment the last thread of his restraint snaps. He can feel it, the way he pulses inside you, filling you completely. Every thrust is accompanied by a harsh groan as his release paints your walls, and the sound of your soft, desperate whines only pushes him deeper into the overwhelming pleasure.

When it finally becomes too much, he carefully pulls out. But the intensity is still coursing through his veins, and he’s too addicted to the sound of your sound, too drawn to the way your body trembles beneath him.

His hand drifts from your wrist almost on instinct, tracing its way down between your legs. He doesn’t need to see the mess he’s made—he can feel it. There’s a fleeting moment where he pauses, almost in awe, before his fingers brush over your clit, and your hips jerk in response. He’s not even sure if he’s teasing you or himself at this point, but he’s too far gone to care.

He slides two fingers inside you.

Your back arches instantly, your nipples brushing against his chest, and you gasp, fully aware of what he’s trying to do. “Oh… I—I can’t…”

He shakes his head. “You can,” he reassures you, watching in fascination as he pushes the white liquid of his release deeper into you. His gaze snaps back to yours. “I think you can give me one more.”

Your body trembles, and you can’t hold back the soft, broken cry that escapes your lips.

“Spencer…”

He loosens his grip on your hand, guiding it gently to rest around his neck. “Please,” he begs, his lips brushing your skin, “for me?”

The way he says it makes it impossible for you to deny him. And he knows it. He feels it in the way your nails dig into the back of his neck, pulling him closer as the tension inside you builds again. His fingers work faster, more desperate now, curling inside you just the way you like.

He’s watching, waiting, and when you finally cum again, it’s like witnessing something so divine. Your body shakes beneath him, a violent, beautiful quake that feels like it’s pulling him into its orbit. He’s unable to tear his eyes away as your head tilts back, lips parting with a choked moan that’s as delicate as it is devastating like an angel’s breath caught on the edge of rapture.

If angels looked this breathtaking in heaven, no wonder people were willing to risk damnation.

Spencer smiles wryly to himself.

Since when did he become so religious?

Another strangled moan escapes your lips. When your orgasm finally subsides, your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath, and with what little strength you have left, you reach up and yank weakly at his mop of brown curls.

“…no more.”

He smiles softly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your temple. “No more,” he agrees, pulling his fingers from you carefully.

Without saying a word, he slips off the bed and disappears from the room, only to come back with a damp towel in his hand. You expect him to hand it over to you, but you’re surprised when he kneels at the edge of the bed, gently spreading your legs apart.

Your skin tingles under his gaze as he stares at the mess between your thighs.

“That was…” he starts as he begins to wipe the towel over you. “…very reckless of us.”

With a small, tired smile, you mutter, “You don’t seem too bothered by it.”

He glances up at you. “I’m not,” he admits, finishing his cleanup and setting the towel aside. “But that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t at least pretend to be responsible.”

You reach for him as he climbs back into bed. “Would it make you feel better if I told you I’m on birth control?”

He exhales a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding, his body visibly relaxing as he lets out a quiet laugh. “It definitely helps,” he says, tucking you under his chin, “but I’m still going to try to be more careful next time.”

Your grin is as wide as the warmth spreading through your chest. “Next time?”

He smiles softly. “I meant what I said earlier.”

“Which part? You said a lot of things.”

“You know what I mean,” he insists.

“I know. But I want to hear it again.”

The tip of his nose brushes yours. “I want everything.”

“Everything?”

“Every single part of you.”

You take a deep breath. A whiff of his sweat and the faintest trace of soap clings around your senses until you release a happy sigh. “Do you think Violet will be okay with this? With us?”

His hand slips to the back of your neck, fingers threading through your hair as he tilts his head to look at you. “She already loves you,” he reassures you. “She’s more adaptable than you think. And she trusts you.”

“But... what if it changes things for her?”

“It will change things,” he admits. “But all the changes will be good ones."

You mull over his words. “You think so?”

“I know so, because you make her happy. You make both of us happy, an—”

He stops, his lips just barely parted as he catches himself.

He almost said it. He almost called you angel.

“What?”

He shakes his head slightly, a faint embarrassed smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"I’m just really happy,” he explains, his fingers absentmindedly brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face. There’s a curious look in your eyes, but instead of pressing him, you bury yourself into his neck, which he’s quietly grateful for because he’s not sure he could have explained himself without sounding like a total sap.

And maybe he is a sap, but even he’s aware that words like that shouldn’t be thrown around too soon, especially after just one night. Not before things settle in, before everything feels a little less like a dream and more like reality.

But he thinks about it. Oh, he thinks about it. The word stubbornly lingers at the edge of his mind he’s keeping for another time. He imagines letting it slip on some quiet morning, when you’re half-asleep and bundled in his shirt, golden sunlight filtering through the window to cast a warm glow across your skin. Or maybe when you meet him at the door after a long day, and Violet runs up, chattering away while you smile at him with that look that feels like coming home.

He can picture it falling easily from his lips someday, maybe even in a future where you’re holding the baby you had wondered about having with him and he’s standing there, watching you like someone who can’t quite believe his luck.

He’ll say it with a kind of certainty then. Not as a prayer, not as some lofty declaration of divine grace.

And when that moment comes, without hesitation, he’ll finally call you his angel.

[yawnderu]

There's only 3 people Simon follows on social media. Gaz, Soap... and a pornstar he's been obsessed with for months.

He loves coming back from missions and seeing you promoting your new content on Twitter, always getting fucked by a different person— never the same man or woman twice.

He'd be lying if he said he doesn't think he can fuck you better than the men jackhammering into you without care, or the women who keep staring at the camera rather than focusing on your lovely body. He could do it so much better, stuffing your pretty cunt full of eight inches of thick, veiny meat.

Warm water runs down his body as he rubs his throbbing cock, calloused hands toying with the angry, red tip before he smears it all over his shaft, almost cumming at the wet sound that rings around the shower when he jerks off again.

His leaking precum sticks to his hand, begging him to keep going while he scrolls down your Twitter. Half-lidded brown eyes struggle to stay open when he sees a new photo of you, groaning at the way your bright smile overpowers the thick cum smeared all over your lovely tits, looking so proud of finishing another man off and getting marked.

His boner is almost painful at this point. He's sure his arm is going to get a cramp after this, but he's too far gone to care.

Simon's fantasies run wild as he keeps scrolling and liking your new content. He's barely lucid enough to register the newest video, looking at the skimpy clothing you're wearing being ripped off by an older man, cock thrusting into you wildly, almost punishingly. There's nothing more lovely than your expression when you get penetrated, wide eyes looking at the camera and pretty lips turned into an "o" shape before you smile, clearly enjoying every single inch of meat stuffed into your needy cunt.

“Fuck.” His hand works faster down his shaft, the familiar tight feeling in his heavy balls returning while he lets out a low moan. A tidal wave of euphoria hits him when his half-lidded brown eyes return to the video, muscles flexing and tensing up as he releases thick ropes of cum onto the floor, letting the water wash it away.

His hips buck uncontrollably as he squeezes the last drops of thick cum out of his cock with a couple of low groans, hand finally slowing down.

His muscles finally relax, chest rising up and down while he tries to recover from the intense orgasm. He can't help but look at the ropes of release being washed away, secretly hoping they were in you instead.

His phone vibrates in his hand, and he immediately looks at it with a raised eyebrow, breath catching in his throat when he reads the notification announcing that you follow him back.

Part II | Part III

[tojisun]

Okay, now I need something about bf!logan and his girl making a porno (bonus points if wade finds out after the show they put on for him and that man is willing to RISK IT ALL to see that sex tape😩🤣)

cw: porn link; f!reader; smut; consensual filming during sex; slight sexting at the end // divider by @/plutism!

this is definitely the porno they were making <3

logan has you on your knees, your ass dimpling with every one of his greedy caresses, his heavy hand kneading your flesh. you’re whining to be creampied—to be bred—and logan indulges you with a quiet chuckle because you’re so adorable like this, all needy and demanding, babbling nothing but nonsense because he’s fucked you to the point of incoherence.

you jut out your chin at his croon. he tells you to do it yourself if you really want his cum; says that you’ve got to show him how much you need it.

“an’ here i thought i was bein’ a gentleman,” logan says, sighing in that what-can-you-do? tone like he hadn’t been fucking you so hard, you were sure that the condom was on the brink of ripping.

you grumble, rolling your eyes even mid-tears, before reaching back to where he’s got his cock rutting along the cleft of your ass. you give it a stroke, giggling breathily to yourself at its sheer girth and weight, before sliding your hand down to the pinched tip and tugging.

logan moans, and it rumbles deep, sending tingles to rise from the tips of your toes to the base of your neck. he sounds just a little too excited, and you wonder how you must look as you reach for the rubber, tugging it off the expanse of his cock. do you look desperate, the camera capturing the way you’re shivering like you’re on cum-withdrawals? or do you look like the brat that you are, whining how sex is not enough until logan’s pumping you full of his sperm?

god, the thought that this moment is being immortalized makes you clench at nothing, your hole puckering as it waits to be filled.

the condom comes off with a pop, the rubber snapping off and into itself. it sounds so lewd and dirty, like the two of you are really starring in a corny porno, and it fills your cheeks with warmth as your need wanes in the face of your shyness.

you fling the condom to the side, before burrowing your face on the pillows, as though that alone can hide the palpable hunger rippling from you. logan laughs at your reaction like he’s not softly humping his cock between your thighs, rutting it along the wet mess he’s made out of your cunt.

“y’ready, bub?” logan asks, still giddy with his laugh. you grumble a reply, before jutting your head in a stilted nod.

he taps his weeping cock along your folds, testing, and you shuffle in your impatience. you feel the itch exploding, the need to be stuffed bloating, but logan continues to tease and god, pleasepleaseplease—

“i’ve got you, darl,” he grunts, then he’s pushing in, steady and filling, and, and—

the moan that’s ripped from your throat sounds foreign, like you’re a damn wounded animal. you don’t even get to adjust to his width—pussy lips going taut at his thickness—before logan’s drawing his cock out until all that’s left is the head. there’s a bated breath that you two share, leaving you suspended in anticipation, then he’s bullying it back in.

you flop on the bed, all useless now like you’ve got your strings cut loose. logan doesn’t seem to mind, not with the consistent ringing slaps of his pelvis meeting your ass echoing in your quaint room. god, your brain’s being scrambled right now, you’re sure, because you can’t even think of anything but logan—

loganloganlogan.

you’re already cross-eyed by the time he sprays his first load inside you.

.

wade gets a five second clip from logan’s number. the thumbnail is just a blur of colours and wade’s interest is piqued because logan rarely reaches out to him—a video is just unthinkable.

he was expecting many things—that the video is the one of deadpool being broadcasted on national television with the words “hero or criminal?” after he’s accidentally set the robber’s van on fire, or that the video is an accidental recording of logan’s butt because that wolverine suit was tight and wade can’t even think where logan must keep his phone with him.

but this—

wade wasn’t expecting this.

it was a video of you—wade’s not even embarrassed to admit that he’s memorized the way you look from all angles; what? one doesn’t get a show of wolverine fucking his girl without gaining a new hyperfixation—reaching for logan’s monster cock. wade breathes in sharply as he watches you reach for the condom before tugging it off with a filthy, filthy pop. the video cuts into a next scene of logan relentlessly fucking you hard; the audio is a mess of squeaks and slaps, but also the wet squelches of logan’s cock fucking in-and-out of your gaping cunt.

two things:

1. that’s fucking hot.

2. that video has clearly been tampered with; it was edited to show the barest of the highlights.

this was a conscious decision, with deliberate efforts. this was personal.

an invitation.

wade rubs one… okay, fine.

wade rubs three out before he’s running back to that apartment he’s daydreamed about. mid-parkour, another notifcation comes in. wade falls, because of course he does, but while he waits for his ankle to mend itself back into its socket, his eyes devour the new message.

> darl wants to know if you’re in.

wade sends a dick pic as a reply.

wade busting a fat nut behind tim hortons because he’s patriotic like that

(ext)

[miupow]

hear me out...chan trying to fit it in but he's too big and he's whispering all kinds of stuff trying to get you to take it and you're frustrated and needy and you're just so !! done !! because it feels empty and he's so close yet he's not in and finally finally, his thick tip catches and he inches in agonizingly slow simply to hear you whine for it

꒰୨୧◞ ⤷ ❛❛ TOO BIG ! ❜❜ .ᐟ bang chan.

[ ⟡ ] ── minors do not interact ! ⭑ fem!reader , soft dom!chan , est. relationship , monster cock chris lol , size kink , dirty talk , praise kink , daddy kink , missionary/mating press , unprotected sex , bulge kink

a/n ⸝⸝ happy (late) comeback day !! i’m not very proud of this drabble but it’s here and i’m posting it anyway lol <3 save me big dick chris.. save me..

♡ ⸝⸝ ꒰ m.list ꒱ ‧ ꒰ reblogs and feedback appreciated! ꒱

“it’s too big, channie,” you whimper, peering down between your legs— the big fat tip of chan’s cock throbs an angry red as he slides it up between your pussy lips, taps it against your fluttering hole. your ankles dangle in the air over his shoulders, thighs pushed up to your chest by his body pinning you against the mattress, so close you could feel his hot breath, ache for a kiss from the plump, spit-slick lips he bit in arousal. he grips the base of his shaft in one hand, guiding it to push at your rim; you’re frightened by the sheer size of it, thick as a can, veins fat and pulsing… the pressure of it was already overwhelming yet you roll your hips down eagerly, desperate for it to slide in and fill you up.

“shh, stay still, babygirl,” chan coos so sweet, his veiny hand splayed out across your tummy. “and take this fucking cock. daddy knows you can.”

your pussy is making it difficult, so wet chan’s cock misses your hole, slides up your folds to bump against your clit. you shake in pleasure and frustration, reaching your hand down to take ahold of chan’s cock yourself— chan lets you with a warm smile, his thick arms shaking with every slick twist of your hand.

“you need me that bad, baby?” he chuckles, breathless. “thought you said it was too big.”

“i’m so empty,” you whine in response, angling his flared head to spear your core. “need your big cock, daddy—“ finally, finally his tip catches and slides in, sudden yet so achingly slow, your eyes rolling back in tandem with chan’s deep, guttural groan; the stretch burns deliciously, clouds over your senses as your mouth drops open in a moan for more.

“there you go, baby, just like that,” chan continues to bully his cock in past your tight rim, slow and gentle— but there’s nothing gentle about the way he fills you up, inch by fat, throbbing inch stretching your wet gummy walls to their limits. you can feel every ridge, every vein drag hot and heavy… you let go of his shaft in favor for scratching deep red marks into his flexing bicep, scrambling for something to hold on to and ground you. “daddy’s good girl, taking his cock so well— feels so good, doesn’t it?”

“b-big—!” you croak in a daze, an echo of your earlier sentiments; it was all you could manage to make yourself say, rendered brainless in an instant as chan’s blunt cockhead kisses your cervix. “so— so fucking big! ‘n deep, daddy, fuck—“

“yeah?” chan huffs, hips stuttering flush against yours. “am i too big for your little cunt, baby? feel me all the way up here?”

he presses down on the bulge his cock makes in your belly, causing the both of you to keen, your little dripping pussy fluttering around his cock as he twitches inside of you; you desperately want him to move, start pounding your pussy like you’ve been wanting so, so badly… you eagerly nod at chan’s teasing words, buck your hips the best you can folded in half. “yes, yes!” you wail, voice slurred, “give it to me daddy, please!”

“you’re so pretty when you’re begging for me, angel,” chan grins crookedly, pulling his hips back to slide himself out of your hole. you hold your breath in wicked anticipation. “beg some more and i’ll give you what you need.”

[gravegoer]

Do you write for Grayson by any chance? I really wished we got see more of her before her unfortunate demise

Sevika , Ambessa , Grayson ⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

i write for anyone! and you can request a separate thing for grayson if you'd like but I decided to do the 3 butches in 1 so here's some random stuff for them

council member sevika fic

Ambessa doesn't love often, but when she does, she loves HARD.

Since you're close to her, she is constantly worried people about hurting you to get to her.

You might have enforcers on you 24/7 unless you tell her to stop and if that's the case. She will follow you around herself. Making sure people know you are always under a close watch by her.

When you walk in public together, she likes you to have your arms wrapped around her bicep/forearm, keeping you as close as possible.

If that's not in your taste she will sling a heavy arm over your shoulder, careful not to weigh you down.

She is always buying you expensive and lavish clothing. If your gaze lingers on anything for too long, you'll see it at your doorstep the next day.

When you see a nice shop you like she's going to take you in and make you try on clothes for her. Putting her hand on your waist as she spins you around. Inviting you to stand between her spread legs so she can see the details better.

If you like to wear heels and your feet start to get tired, she will sit you down and take them off your feet herself, opting to carry you around for the next few hours.

When she carries you, you can see all the scars on her arms and face in full detail. She doesn't seem to mind your staring and might even take pride in herself.

As you're cuddling, she loves it when you trace your fingers over her scars, admiring every bump and edge. She will tell you dramatic stories about how she got them. (Definitely exaggerating some details.)

You could talk together for ages, bringing up random stories and irrelevant details. Her rough hands combing through your hair, or massaging your shoulders.

This was a weekly thing in the hot springs. She sits on the ledge above you while your shoulders slot themselves between her thick, scarred thighs.

She will take care of you without expecting anything back, but she definitely loves it when you return the favor. She will rest her head on your thighs and groan in pleasure when you massage her temples or scalp.

Grayson is a romantic, she will be showing up at your door with flowers in hand.

If she met you in Zaun, she will insist on taking you out on a fancy dinner date at her favorite Piltover resteraunt.

If you refuse, that's okay too. She's fine with eating at any of Zaun's resteraunts. (Just not seafood, please.)

She's asking you what your favorite flower is so she can bring you those instead next time.

And if you are a Zaunite, she isn't ashamed of your relationship, showing you off proudly. After all, all the enforcers do look up to her. What are they going to do?

If you don't know how to shoot, she will be more than pleased to teach you. Your back is pressed against her warm chest as she wraps her arms around you to hold the gun steady.

Her rough voice firmly commands you on where to put your hands and which parts do what.

Speaking of her voice, she knows you love it when she whispers sweet nothings in your ear before you drift off to sleep. Her muscled arm cushioning your head and cradling you close to her chest.

It's easy for her to fall asleep once she knows you're safe and comfortable. (That's why she insists on moving in together.

Actually, she insists on doing a lot of things together. For example, she appreciates when you work out with her, sitting on her back while she does pushups, or maybe spotting her while she presses some weight. (Not that she needs it. She just wants you close)

She instructs you on what workouts you can do and where to place her hands, maybe placing hers on yours for a bit too long.

You can see the sweat gleam on her forehead and the veins in her forearm after every set she completes. This is a sight you can grow to appreciate.

She definitely subtlety flexes when you touch her arm or basically anywhere else she can possibly bring herself to flex. (You notice)

Sevika is the gentlest giant. At first, you might assume her tone is rough and condescending. But after some time, you start to see through her facade.

Her tone around is more firm and calm. It's more around you than anyone else. She tries not to get aggressive or angry with you.

And if she does, she's immediately making it up to you in every way but saying "sorry"

She's bringing you your favroite foods, giving you a little more affection than usual, reluctantly letting you fidget with her mechanical arm.

She does take you out to places, albeit not the fanciest. She makes do with what Zaun has to offer. Buying you a drink at the bar or a trip across the city.

Although she's not really a big fan of PDA, she will let you hold her arm while walking around Zaun. She swears it's a safety precaution to make sure no creeps get close.

When she plays cards at the bar, you are always beside her, no arguements. She doesn't want you sitting by any of the other shady men that play with her.

Maybe if there is few enough people you can sit in her lap and light her cigarillo for her.

What you don't do in public is definitely made up for in private.

She lays on your lap after a long day, taking deep inhales into your stomach to calm down. Grabbing your hand, she'll encourage you to run your fingers through her hair.

Let's you hold her face in your hands and trace her intricate scar while her eyes are closed, completely letting her guard down.

Her large hand engulfs your own as she cradles your hand close to her face, imprinting this memory in her mind.

Just know she is extremely touch starved. Most of the touching she gets all day is punches and kicks, nothing close to the gentle sweep of your fingers on her exposed skin.

She isn't a big gift giver, but if you give her a neat suprise, like an expensive zippo or a new shirt (God knows she needs one) you swear you see a small tear in the corner of her eye. Maybe its just the light.

But who cares because her lips will immediately be on yours, engulfed in a hot kiss.

i feel like sevika needed more screen time in the last act but its okay as long as she didn't die...

[shotmrmiller]

the tale of how simon got himself a gf without stepping a foot outside of base.

anyone can tell you that alcohol reduces the ability to use logic. to see reason. it lowers inhibitions and blurs the boundary lines you've drawn in the sand.

but indulging in drink tonight is justified. you're in need of reprieve after this shit week: broke up with your boyfriend, deadlines at work appearing out of thin air, a flat tire on your morning commute. you even stepped on the end of your cat's tail.

miserable. (she's okay, just giving you the cold shoulder. you'll buy her some tasty snacks tomorrow.)

but for tonight, you're wallowing in your own misery. some uninteresting show is playing on the television, you're cradled by the cushions of your couch, a fluffy sherpa throw over your socked feet.

if only there was a way to melt this week's accumulated stress away even further.

cue the drunk texting your ex cliché.

anyone can tell you that it's detrimental to moving on. it's akin to reopening a wound that's already begun to heal. a step back when you should only be moving forward. your friends would drag you by your hair for being so dumb.

but there's an incessant throb in between your legs that's only getting stronger with every glass of wine you toss back. you're wound tight, violin strings stretched to the brink. a couple of bow strokes away from snapping.

you'll deal with the consequences tomorrow, along with your hangover.

typing in his (deleted in a fit of heartbroken rage) number with fumbling fingers and send a picture of you with the hem of your sleeping shirt between your teeth, the swell of your bare breasts on full display with a cheeky little missing you <3

he responds in minutes even though it's 2:30am.

send a vid and show me how much you miss me.

it makes your pussy clench around nothing, already slick, drooling, begging to be filled. you sink your teeth into your bottom lip as you bring up the camera.

when simon first gets the text, he's on edge, gripping his phone hard enough to crack. no one should have this number except for price, johnny and kyle. he's made sure of it-- had laswell pull strings to give him a secure line. no scam likely's, no cold calls, nothing.

but then some silly little bird dials his number by mistake and the sweet cherry on top is that you've sent a nude. breasts on full display-- soft looking, hard peaked. it makes his mouth water, his gums itch. he'd love to sink his teeth into them, into you, hard enough to bruise. mark. claim.

but that's for later, once he finds you.

he texts back and what you send him in response fattens his cock. a small hand tucked beneath the waistband of your flimsy knickers, gusset dampened with warm arousal. you lick your bottom lip, leaving it glossy with spit. your chest heaves with the sharp gasps of breath you're drawing.

but there's a problem. he can barely see what you're doing. he doesn't have x-ray vision, your knickers are in the way. while he can understand the allure, he himself doesn't have the patience for it. either you let him see your bare cunt or don't waste his time.

he wasn't expecting you to agree this fast. maybe a bit of push back, a little snapping of teeth until you relent but no. you're an obedient thing. submissive. just how he likes 'em. (if he wants to break someone in, that's what johnny's for.)

soft, inviting thighs spread wide, a couple of fingers curling inside your glistening cunt. (duly noticing how your 2 fingers are the size of 1 of his.) your moans spill from your lips unreservedly when you roll your pearl in tight, precise little circles. he spits on his hand, heavy length resting in his calloused palm and tugs himself at the pace you've set: jerky, quick, messy.

you come with a whimper, eyes shut and pliant body coiled tight. a frothy, sticky cream coats your fingers, dripping down to your arse, pooling on your couch.

you miss me too? sent 3:27 am

(he decides to keep you. simon can't remember the last time he's had a climax that spine stiffening in a while.)

[seraphdreams]

JJK MEN AS YOUR PERSONAL TRAINER. | TOJI FUSHIGURO, GOJO SATORU, CHOSO KAMO, SUGURU GETO.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — synopsis. having private sessions with the men prove to be an experience. what type of trainer are each of them?

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — cw. smut, edging, degradation, praise, dry humping, fellatio, switch!choso, overstimulation, emo boy!choso, cervix fucking, unprotected sex, they are all whores. mdni <3

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — word count. 3.1k

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — dolled up! oh em gee ?? headcanon format ? yup! i originally wrote this as a little joke since i started pilates but then my mind wandered and it wasn’t a joke anymore. other than that, ino was supposed to be on the list but he couldn’t make it :( something about being busy .. regardless, comment / reblog if u like ! it would make my day, thank u ♡

TOJI — THE CORRUPT TRAINER.

there must’ve been a clear distinction as to why your trainer only allowed sessions from 9pm up until midnight, but your desperation when it came to relentlessly searching for a personal trainer didn’t leave enough room in your mind to think deeper about the true nature of its shadiness. all you needed was a spotter, and toji’s services claimed to provide just that.

and what happens when you combine height, a monsterous build, superhuman stamina, and a handsome face? well, you get toji fushiguro in all his abhorrent glory.

his chiseled body virtually doubled your frame with biceps the size of your head, shoulders wide enough to emphasize the narrowness of his waist, and veins crawling up his limbs even when the muscles weren’t flexed. a mean looking man with a scar over his mouth like some battered veteran. whatever he got into during the day was truly nothing you’d want to take part in.

inviting him over to your home gym was one thing, but it was looking to be another when his “help” took the form of sensuality; his large hands running along the back of your thighs when he’d seemingly fold you over with your legs on either side of your head for warm-up stretches, or even the occasional groping of your ass when it came down to squats, he was barely doing his job, what you paid a hefty price for, and yet you loved every bit of it.

“c’mon, you can take more of it, cant’cha?” toji’s gruff voice goads, watching the way your tiny cunt struggles with swallowing the head of his wrist-thick, bulbous cock. you were put in the awkward position of doggy, yet another one of his sessions derailed and he deemed this new workout could help you build up some much needed endurance. you were going to need it if you planned on keeping him around.

it surely seems that way when you’re practically running from the pleasure he pistons into you, thick cock kissing your cervix with each skillful, angled thrust of his. large hands were wrapped around your waist, keeping you in place for him — because if there was one thing your personal trainer was strict about, it was form. and your form was beyond perfect.

“‘s just too good.” you mindlessly whined, attempting your hardest to grip onto the thin cushion of the yoga mat beneath you. toji lets out a deep scoff at your vocables, driving his hips against your ass once more, this time a bit sharper with a hint of fervor as its aftertaste. “and you’ve been training with me for how long now?” his question came out in a mocking tone as his lips stretched wide in a crooked smile, that of a statement rather than a query.

“t-two weeks .. fuck.” you respond, mind going hazy from the gaining intensity of his potent movements. the feeling was all too much, it came as no surprise when pleasure began to surge from your spine to coil at your core, building up that high you've been chasing for the past hour, that grumpy ol’ toji continued to rip away from you.

pressing a heavy hand to the small of your back, he arches you forward, groaning at the sight of how swiftly you position yourself for him, your face pushed against the mat.

maybe his training has paid off. . “two weeks and you’re still struggling to take my cock?” he pulled your hips back against his, leaving you defenseless in the ministrations. “guess i need to train this pretty little hole of yours more often.”

with the end of his sentence, he snakes his thick arm around your waist, the pad of his thumb finding your achy, puffy clit, rubbing the nub in tight, harsh circles. if your moans weren’t already loud enough, you were sure the whole town could hear you by now, crying out his name like no tomorrow while your legs trembled with your impending orgasm. “‘m cumming! so hard!” you cry, drooling into the mat as he fucks you through your orgasm.

it wasn’t until soon after that he finally reached his high, sending hot and sticky ropes of cum into your womb. not once had a session with toji ended with him shooting his cum in a more responsible way, with a rubber. it was clear to you since the very first time you allowed his fantasies to come to fruition — toji didn’t believe in condoms.

your body went lax as soon as he pulled out, and he tucked his cock back into his pants, hovering over your sad frame with an amused smirk on his scarred lips.

“good session. i expect $800 wired to my account by the mornin’.”

GOJO — THE ENABLING TRAINER.

when you first showed up to the private room of your local gym in search of your assigned instructor for the night a.k.a “the strongest,” you were expecting some big burly man with a cocky attitude — someone you didn’t particularly get along with. but much to your surprise, instead, he was handsome; fluffy white strands of hair that strayed upwards and a million dollar smile with just the charisma, the charm to back it up.

gojo stood over 6 feet tall, and although he was on the lankier side, there was no denying the lean muscles that peeked through his skintight black top. he smiled, throwing a loose cloth over his broad shoulders.

“you ready to get started?”

your eyes greedily took him in, scanning over the finer details of his gorgeous build. it wasn’t until about thirty seconds of daydreaming about what he’d look like unclothed that you finally gave him a response in the form of a nod and hum.

of course satoru wasn’t an idiot, he could tell from how dazed you were during the first few minutes of instruction that you were focused on something else, not that he minds though, it’s truly an honor that a girl as pretty as you is capable of fawning over him, just as many others do.

after having to shake your thoughts whenever it came to watching him take a large swig from his water, droplets of the liquid streaming down his chin to graze his prominent adam's apple, or the soft appraises he’d coo when you finally got the hang of his workouts, it was the end of yet another vigorous session with him, sweat dripping from your chin down to your chest that was scantily clad in a baby pink sports bra. you held on taut to your water bottle as satoru carried conversation with you.

“you improved so much in just an hour. i’m proud.”

his praises barely reached your ears before you looked at him with adoration glossed over those pretty eyes — there was something about him that you just couldn’t get over, but you knew you needed him badly. you dabbed perspiration from your forehead with a matching pink towel, soft smile forming on your doll-like features.

“thank you,”

he nods his head slightly before starting, “you seemed a bit distracted today, though. something on your mind?” his query pulled you from your gojo-induced hypnosis, causing you to blink away the embarrassment pooling up within you. were you truly that obvious?

“hm? there’s nothing, i’m fine,” your reply came out low and sheepish while your eyes struggled to find anywhere else to settle besides those bright baby blues. he took it upon himself to inch closer to you, studying your features until you gasped softly once your back hit the wall. “nothing?” he asks for confirmation, and you affirm. “nothing.”

“all you gotta do is use your words if you need me.”

gojo’s hands found their way at your thighs, creeping them upwards underneath the thin spandex of your shorts. his touch felt hot against your skin, each brush of his fingertips along the expanse of your inner thigh causing shivers to trickle down your spine while he watched with mirth at your pitiful attempt to keep your whines at bay.

“i think .. i think i need you.”

with that, satoru smirked and lifted your leg up just enough so that it fell over his arm. his lips met yours with a salacious that only the whorest of whores could possess, skilled tongue angling its way inside your mouth to gently clash with yours in the sweetest harmony that had you buckling underneath the frame of his body.

it must’ve been a spur of the moment when you found yourself rutting your hips up in search for satoru’s, a pitchy moan sounded into the kiss when he matches your ministrations, grinding his sweatpant clad and half-hard, leaking length into the seat of your shorts; creating the most delicious sensation as the tip nudged against your clit.

his free hand took purchase at your cheek, his thumb rubbing ever so gently against the heated skin while his movements increased in greediness. your mind’s too hazy to make out anything besides the pleasure and build up of your orgasm — so much so, that it pulled you back to reality as soon as it hit, your sloppy kisses coating gojo’s soft lips in a thin sheen and the seat of your shorts sopping wet from the release of your high.

yet, gojo kept at it until he too came to a falter, cumming an ample amount in his sweats while groaning deep into your mouth. he separated from the kiss for just a split second before he took it upon him to goad,

“we can add 30 more minutes and i’ll give you more than just a taste.”

CHOSO — THE INTIMIDATING TRAINER.

a pierced tongue, some tattoos running along both veined arms, and a deep, monotonous voice were a recipe for your timidness when it came to the kamo, who you’d invited over for your very first home training session. it didn’t help that he was on the quieter side, responding to whatever small talk you’d make with one or two words while his intense eyes would follow every move you’d make as he’d help with your form.

he truly wasn’t a bad guy, or so you thought. even now, during your session with him, his praises were appropriate, he wasn’t too handsy nor did he seem to have any ill intent; being with him felt surprisingly comfortable and refreshing just as the crisp, cold water you two were currently drinking, made fresh from your refrigerator’s tap.

“was it too intense?” he’d asked in regard to the exercises you had just completed. intense was an understatement, you didn’t know how you could move your body in such ways that you did, which wouldn’t have been possible without his expertise. choso set the chilled glass of water down onto your coffee table, feeling coy from sitting on your couch, something he’d never done even with his regulars, and in response, you shook your head at the query, settling yourself by his side.

there was truly no denying how absolutely stunning you were, like some angelic being brought to him from the heavens up above in the form of the sweetest thing he’s ever met. he was afraid that if he blinked too hard, you’d vanish.

the more his eyes focused on your lips when you talked, how you’d massage the sore muscles of your thighs and even let out cute whines because of the fact, the more he found it harder to contain his thoughts, rapidfire in his mind. those perverted thoughts that only some horny teenager could have, not a well off adult like him.

yet, it wasn’t enough to stop him from getting hard in his sweats, a dark grey patch spreading at the crotch, what he’d hoped you’d mistake as spilt water.

“shit,” with that of a husky sigh, he ran his hand over his face, tinges of pink battering the tattooed scar across his nose and cheeks. “i’m sorry.”

oblivious to his situation, you were quick to express your inquiry. “sorry about wh- oh.” the head of his cock practically peeked through the barrier of the hem of his sweats while he made a futile effort to cover himself with one of your pillows once you had realized.

he looked cute like that, embarrassed by something so natural that it even spurred on your arousal, the thought of him getting worked up over you doing virtually nothing. “i-it’s okay.. i can help you if you want.” you offer, moving your position to sit between his thighs.

violet hued eyes widened from your newfound boldness, the clearing of his throat being the only true source of sound he could make in that moment.

“nah, nah. it’s-“ before he could inch out the words, you were drawing featherlight circles at his tip over the fabric, causing his breath to hitch and resolve to falter.

choso wasn’t someone who’d allow himself to be in such a pathetic situation, yet the thought of you carrying out his perfect porn plot fantasy was all he needed for that internal morality to fly straight out the window.

you chuckled at the way he hiked himself up when you finally took him from his bottoms and into your hot, wet mouth. just the sight of his cock disappearing past soft, glossy pink lips has his temperature rising, feeling as though he could pass out.

it’s hazy for him — your hand at the base, the rhythmic bobbing of your head slowly while gradually picking up speed. he never would’ve thought the job he took on for extra cash to fund his college textbooks would end up with someone as gorgeous as you giving him a chance. every pump of your hand around what couldn’t fit into your mouth had him groaning, bucking his hips up as gently as he could without battering the back of your throat.

though, he wouldn’t mind if he did.

staving off a gag, you ultimately increased your pace, determined to get him off while your other hand fondled his plump balls.

from the faint touches alone, he could feel his high approaching, embarrassingly quicker than usual. yet, he couldn’t help it when you started to grow sloppy, a mix of spit and precum dribbling down his shaft.

“w-wait, fuck.. ‘m gonna.”

it took no time for him to shoot his seed into your awaiting throat, his head thrown back against the headrest while he bucked his hips to jettison every last drop. you swallowed all he had to offer before pulling away, watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest.

maybe he wasn’t as intimidating after all.

GETO — THE CHARMING TRAINER.

you were his favorite. you had to be. even in the long line of women waiting to have their own turn with him, you were always a top contender. he had always made time for you, and you alone.

geto’s popularity made perfect sense in your mind. he was tall, handsome with narrow features and dragon tattoos strung along both arms, a man ahead of his time. not to mention, his docile, gentle demeanor. he was charming as all get out and you were beyond aware of your superstar status of being the only one he wanted.

“are we actually going to get some training done or is there something else you want to do?” he straps his fingerless gloves around his palm, tank top tight around his torso, carving out each and every trace of his abs while looking over you, a pleasant smile quirked at his lips.

you felt sheepish under his sharp gaze, a feeling that comes all too natural with expert trainer, suguru geto. “i’m fine with whatever you have in mind, sugu.”

if you didn’t know any better, you’d swore you saw his cheeks dust in the lightest shade of pink at the endearing nickname. you were cute, too fucking cute and perhaps, that was the reason he kept you around.

“i’m thinking we test that stamina ‘nd see if you can hold up riding me?” he hooks his finger under your chin, tilting your head up just slightly. “no help, all on your own.” in all honesty, you could definitely take up his challenge. how hard could it be to take some dick?

or so you thought.

“fuck, sugu! ‘s too much!”

you wouldn’t want to be caught dead in the miserable state that you were in but it ultimately did seem as though geto’s lessons had gotten you nowhere. the tip of his cock wasn’t even an inch past your cunt while you rested your hands on his broad shoulders, pathetically trying to take what was the easiest part.

he smirked at you, resting his hands behind his head. “i’m not helping, princess. i meant it.”

you continued to try and sink yourself down onto his unreasonably thick cock, a soft crack of a whine tumbling past parted lips when your pussy engulfed another half inch of him. “but-“

“if i have to help you, we’re not finishing until you’re a mess.” he grits, not harsh enough to come off as daunting but stern enough to warn you. yet, the warning fell to deaf ears when you began to whorishly beg pleas of “help me, sugu. help me.”

from that, he let out a low groan, his hands on your waist sinking you all the way down to the base before he gained stability, flattening his feet onto the floor and fucking his cock into your fluttering cunt.

with the way he moves, you were almost positive you had the wind knocked out of you from those first few thrusts alone. soft babbles resonated throughout the room while you clung to his body like it’d comfort you in the hell that was his potent ministrations.

you felt far more sensitive than you ever felt, white hot pleasure coiling within you in no time, your pussy tightening around his shaft in such a suffocating way, geto felt as though he couldn’t breathe either. “s-so tight, princess. i know you wanna cum, cum for me, baby.” he goads through a strained voice, his thumb now working between your folds to find purchase at your clit, rubbing the puffy nub in moderate circles.

“if you do t-that, i might—“

and before you knew it, you were gushing around his pretty cock, face twisted in the prettiest picture of pleasure. the aftershocks of your orgasm were way more intense as you were fucked to overstimulation, a sly grin on his lips.

“told you we weren’t stopping, darling.”

[devotion-disorder]

be careful what you wish for...the village Killian's from is having a bit of a population crisis right now, and having a nice little human come by could be just what they need...

Oh noooo....I'm just a naive human lost in this big forest with no one waiting for me...would be a shame if some beautiful elves whisked me away and brainwashed me into thinking I'm their pet/breeding machine and only need their "love and devotion". That would be terrible /silly

- 🩵

wdym the beautiful elf men do not, in fact, have my best interests in mind and were planning something nefarious from the start </3 I was just gonna write down some quick thoughts but it kinda got out of hand LOL

Content warning for: implied drugging (hypnotics, aphrodisiacs), dubcon/ noncon touching (nothing explicit though), manipulation, slight obsessive/ yandere themes, general elven condescension?

Imagine that you’ve accidentally wandered too deep into the forest and lost your way, your shoes hardly holding up in the rough terrain, and the last remaining rays of the setting sun are snuffed out by the overgrown foliage…

To make things worse, you walk right into some sort of trap - a stumbling step is all it takes to activate the runic trip switch, and a suffocating cloud of purple gas is the last thing you remember before things fade to dark…

How clumsy of you! Good thing Priest Killian happened to be on his evening walks when he spotted your pitiful form twitching and writhing in the hunting trap he’d set up; carefully he scooped you up and went his way back to the village. Only the most observant would be able to discern that the Priests’ unmoving smile seemed a bit wider than usual.

It was a trap the elves set up for hunting animals, he’d explained. The poison was almost enough to be fatal, had he not been there in time to save you. It’ll also take a bit for all the toxins to be out of your system. No worries though, because Killian offers to take care of you in his quarters until you’re up on your feet again. 

You don’t even remember if you’d managed to give a response, what with lead-heavy limbs and relentless migraine pulsing in your head. Luckily, Killian treated you with utmost care. 3 meals a day (along with the antidote treatment) brought to your bed (well, his bed), and spoon-fed to you because you were too weak to even sit up. He massaged your stiff muscles and brushed your hair. He ran warm baths and washed you – and even then he never opened his eyes – so at least there was some comfort in that.

Under Killian’s care you gradually regain your strength, save for the occasional dizzy spell and fatigue. But he saved your life after all! Feeling indebted to him, you offer to stay longer in the village to help around. While Killian’s expression is ever-unreadable, you can’t help but sense a bit of…amusement from him upon your suggestion. Regardless, he agrees – so long as you agree not to wander too far outside the village, because it’s very dangerous out there, he said.

And of course, he maintained a watchful eye over you, shadowing your tottering form as you went around introducing yourself to the other villagers. How cute.

You worked whatever odd jobs the elves had for you. which isn’t much at all. Mostly just menial tasks, or perhaps relaying messages. Things that they could’ve easily done themselves with their magic, but it’s fun watching an over-enthusiastic little human do it instead, so eager to please. You would say they are…endeared, perhaps. Or maybe they’re just looking out for you, what with your unfinished recovery. Anyhow, the elves are charmed by the newfound presence in the village.

Killian gifts you a new set of clothes, made by the local tailor (you don’t remember visiting a tailor for measurements at any point though, strange). To help you feel more at home, he said. It's pretty, a delicate garment that flutters cool against your skin in the warm summer heat, with an unmistakably elven style of elegance. It is a little short but, well, elves are known for being tall so maybe they're not used to human proportions? The white silk is a bit sheer in places, and you tried to ignore how it clung to the contours of your body when you sweat…

You hadn’t expected elves to be so openly affectionate. Being a long-living race known for their high culture and intelligence, it made for the perception that they were maybe a bit prudish, engrossed in their endless pursuit of finer things to care about lowly desires. But you suppose the elves are as curious of you as you are of them. You got to know some of them quite well, and soon it was routine for them to envelop you in their embrace. They pet your hair and nuzzle into your neck (Killian said something about how common skinship is in elven culture), at times slipping their digits beneath your clothes…sometimes you don't really remember, because the medicine still made you a bit sluggish. But it's ok! Their affectionate nature is a surprise but one you welcome. You think. 

During all of which, your treatment continued. Just a little longer, Killian promised. The side-effects seem to show no sign of waning, if not worsening at times. Sometimes you struggle to recall what has happened and what has not. The elves didn’t seem to mind, gladly cradling your tired body when you are overcome with sudden bounds of weakness. You poor little thing, they cooed, one hand combing through your hair to distract you from their other that wandered along your body.

Some days the medicine leaves you feeling more flushed than usual, and a strange feeling you can’t quite place invades your senses; a deep, frustrating kind of yearning that throbbed in your core. You assume it's the side-effects of advanced elf sorcery/ enchantment in your antidote treatment. It’s a tad embarrassing, but you can’t really do anything about it when the elves (if not the Priest himself) check in on you so frequently. 

Your only reprieve comes when Killian slots himself snug against your smaller form at bedtime. Were you always this close? You’re not sure if you recall, trying desperately to suppress the suggestive thoughts flooding your brain. His cool hands trail over your body, and it feels way too good against your overheating skin, so good that you can’t even think about resisting as his lips come crashing on top of yours, when he slips his arm underneath your waist to push you closer, closer against him.

Stumbling out of Killian’s quarters in the dead of night, confused, and your vision blurred by hot tears, all you can think about is getting away from him, from this godforsaken place. The other elves stepped out of their houses from the commotion. It was as if something in the air shifted. Their friendly, curious pretenses have dropped completely, leaving a ravenous hunger and unyielding need in their place. The way they leer at your body, the disheveled elven outfit failing to provide much cover, makes your hair stand on their ends. The elves close in on you, their concerned voices laced with something unmistakably sinister. You’re trapped.

A gentle hand on your shoulder snaps you out of your stupor.

“Now, now, I’m sure we’re all very excited about our little one here, but everyone will have their turn sooner or later.” Killian explains. He leans close to your ear, whispering in a volume only audible to you. “Look at you getting everyone so riled up already. Aren’t you such a needy little pet?” You’re paralyzed in fear, but his husky voice in your ears is still setting your nerves alight. 

“I’ll give you two choices. Either you let me 'take care of you' back at home,” his arms snaked around your body again, lithe fingers fanning across your thighs. “Or we’ll give everyone a show, and maybe let them get...a preemptive taste, as well. What’ll it be?”

[tonycries]

BRAT!

Synopsis. Scream it! While he’s still asking nicely, that is…

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, creampíes, getting reader to not be quiet in béd, CÚMPLAY, spítting, Sukuna’s second tongue, oraI (fem rec), pússydrunk boys, squírting, six eyes, face-sítting, pússy-slappíng, true form Sukuna, chokíng, markíng, exhíbitionism (Nanami), víbrators, dp, slight voice kínks, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.9k

A/N. Love y’all, have a good leak day <3

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Let it all out!

“Doll…” he drawls out, that tiny scar at the end of his smirk dragging roughly against your glossy pout. And when Toji’s given nothing more than a few of your muffled, bit-back whimpers, he’s insisting - begging, “My stubborn girl-”

Five thick fingers wrap delicately around your neck - jostling your fucked-out expression up to his greedy gaze, “Cat got yer tongue?” As if to fuck the answer out of you, his hips are ramming angrily, knocking rawly into your bruised g-spot. “Don’t tell me you’ve been hah- fucked dumb already? Wha’s the problem, ma?”

It’s been hours now, and Toji’s absolutely wrecked - blood thumping in his ears, broad chest heaving with short rasps, stars bursting behind his half-lidded eyes after each sloppy thrust. And, yet, he still has enough sanity left to notice when you’re biting down brattily on your knuckles, throat tight with all those sweet moans being held back. 

See, that’s when Toji gets impatient. 

“Fine- be as quiet as your pretty lil’ heart desires, then.” Your eyes are widening at the mushy twitch of his rotund tip - still leaky, still angry. “We’ll see how long that lasts, anyway.”

Just that dark little promise is enough to make you keen - and he’s chuckling, “Now now- what did I say-” Those soft pads of his fingers glide up in a gentle curve towards your lips - but the way he just shoves them inside is anything but. Rounded tips constricting into the very back of your throat, “Ya wanna be quiet? Then, commit to it like the big girl you are.”

Big fat tears spring up to your eyes when he’s hiking a powerful thigh up, pressurizing the ruthless pace of his achy cock even more. Bullying into your velvety walls like he was angry, knocking all the air in your lungs with every glide of his swelteringly hot head along your cervix. 

“Hngh-” you gurgle past his swirling fingers. Your nails piercing ravaged red lines where you’re gripping helplessly onto his wrist, “T-To-ah!”

There’s such a deafening squelch gushing out of your messy cunt when the mean digits on his free hand push down about halfway at your stomach, feeling for the branding little nudge of his fat cock. Toji’s mouth drops in awe at the milky white coating of his cum. Dredge after dredge soiling your inner thighs, forming a creamy little ring where he was pushing his thick hilt into you over and over-

“Shit-” his Adam’s apple bobs with a heavy gulp. Mindlessly, he’s falling down onto his elbows in exhaustion, bending you in half like a little ragdoll underneath him. “N’ suddenly I’m the one speechless, doll- Hahah-”

The heavy thwack! thwack! thwack! of his still painfully-full balls make your head spin, and Toji’s drinking in your little gasps like a starved man. Slow, languid, eyes drooping shut. “S’this why- hngh- s’this why my girl’s bein’ so quiet all of a sudden?” Hips stuttering forwards like he was losing control, just filthy, lusted-up little half-thrusts and drags of his length down your gummy channel. Even that was too much for his poor, overworked cock - painting your insides full with his thick, translucent precum with every swallowed-up inch. “Too cockdrunk? Too hah- full of my cum t’speak?”

You were so close - so overstimulated - you could barely string together a sentence. And you couldn’t have answered even if you wanted to - because your lovely boyfriend only rummaged his fingers deeper inside your mouth. Fuck- it felt so dirty having him fuck you like this - spitting against your lips, twitchy cock mashing deep into all your sensitive spots. Like he was reaching into your lungs - into your barely-lucid mind until you couldn’t do anything but nod. 

“Mmmpf- I-” you’re managing out, the words coming out in a thick, garbled mess that makes his cock throb. “Hngh- yes yes yes-”

“Awww, fuckin’ knew it.” he coos, and it’s all the warning you’re getting before two big strong arms of his haul you up. Falling back onto his muscled thighs in a sitting position - with you all speared like a slut down his unforgiving cockhead. Being bounced up, up, up your limp body nothing against his inhuman strength. “Shit- fuckin’ knew it- My poor girl got fucked so good she couldn’t even speak, huh?” Toji just throws his head back at the answering clench of your elastic walls, molding around each one of his ridges and veins. “How cute–” 

You cower under his weighty gaze, unable to escape. To do anything other than take it when his bicep bulges around your waist, tightening like a vice. “How so very-” Abs clenching when they ram- up- “cute-” He’s gritting his teeth, baring you with such a sweet, sultry smile, one that ghosts the very shell of your ear, “But why don’t you jus’ cum f’me now, ma.”

You don’t know whether his own words have Toji reaching his high - or maybe the sight of you does. Because all you see is black tinging your vision - then white, seeping out of the corners of your puffed-up folds, sopping a wet puddle into the non-existent space between you two.

He’s so vocal when he fucks you through your orgasm, raspy baritone wrenching out little praises like a mantra- “Yeah- yeah there we go. Louder f’me- scream it all out. I know you can do it.”

“P-please, Toji.” You don’t know what you’re begging for - and Toji doesn’t mind. Only pinning your body to his hulking one, holding you so close that your whimpered out moans are almost inaudible over his cushiony pecs. Babbling out, “Please- f-fuck it feels too good hah- m’cumming- m’cumming m’cumming-”

“Such a chatty girl, moanin’ so fuckin’ loud.” he titters. “Don’t you dare hold back that pretty voice from me, m’kay?” 

But only when your orgasm bates into tiny tingles, only when your syrupy sweet moans turn quieten down - only then does Toji pull away. Shuffling onto his knees until his hot breath was fanning your eagerly quivering cunt, soft tongue dragging up your painted white slit, “So let’s see if you scream twice as loud for this, my girl.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Shhh…

“My love…” Nanami breathes out in a ragged pant, his hot breath breezing down your spine. Arching up so sultrily when the pistons of his hips slow down, aching for more more more- “Is something hah- wrong?”

It takes you a second to raise your bleary head up from where it rested amongst all the papers on the desk, the satin of your office skirt hiking up even further when you’re rutting your hips back in a quiet tandem. “N-nothing, Ken–” your words come out hushed - hurried. 

And oh your husband looked so unfairly attractive when he was concerned, blond brows furrowing in the middle, running one hand through his disarrayed hair, the other pulling your teary eyes up to his. “You’re just being so-” There’s an experimental mash of his fat, rounded tip into your mapped-out g-spot, as if to confirm his suspicions. And Nanami grunts at the sight of you biting down on your lower lip, “-quiet…Now now-” His thumb comes to gently pry away your worried lip from under your teeth, “-what’s wrong?”

“S’jus’-” you hiccup, eyes flitting to the closed storage room door. “-m’ so close n’ someone might hear. I know Higuruma also has overtime-”

Shit - you’re so far into your little rant that you don’t notice the way his entire body stiffens, jaw clenching at the mention of your - and his - coworker. You can only gasp when Nanami’s towering figure just shoves you deeper into the cool mahogany desk. One hand on your head, the other wrapped nicely around your blabbering mouth.

“You’re right-” Nanami breathes, words tinted with a slow, dangerous purr. And it makes your velvety walls just seep a fresh gloss of your sweet sweet juices down all his long, hard inches. “-better not make a noise unless you want to get caught then, because m’not going easy on you today, darling.”

And fuck, Nanami likes to think himself a practical man - a sensible man, even. But right now all he could see was red - nothing past the way that other man had been eying you a little too closely these days, laughing at your jokes a little too loud. 

Don’t get him twisted, he knows you’d never do anything - you were his pretty lil’ wife after all, the love of his absolute soul. But sometimes, he just wanted to make you scream it out. 

Your pretty eyes bat hypnotically over your shoulder, “K-Ken- oh!”

Only to be shut up by the furious pummeling of all his rock-hard shaft, the sheer girth of it already making you keen. It’s enough for honeyed moans to bubble up in your throat, ticking in time with that angry pulsing of his thick tip massaging your plushy walls. 

“Shh shhh-” Nanami coos, and you feel his abs ripple from behind you when he leans his weight down, down, down to pin you even more helplessly against the desk. Those thick fingers of his cover your mouth even firmer, “We hafta be quiet, remember?”

If he was looking for an answer, then Nanami fully and thoroughly fucks it out of you. 

Those important documents are shuffling around everywhere, flying off the desk when you’re scrambling towards absolutely anything to keep just an ounce of your sanity. Because Nanami was hammering into you in such powerful, pressurized thrusts. Hard enough that you could feel the line of his hip bones along the fat of your ass, the circular smacks of his heavy balls along your thighs. Sure to leave marks that that sinfully short skirt of yours wouldn’t cover. 

“Ken! Ken- oh my god-” 

All you get in response is the sudden slowing of his mean pace, until your heady moans are softening down to mere whimpers. 

It still feels so dizzyingly good this way, having your snug hole stretch limitlessly around his girthy shaft. Knocking so deeply and thoroughly against your womb, clenching your saturated walls down with every graze of the neat tufts of blond at his hilt. 

“What did I say?” His mouth comes down onto yours in a heated clash of teeth and tongue and moans. So many rasping grunts furling from out of Nanami’s throat, spitting into your mouth, “Hafta- be hah- quiet. Or else Higuruma is- gonna- hear-” 

And that hypnotizing push and pull is punctuated by the greedy drag of Nanami’s thumb down your clit, spelling out little patterns. Over and over-

Thud!

“Hah- I don’t-” you’re startling when he hikes up a leg onto the desk, the change in angle making you all but scream out into his ravenous mouth. “Don’t think I even- care anymore ah!” Every one of those syrupy sweet moans falling from your lips have Nanami hammering in even deeper, rattling the desk with his strength. “Just wanna- just want you to-”

You’re gasping at the familiar work of his fingers on your sensitive nub - a flurry of letters all over. K-E-N-T-O-K-E-N-T-O-K-E-

“Say it.” he bites down on your earlobe. “Spell it out f’me.”

“M-m’gonna-”

K-E-N-T-O-K-E-N-T-O-K-E-N-T-O-

“Scream it out, no need to be embarrassed.”

“Cum!” you’re sobbing. Heaving for air when he doesn’t take even a second to slow down, “M’gonna cum, Ken. M’so f-fuckin’ close.”

His next words are murmured at the crook of your neck, dangerously above your racing pulse. Making you flinch at the sharp teeth indenting over your skin, “Then cum.”

Oh and when you do it’s like something snaps. Because all you know next is that you’re being fucked through such a delicious high. White-hot pleasure having you quivering deeper into Nanami’s hold, dragging out each one of your peaks. Your throat feels raw, head swimming so much that you almost don’t hear-

“Just the way I like you.” Leaving a lingering peck at your collarbone, “All gorgeous and-” At the sensitive underside of your jaw, “-blissed out and-” Before you’re jumping at sharp canines sinking down into the side of your neck. Hard. Possessive. 

It hurts - but it hurts so good that you don’t even register the way Nanami’s eyes flit to the door - slightly ajar now. Voice rising in volume when he finishes, “-mine.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - We’ll piss off the neighbors

“Mmpf- S-Sugu…”

“S-S-Sugu-” your beloved boyfriend is just leering, his velvety voice pitched dramatically high. Shoving apart your dangling legs so burningly wide to bully that furiously shuddering hot-pink vibrator even deeper inside your insatiable cunt. 

He’s grinning such a dangerous grin down at you, “Now, why don’t you lemme hear those pretty moans of yours like usual, gorgeous- instead of holding back?”

And all you can do is squirm around mindlessly when he’s feeding your sloppy cunt inch after smooth inch of more of the thin vibrator. Rummaging around your clingy walls so much, “Come on now-” A taunting thumb of his glides along the intensity meter - Setting 1, Setting 2. Before finally resting smugly on Setting 3. Long, dark lashes bat at you, “You’re breaking my heart here!”

“P-please!” you sob out, before immediately worrying your lower lip shut. And Geto notices - of course, he does. The determined smirk on his face turning into something a little colder, a little more predatory. 

“Aww, my poor baby doesn’t wanna speak with me.” he’s goading, leaving your plushy walls stretched full with the blissful girth of the vibrator. Letting you all but cockwarm it while he’s running a rigorous thumb over your puffed-up clit, “Tha’s fine. Whatever my girl wants, she’s gonna- get.” 

Geto’s sharp tongue is running lewd stripes up and down the crook of your neck, kissing and sucking on the corners of your lips as if he isn’t driving you insane. As if he isn’t driving himself insane. The achy, fat tip of his reddened cock kissing wetly at your glossy folds, weeping hot precum that sticks to your slit, trickling down the buried hilt of the vibrator. Oh, how he knew - had planned out - exactly how he was going to make you scream. 

But for now, he’s only pursing his lips together, letting you babble and whine unfairly to yourself. 

“S’not- not that I hngh!” your entire body jolts when he’s wordlessly increasing the intensity - Setting 4. Nervous eyes flitting down to where Geto’s lengthy cock was sitting prettily across your open legs, throbbing. Waiting. “Jus’ the neighbors- hah- we got another noise complaint, Sugu–”

He still doesn’t budge, still doesn’t say a word. This time his fingers are toying your finger even sloppier. Tweaking and circles lazily along the sensitive nub, making you all but scream-

“Please- I promise-” you’re bucking your hips up for more more more. Feeling the sopping smack! of his hefty shaft come down on your skin, splattering translucent dredges of his syrupy precum all over your skin. “Promise s’jus’ that Sugu.” Shaky fingers of yours wrap around his long, inky hair - hauling him close to meet your lips, and you could feel the ridges of Geto’s toothy grin when you crack, “Feels so good- too good. N’- jus’ want your cock- hngh! Promise was jus’ trynna be quiet because the walls are th-thin and the-”

And then it feels like you’re being split apart, such a thick intrusion to your already filled-up cunt. Soft, supple walls being contorted around the vibrating toy - and Geto’s addition of his thick, weepy tip. 

“Say please, then.”

You’re so completely and utterly fucked out that you barely even hear him at first - body moving before your mind when your lips sag open. Jumbling out a mess of, “P-please.”

“Hmmm…” Geto pretends to think, but he’s still circling open your elastic entrance to fit his needy cock inside. Taking it slow, sensual - making sure your silky sweet walls are rubbing against each and every one of the prominent veins down his middle, the rotund end of his head shoving its way inside. “S’not ‘nough - how about ‘please, Sugu’?”

“Please, Sugu!” Your nails claw their way down his broad, milky shoulders - leaving red, red marks that make him groan. That make his hips jut forward in a solid, thorough thrust, “Please- d-don’t care about the n-noise complaints hah- jus’ wanna be full of all of you.”

Geto doesn’t know if he can move, fuck, he doesn’t even know if he’s breathing. Eyes widening, head thrown back at the slightest feeble clench of your velvety walls desperately trying to accommodate around his cock and the vibrator. 

It takes beat - two, of him grinding in filthy gyrating motions, abs flexing when his slender waist surges forward. All the way until that divot at his tip was branding into your spongy cervix, painful, cum-filled balls sticking thoroughly against your ass. Somehow, he’s managing to roll his eyes, “D-didn’t hafta hah- say that much, gorgeous.”

There’s a sharp flick! 

Setting 5. 

The heady room is instantly filled by both of your moans - so loud. Yours higher-pitched and cracking pathetically at the end, Geto’s throaty, like they were being dragged from his throat against his will. 

Immediately, he bores down at you with a bit lower lip, eyes half-lidded, the corners of his mouth curled up in what almost seems like a smile. “Guess I better quiet down myself- hngh- huh?” he gasps - heaves - tremors of the vibrator rubbing up so deliciously at the underside of his throbbing shaft, jostling with each hastening ram into your gushing cunt. “B-because now that I finally got you to scream out f’me-” 

You’re mewling when his thumb comes up uncharacteristically gently to swipe away your own lips from underneath your teeth - a habit, almost, at this point after you’d gotten a very huffy email about being too disruptive at night. Like right now. “-I don’t wan’ ta hear anythin’ else. And that includes noise complaints - because soon m’gonna move ya to our own house, pretty, don’t ya worry. And there-” Your forehead is branded with a soft kiss, your g-spot with a rough ram. “-you can scream as much as ya want.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - “Please please please.”

Choso couldn’t stop even if he tried - he couldn’t hold back even one of those broken, whiny pleas wrenching from his rosy pink lips. So loud, deep voice pitching up highly at the end every time the weepy divot at the very end of his fat tip reached into the spongy bottom of your pussy. 

“Baby- please, baby–” he drags out your sweet little nickname, two of his sizeable palms coming to splay out on the curve of your hips. Just dragging your gummy cunt down like a cocksleeve, helping you ride him in easy, relentless grinds. “Does it feel good? Tell me- does it- hah-”

His breath hitches with a sudden shudder when your fingernails dig into the side of his pale neck, using the leverage to just ram your cunt down in thorough, hypnotic gyrations.

“Please!” Choso’s gasping, eyes rolling to the back of his head. You’re jostling slightly precariously on his slender hips when he’s planting two feet flat on the silky sheets to buck up, up up- “Tell me- tell me how it feels, baby.”

Your fingers tighten involuntarily at the sound of his greedy beg, making him let out such a guttural groan. The sound sends shivers running along your spine, all the way down to where he was jackhammering into your ravaged cunt. Thumbing apart your swollen folds to keep them spread enough for him to bully his girthy hilt into. So depraved. Needy. “S-so good, Cho-”

It was an accident - really - you didn’t even mean to let the little compliment slip. But it’s enough for Choso’s eager cock to expand even girthier inside you, all the blood in his body rushing to stretch your elastic walls to their limits. You could feel him everywhere, molding you to the very shape of his cock. 

“Yeah? Oh yeah?” he’s hissing, craning his neck up to mesh your lips together sloppily. Languid, delirious - kiss-bitten lips smacking when they’re sucking on your lolled-out tongue. Fuck, how he missed your voice. “Tell me- ngh! Tell me more, please.”

Oh, but really - your sweet sweet boyfriend was so pretty like this underneath you. Milky skin damp with sweat, his dark eyes dewy with tears and locked on you, mouth parting open in ragged grunts. Your favorite little melody - it made the way you bite your lip stubbornly all the more sweeter. 

There’s another glissading stream of his sweltering hot precum coating your inner walls, sloshing around in a syrupy slow rhythm inside you. “Please-” He’s crying out again after a few more branding smashes into your bulging g-spot  - lips wobbly as if he was on the verge of bawling without your voice. “Wanna hear your sweet moans, y’know? S’my f-favorite song-”

And you swear your hulking boyfriend’s mouth was upturned into such a pretty pout at that very second, soft planes of his hands caressing up and down your bent thighs. You can’t help but hum, making his head feel so lightheaded with that teasing quirk of your lips.

Or maybe it was the way your fingers clamped down tighter around his neck, sure to leave a perfect array of bruises from your splayed-out fingers. Jerking him even closer- “Fine- open that mouth if you love my voice so much.” 

You’re barely even finishing the sentence before his jaw slacks open, tongue darting out - just in time to catch the steady glob of syrupy saliva you spit out. Right onto the middle of his tastebuds, Choso’s immediately slotting his mouth against yours in an even greedier mess of a kiss. 

“Didn’t think you- hngh! like my voice that much, baby.” you’re humming, letting him hurl into a frenzy of powerful mashes into your g-spot. Some missing - drawing long, eager glides of his rounded, thick head along your cervix. “I like yours too, y’know. So much.” Leaving a lingering drag of his jutted-out bottom lip between your teeth, “S’why I ah- hngh- held back- love hearin’ you.”

And oh, every honeyed word of yours goes straight into twitchy cock, pulsing painfully into your mushy walls. Curving upwards so deliciously, Choso’s hold on you tightens - enough to draw blood, you might think, had he not cut his nails just earlier. 

He’s fucking upwards into you so solidly hard - feverish drags of you down his massive length only getting rougher and rougher until he couldn’t-

“Don’t do that, silly girl- mm- can’t live without hearing those cute moans of yours, m’kay?” Big fat tears gloss down his sharp cheeks with how stimulated he was right now, and you could feel the weighty shifting of his balls. So tight they almost felt like they could burst. “So be loud. Be as loud as possible f’me- tell me how it feels, how you ah- want more- a-and-” His fingers now cup your face, leaving all the laborious duty down to his frantic hips. Yet, Choso didn’t mind - anything that let him glide a thumb along your spit-glossed mouth, tugging out your bottom lip from where you were trapping it between your teeth, “-and say my name.”

You do - and it’s just about all you can manage out when you’re leering down to bite on Choso’s sensitive earlobe. Exactly where you knew would make him shiver the most, rutting up animalistically to bounce you up even deeper, “Then cum f’me, Cho.”

And he thinks he will - fuck, at the sound of his name rolling off your saccharine sweet tongue he couldn’t hold back even if he tried. But not before teasing a hard roll of his thumb along your clit, “F-fuck you little- ah! You first, since you’ve been hah- holdin’ out on me. N’ this time-” His glinting eyes narrow, sharp canines bared in such a viciously fucked-out grin that it makes you clamp down - hard, “-you’re gonna be the one hngh- crying out, baby–”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - CHATTERBOX!

Now, usually when Sukuna had you all splayed out like this - your trembly thighs balanced on either side of his head, puffy pussy lips so sopping wet it made his mouth water - he knew you’d let out a few pretty noises. 

A mewl when his hot tongue laps up the syrupy juices sopping from either side of your slit, a moan of his name when all he does is card the very edge of his soft muscle between them. And finally - finally - his favorite, a whiny beg for, “P-please, Kuna- no more teasing!”

How cute. 

When you miss the first - he doesn’t think much of it, instead too engrossed in thumbing apart your swollen folds, admiring the way your greedy cunt was already glistening and winking down at him so sweetly. Spitting a fat wad of his saliva right on the bullseye of your entrance. When you miss the second, he’s concerned, humming a raspy growl at the back of his throat while wrapping two plump lips around your throbbing clit. 

And when you miss that last one - oh, now you’re gonna get it. 

Smack! 

All give digits of his thick fingers come down hard on your hovering pussy, sliding a glistening syrupy wet sheen down to his wrist. 

“S’this boring to you, woman?” the famed king of cures spits his words with a low, threatening rumble of his sculpted chest. And it’s all you can do to throb, whirling your glassy eyes down at his half-lidded, darkened gaze, “Anything else you’d rather be doing right now?” 

You’re shaking your head deliriously - but that’s not enough for him, of course. 

There’s another oozing little throb from your cunt - rewarded with another branding smack! across your sensitive clit. “Don’ wanna use your big girl words, hm?” Sukuna raises a brow, still holding such dangerous eye contact with you when he hollows out his cheeks, long tongue lolling out to make out with your pussy. “Fine then- let’s let this cute pussy speak for herself, hm?”

There’s only a drawn-out, sloppy squelch ringing through the heady air when he lays his tongue flat across your glossy lips. Just teasing around the very edge of your gushy entrance before the very tip of him dances up, up, up.

“Hngh!” you’re gasping at the feeling of him grazing over your clit in a sultry push and pull - and the sudden wetness of something else swirling around your syrupy sweet hole. “Wh- is that-”

“Shhh, didn’t ya wanna stay quiet, brat?” Sukuna cuts through your words, velvety coo making you just arch down harder to drag your slobbering cunt all across his eager face. And where that mean mouth of his was teasing you, his other - larger - tongue on his stomach was picking up wherever left off. More, even. “So shut up and let this pussy talk, why don’t ya?”

Ah, it was impossible to escape him. Two big beefy hands were steadied firmly around your quaking thighs, hauling you right onto his swallowing mouth, grinding you against his jaw like his favorite meal. You’re being bounced, almost on top of him - his other tongue driving you insane. 

Reaching all the spots you could’ve never even imagined. Arching into you almost as deftly as his cocks, bullying past your puffy lips and into every bulbous areas of your sensitive spots. Fucking you so thoroughly-

“Hey-” There’s another reminder - one of Sukuna’s free hands planting a solid smack onto the very bulge of your elastic walls around his tongue. “Think she said she’s getting close- Almost didn’t hngh- catch it ‘cause you’re being a bit too hah-” He’s craning his thick neck back in for a messy kiss against your clit. “-loud-” Again. And again and again- plump smirk glittered with all your sweet sweet juices. “-dontcha think?” Smack! You’re whining in response, drunken hips pushing down as if to shut him up, “S’like you want to hngh- moan f’me. If you wanna then why are ya being so- fuckin’- stubborn.”

And fuck, you were so far gone that Sukuna almost didn’t expect a response. Half-lidded gaze locked on the trickle of drool slobbering down your slack mouth, eyes bleary, soft whimpers barely even audible over the sinful squelches! from down below. You were so loud, so drippingly wet in each one of your noises that it has him running his free palm over the outline of his aching cocks. 

“B-because-” your wobbly voice makes his fat tips just gush out in thick ribbons of precum, seeping through the fabric of his decadent yukata and onto his fondling palm. “Felt embarrassing- the position a-and hah! got nervous I’d be too whiny or somethin’, Kuna…”

“That so?” Sukuna simpers, voice a little more silky soft than before. And the gentle smack! on your cunt reads as more fond than punishing, “Stupid brat- ya think I’d be like this if I didn’t like your pretty noises?” As if to prove his point, the two hands on your body ride you harder down his mouth. Sloppier. More depraved. “Nervous for what- s’jus’ me, y’know?” Tonguing back teasingly over your glossy clit, his eyes just bore into yours. Baritone vibrato pulsing down your achy pussy, “And I love every lil’ thing you do, my girl.”

His guttural moans are still echoing from the very base of your cunt when you cum - so hard. Violent, even, that Sukuna has to wrap his strong arms around you to keep you from escaping. It’s all your poor pussy can take. Waves of pleasure taking you away. Gushing and gushing so hard-

“Sh-shiiiit-” Sukuna utters - and it’s only then that you realize just how much you’d cum, quivering hole letting out bursts of your syrupy sweet slick. Just coating the entire lower half of his face, his cheekbones, down to his pecs in everything you’d squirted.

And while his lower tongue still laps at your honeyed juices, letting each bead slide down the muscle. He licks his lips with a sigh, “Let’s ask this gorgeous cunt if she can do that on my cocks now, too, hm? N’ this time- ya better scream f’me.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - Shut up.

“Sweetheart…”

“Satoru.”

“No-” 

Maybe it was the way your sorry boyfriend was just aching to hear your sweet sweet voice moan around his name, maybe it was the way he’d been spending hours already groveling and worshiping your body. Or maybe it was the way your clingy walls just pulsed all around his weepy cock, squelching in a way that makes him salivate. 

“I told you, my girl–” he soothes out in an almost-whiny tone. Pressing an overly-wet peck at your forehead, your nose, on either side of that scolding pout on your glossed-up lips. “I’m- sorry- I’ll listen to whatever hah- gossip about your favorite show next time just please-”

Two rough hands rest at the globes of your ass, purposefully jostling your fucked-out body to face him - he wasn’t letting you escape any time soon. 

There’s the slow, lingering squelch of Gojo rolling his hips forwards in such a dizzying tandem. Shoving you further and further up those expensive silken sheets at the hotel suite he’d booked for tonight - all for his little apology. 

“I s-see that lil’ smile-” he’s grunting, forcing two fingers around your face to look right into his greedy gaze. “Aww, come on- wontcha forgive me? M’begging here- begging.” And when you’re still keeping your mouth stubbornly shut, he’s throwing your limp legs over his broad shoulders. Running a syrupy slow circle over your neglected clit, “-promise I won’t fall asleep next time ya hah- t-talk my ear off.”

You have to admit that every saturated glide of his throbbingly fat tip has your jaw slacking further and further. Honeyed moans just bursting behind your lips, he’s stretching you out so sinfully. 

And, yet, it was so fun to see the strongest all broken down like this - eyes drooping almost closed, pouty lips with a glistening sheen of spit, little whimpers sounding at the back of Gojo’s throat every time he’s knocking right into your bulged-out g-spot. It drove him absolutely insane to see you purposefully hold back your pretty moans. 

“No no no no no-” he’s frantically prying away the knuckles you’re biting down deliriously on, trying to ease out those soft little whimpers and mewls. “My stubborn girl.” Pecking lingeringly at your lips, “Won’t you just scream- f’me-”

With a singular, jutting slam! of his hard hips against yours, you’re just keening - because Gojo was just crashing angrily against your poor g-spot. No longer teasing grazes and glides along your soppingly wet walls, just daring you to beg for more as you always did. 

No, he was pressing into your g-spot with ferocious power, muscles rippling across his hulking body when he’s sliding his fat cock back, back, back- Only to reel all the way forwards, the very curve of his globular head curving thoroughly against your sweetly sensitive spots. Again. and again. And again and again-

“Ah!” you’re scrambling up onto your elbows, connecting your forehead with his own. “S’too-”

You didn’t know what you were going to say - to have him beg more- to have yourself beg for more? But whatever it was clings to your heavy tongue when you’re raising your head up to meet your boyfriend’s. 

Because oh you knew that flushed, blank expression on his face, the slight crinkle of lightning at his eyes. This fucker-

“Whoops.” Gojo’s grinning, not a drop of regret in his words. “Guess I must’ve hngh- accidentally used six eyes when I-” Another nudge of his rotund head against your g-spot, only picking up in pace. Only plugging you full of his deep, grinding inches - fucking you so thoroughly into the mattress that you could hear the bedframe creaking in protest, your own cunt squelching ravagedly. “-hah- fuck this cute pussy. But hey…” He leans his face even closer, that infuriating curl of his lips only growing, “-I don’t hear ya complainin’ now, do I, sweetheart?” 

“Especially when m’ruining you right-” Splaying out all five of his long, pale fingers across your stomach - drawing an invisible line where he was branding the imprint of the very top of his length into the bottom of your pussy. “-here?”

Fuck, he had you exactly where he wanted you. 

“Y-you’re so-” you’re managing to gasp, eyes narrowing as he leans in even mockingly closer. But you can’t hide the slutty bliss in your tone, the way you tug and tease his soft, snow strands. “-so infuriating, y’know. I shouldn’t even hah- be lettin’ you off the hook this easily.” 

He’s moaning twofold, like the sound of your voice electrifies him. Hefty shaft twitching with each piston, painfully tight balls just clenching so painfully. “Yeah- hahah- yeah, isn’t it because you love me?”

The entirety of his body shivers when you lock your legs tightly, bowing his body even closer to stick to yours. “It’s because-” you purr, batting your lashes so sultry. Spitting against his lips, “-you’re such a pain in the ass, Toru.”

And then he’s cumming - and cumming and cumming so hard that Gojo doesn’t have the time to be embarrassed. All he can really think about is the syrupy slow slosh of his seed painting inside your gummy walls, shooting out in thick dredges. 

You giggle, eyeing down at the puddle of cum and saturated slick oozing down your thighs. Leaking out of your weepy slit, “Heh…for someone that wanted me to hngh- s-speak up so much, you sure are weak, Toru.”

The second roll of his nickname on your tongue is enough for Gojo to be gushing out another wave of potent cum into your snug channel. Hissing, he’s swiping at the creamy ring forming around his hilt, pooling the mess on the large pads of his fingers before-

“Maybe s’better when you-” Bullying them between the seam of your mouth, he’s swirling around your hot tongue. “-don’t speak.” Your answering glare is enough, “J-just kidding!”

A/N. If y’all need me I’ll be in my prayer circle manifesting for a Gojo comeback…

Plagiarism not authorized.

[driverlando]

✧.* PR CHAOS

synopsis- all the times y/n has been horny on main for Lewis

before you continue: another pr smau this time for lh44, we’re so back! hope you enjoyyyy <3

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

—

hotmalecelebs

liked by yourusername, user3 and 6,425 others

hotmalecelebs Lewis Hamilton

view all 3,527 comments

user1 THE HOTTEST 🔥

yourusername raw, next question.

↳ user2 Ariana what are you doing here?!

↳ user3 PLEASE SO TRUE BESTIE 😭

user4 y/n being in the comments is sending me, she’s just like us

↳ user7 except she can actually have him 💔

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lewisf1updates

liked by yourusername, user9 and 12,357 others

lewisf1updates nothing to see here, just Lewis in the paddock recently

view all 9,268 comments

yourusername @/lewishamilton that looks heavy, can I help?

↳ lewishamilton sure, come upstairs

↳ user6 you can’t leave us on a cliff hanger…did she help? 👀😂

user9 big dick problems

↳ user10 y/n can you confirm for us

↳ yourusername yes.

↳ user15 JDKAJAHSJSJSNSNA

user11 WHYS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT THE VEINS ON HIS HANDS 🤤

—

—

lewishamilton

liked by yourusername, landonorris and others

lewishamilton Miami Vice City 🦩~

view all comments

user6 Miami just got hotter 🔥

user18 if I scroll it’s going to feel like a breakup

yourusername looks like my rides here

↳ yourusername and I’m not talking about the boat-

↳ lewishamilton it sure is

↳ landonorris have some decorum, im begging you

↳ user3 SHKSJSJAJA THEYRE TOO MUCH 😭

user13 this is why I pay for the internet

user17 the only man ever.

—

lewishamilton

liked by georgerussell63, charles_leclerc and others

lewishamilton (re)start as you mean to go on 🤙🏾

view all comments

user5 do you do weddings? I mean as the groom?

yourusername I have nothing appropriate to say

↳ landonorris omg you’re learning!

↳ yourusername you thought…🫱(‿¤‿)🫲☺️

↳ landonorris BLEACH! GET ME BLEACH FOR MY EYES RN

↳ user10 y/n is actually insane 😭😂

user15 oh yeah, just like that

user14 #needthat

—

[rafesangelita]

⋆˚✿˖° in an attempt to get sheep!reader to be more vocal about what she wants in bed, rafe only gives her what she’s able to say..

warnings: heavyyy teasing, corruption kink (?), fingering, lots of dirty talk, praise, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, cockwarming, light fluff

a/n: i see your req’s for more sheep!reader works, don’t worry i’ll be working on them soon! <3

wc: 1.8k

“come on, ‘pretty, all you have to do is use your words..” rafe’s eyes traveled down your naked form, his fingers ghosting over the soft flesh of your thighs. this was absolute torture. “rafe, i can’t!” you cried, your cheeks heating with embarrassment. your boyfriend took so much pleasure in knowing that you were far too shy to ask for what you wanted, a smug grin gracing his lips as heavy tears threatened to spill from your eyes. you looked away from him, taking your bottom lip between your teeth. “i won’t say it..” you mumbled, gasping softly when rafe dipped a finger between your glossy folds.

“won’t say what?” he taunted, barely stroking your clit before pulling his hand away. you let out a shaky breath, meeting his eyes for the first time during this whole ordeal. “please.” you whimpered pathetically, hoping, begging, rafe will give into your pleas. rafe shook his head, giving your side a little pinch. “i don’t know what you’re asking for.” he shrugged, his cock aching against his briefs. you drew your eyebrows together, your heart beating in your ears as you considered your next words. “i want you to touch me..” you whispered, your chest rising and falling as rafe offered you a teasing smile.

“touch you where? here?” he placed a hand on your knee, “here?” your arm was next, “..or here?” you whined in frustration when you felt his palm rest on your tummy. rafe was purposely making this hard for you, and he was enjoying every second of it. “no!” you spread your thighs in hopes to draw his attention elsewhere. sure enough, rafe looked down, his jaw ticking at the sight of your puffy folds. “fuck.” he cursed under his breath. “i need you down there..” you trailed a foot down his torso, stopping right below his v-line. rafe knew you what you trying to do.

“i don’t know where ‘down there’ is.. i think you have to explain it to me, doll.” rafe wasn’t going to let up. you started thinking of ways to word yourself, the implications of what you had to say only made you more embarrassed. ‘vagina’ felt too proper to use in this situation, ‘pussy’ was too lewd for your liking, and ‘cunt’ sounded so aggressive, you didn’t know what to make of it. swallowing thickly, you knew rafe wanted to hear you say the second option more than anything. in your mind, you thought if you said the dirtiest thing, he would have to give you what you were crying for.. right?

“i want you to touch my—” rafe leaned forward. no fucking way you’d say it. “m-my pussy?” it was comical, seeing the way you avoided his heated gaze. rafe had never heard a curse word fall from your lips, let alone that word specifically. “was that so hard?” rafe laughed, sitting between your thighs as he spread you open, his cock twitching at the sight of your glistening succulence dripping down your cunt. with the pad of his thumb, rafe began circling your sensitive bundle of nerves, the long awaited sensation making your hips roll forward. “don’t move.” he warned, keeping a hand on your hip.

you shuddered, settling into your soft sheets as rafe then prodded a finger at your entrance. he teased your slit, slipping just the tip of his digit inside before gathering your slick and gliding the wetness up to your clit. “feeling empty, huh?” rafe saw you pathetically clench around nothing, your eyebrows knitting together in desperation. “y-yes, please! ‘want your fingers now.” rafe was pleasantly surprised, the second time around seemed to be more easier than the first time you requested something. “look at you, you’re doing great, baby.” your boyfriend praised you, deciding to reward you with two fingers instead of one.

your breath got caught in your throat when you felt the stretch of two digits inside your cunt, your mouth falling open as you hiccuped at the feeling of rafe’s long, thick fingers curling inside of you. still using his thumb to rub your clit, you cried out when you felt him press on that gummy spot that made you see stars. “o-oh!” you whimpered, your thighs shutting around rafe’s hand. forcing your thighs open, rafe leaned his weight on one of your legs, and used his free hand to pin down the other one, forcing you to take what he gave you. “you look so pretty when you don’t know what to do with yourself.”

rafe’s words sounded muffled, your heart beating in your ears when you felt the familiar heat start to simmer in your tummy. your hand rested on top of rafe’s, his fingers interlacing with yours. “you’re taking it so fucking good,” he leaned down, taking your lips in a searing kiss, “gonna make you cum, is that what you want?” you nodded helplessly, in which rafe tsked. “say it. say that’s what you want.” he urged. with the quietest tone you could muster, you spoke. “please make me cum..” rafe would’ve appreciated you saying it a little bit louder, but he figured he was lucky if he got you to say it at all.

picking up his speed on your clit, he watched with dark eyes as your face morphed into one of full blown pleasure, your lips swollen from rafe nipping at them. the wet sounds of your cunt made your cheeks heat, your chest caving in as you teetered the edge of pure euphoria. your hand shot up to grip rafe’s arm, your nails digging into his skin as your thighs trembled from your high washing over you. rafe always stared at you in awe whenever he pushed you over the edge, the little sounds leaving your lips never failed to drive him crazy while your velvety walls squeezed around his digits.

“nghh— rafe!” you squeaked, a string of sobs tumbling from your throat as he continued to bring you down from your high. rafe littered your neck and chest with wet kisses, your fingers running across his scalp. you whimpered when rafe pulled away, your eyes trailing down his toned stomach as he slid off his briefs. wrapping a hand around your ankle, you yelped when he yanked you towards the edge of the bed, running his cock over your still fluttering cunt. “tell me you want me to fuck you,” he groaned when he felt your slick coat his length, “tell me you want my cock inside you.”

you were hysterical at this point, bending at his will as you did what he asked. “please fuck me, ray. ‘want y-your cock inside me!” you repeated, your back arching off of the sheets when he slammed into you without warning. “fuck, baby, you have no idea what you’re doing to me,” rafe leaned down, caging you between his arms, “hearing you talk like that, s’driving me fuckin’ crazy.” you wrapped your legs around his waist, his biceps on either sides of your head. he filled you to the hilt in this position, bottoming out as his pubic bone grazed your clit with every thrust.

your eyes fluttered shut as you held him close to you, his breath fanning against your cheek as he whispered the filthiest obscenities in your ear. nothing else existed when you two were like this. it was like the world stopped spinning whenever he felt you taking him so good. “you’re so fuckin’ perfect, you know that?” he squished your cheeks together with one hand, your eyebrows knitting together as you gazed up at him, “always so pliant with me, ‘makes me wanna see what other fucked up shit i could make you do.” he chuckled, his words sending a shiver down your spine.

rafe could see the slight fear in your eyes, a gentle ‘shhh’ leaving his lips as an attempt to reassure you. “don’t worry, we’ll save that for another day.” he pecked your cheek, his hips snapping into you faster than before. you held onto his broad shoulders, the sound of his skin smacking against yours made you want to curl in on yourself, the lewd echo of it bouncing off of the walls. soon your legs were feeling like jelly and you couldn’t keep them locked around rafe’s build. sensing your struggle, he pinned the back of your knees against your chest, getting a full, clear view of his cock sliding in and out of your soaked pussy.

“ah, fuckkk,” rafe drawled out, absolutely hypnotized at the sight. he glided with ease, your folds hugging him snugly. the grip you had on his cock was enough to make his muscles constrict with the need to fill you up, your pretty clit glistening with his precum. “m’gonna need to film this next time, you’re fuckin’ unreal.” he choked back a groan when you somehow managed to clamp around him even tighter. “h-holy shit,” rafe’s hips stuttered, his face scrunching when he began twitching, your second orgasm of the night hitting you with more force than the first one.

as if on cue, rafe peaked when you gripped the knitted blanket at your side, both of you moaning so loud you were sure ms. celia, the sweet old lady next door, could hear you two. rafe didn’t stop fucking into you until every last drop of his cum was lost in the heaven that was your cunt, his eyes rolling back when he stayed nestled inside of you. rafe helped your legs back down, your chest rising and falling with each breath you took. swallowing thickly, rafe sighed as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your hairline. “my god..” he looked at you incredulously.

how you had that innocent sparkle in your eyes right after doing what you did was beyond him. “that wasn’t so bad..” you whispered, running a finger down the underside of rafe’s jaw. “no, not at all. you did amazing.” he was still inside you when he leaned all his weight on you. you always felt so safe and secure every time rafe did this. you reveled in the feeling of his heart beating against your own, your eyelids heavy as sleep threatened to come over you. “i could fall asleep like this..” rafe mumbled. you giggled, a lazy smile gracing your features.

as much as you would’ve loved that, a hot shower was far more needed. after ten minutes of convincing rafe you two should get cleaned up for bed, and after round two ensued under the shower head, you and your boyfriend had finally cuddled up under the sheets, his warm skin mingling with yours. once you two exchanged ‘i love you’s’, you were out like a light. the next morning you had went out and checked the mail, spotting ms. celia rocking on her chair with her morning coffee in her hand. “good morning!” you waved, in which she smiled. “how did you sleep, dear?”

“just fine! i had a pretty long night..” butterflies fluttered in your tummy at the memory. “oh, i bet! it sure sounded like it.”

[milawritess]

Wherever you go, that's where I'll follow — Gojo Satoru

pairing: Gojo Satoru x fem!reader

synopsis: crushed by the pressure of his work, Satoru and the reader's relationship begins to spiral. You do everything you can to make him happy, but you fear it's not enough. Maybe it never was. After a miscalculation that could have resulted in innocent lives being lost, the situation takes a turn for the worse.

Word count: 17k+ (I'm sorry in advance)

genre: heavy angst with happy ending

warnings: heavy angst, swearing, reader is a motherly figure to Megumi but their relationship is a bit strained, mentions of depression and self-doubt, reader is a sorcerer, fighting, insecurity, arguments, and breakups (?), descriptions of gore, mentions of sexual intercourse (mdni), depictions of a complicated and untraditional relationship, reader gets hurt, hardly edited/proofread (oops), gojo is fed up and mean :(

a/n: this is the first and longest thing I've ever posted on here lol. I felt like there was a lack of sorcerer!reader, so I played around with that concept a little bit. other than potentially shitty writing (sorry for any typos or grammatical errors), I truly hope you enjoy <3

“Get out.”

The hash sentiment lingers, hanging heavily in the air. 

“Well, hello to you too.”

He hears your feet shuffle across the floor as you stumble to take your shoes and coat off. “I just came to check on you.”

“And I’m fine,” he responds without moving, one arm up, draping over his aching eyes. He lies on the living room couch, one lanky leg propped up at an angle.

“You’re clearly not fine,” you respond, seeming unphased. “Have you eaten anything?” You ask, waiting for a response that never comes. “Okay, I’ll make your favorite ramen.” 

He feels the side of the couch dip, your hand settling on his chest. Your fingers were greedy like you couldn’t stop yourself from playing with the fabric or caressing his taut muscles. Your voice is gentler when you speak this time. “Do you want an ice pack? Some tea?”

You two have done this dance before. You come home to find him exhausted, overworked with a migraine that could tranquilize an elephant. And just like always, you carefully slip his shoes off and unbutton the sleek black jacket to his uniform. It’s hard for him to stay mad about anything when you’re this kind, this caring. 

“Satoru, please say something.”

“There’s nothing to say.”

Your voice was so gentle. So sweet, saccharine, and so fucking patient. A voice you only ever reserved for him and for his ears only. A gentle whisper carried in a gentle breeze. It was his favorite sound. 

But not tonight. 

So you try something else. Sweet kisses along the corner of his lips. You’re even bold enough to move his arm, the arm he was using to desperately block out any light or simulation. You kiss his eyelids, his forehead, and cheeks—feather-light. Your hand slides up his chest before reaching his face. You caress your thumb under his closed eyes, and your other hand finds his hair, gently massaging his temple. He has all of you. Every bit. 

“Let me take care of you.” If it were any other night, your breath fanning his neck would have shattered him; goosebumps would have wrecked his body, he’d shiver, and everything in him would ease, and all of his stress would slip away into nothingness. He never had to be the strongest with you. You would render him down to nothing but a simple man with just a few words. “You don’t look too good, honey. I’m sorry you’re not feeling well.” For a woman so strong in your own right, a woman of unyielding dignity and poise and unwavering determination to succeed, this is his favorite side of you. 

But not tonight. 

When his hand clasps your wrist, he feels your whole body freeze against his. Maybe you were surprised. Maybe you predicted this and were preparing yourself but-

The tongue-lashing dies in his throat when he opens his eyes. Just a peak to your face makes him falter. You were pouting. Worried. “I’m fine.” it’s harsher than you deserve but kinder than the thoughts swirling through his head a second ago. 

He’s agitated. Stuck in the same old system that continues to fuck him over—his students over. 

And yet, you just looked too beautiful. 

You pull away, finally taking the hint. Then, you stand, fully removing yourself from him and stepping away. Your body heat quickly disappears from where you once sat, and he quivers. The room was quiet once again. 

The room remained quiet even as you placed a hot bowl of ramen on the table beside him, a glass of water, and two pills. 

You slept alone that night. 

-

You remember when you first met Megumi. 

“Who the hell are you?” 

You never would have expected that to be the the words from a child you had just met. You raised a brow. “Well, aren’t you a fucking, brat?” 

You were different back then—colder, angrier. You were similar in that sense.

Oddly enough, maybe that’s what gravitated him to you.  

You’re not sure when it happened, but gradually, the harsh edges of you began to… change. Not entirely softened, as thorns remained, but you bloomed, red petals and all. You grew softer, kinder, more patient—and finally—your heart had made space for others. The fear of loss remained, but you had never cared for someone so fragile. No one had ever cried for you, reached for you with small chubby fingers, or depended on you as he once had. You never had someone in your life that needed to be nurtured, protected, and guided. 

He was just a boy. 

Over time, you realized that if you remained unchanged, perhaps he would never grow into the man he needed to be. You’re not sure why he picked you, why he looked up to you of all people, but he did. He found comfort in you and followed you like a little duckling with a little waddle and permanent scowl. 

There wasn't a rhyme or reason. He chose you, and you chose him. 

Soon enough, you were waking him up for school, running your hands through his messy, dark locks. You were making him bento boxes, running to parent-teacher conferences, and having hard but meaningful conversations with him in his room about his troubling behavior. 

Then you were hugging him as he cried, as he revealed the same dark thoughts you once had about yourself. 

You wished this world wasn’t so cruel, so dark. You hope that in a different life, he would have grown into a normal kid, with hopes and dreams and a list of things he wanted to do and go out and experience. You didn’t want him to be shackled to a world that’s left you so scarred.

You fought for any sense of normality you could give him. If that meant confronting the higher-ups, so be it. At times, you even confronted Satoru. 

He was just a boy. 

Fire never harmed you;  it never dared to scorch your skin. You commanded and held domination over nearly every flicker of heat. He was so small when you met him; you remember the first time you saw his small form shiver in the cold. It made you anxious. Despite buying him the heaviest winter coat you could find, you were beside yourself, always wondering—is he warm enough? 

But, long were the days of you bundling him up in his jacket, tying his shoes, and tugging beanies over his dark hair and red ears. Long were the days of you clasping his little hands in yours to bring them warmth when the air grew too bitter. He grew older, smarter, wiser, and stronger. The boy that used to cling to your skirt after a hard day at school now stood inches taller than you. 

You knew that one day he’d leave you, and you were okay with that. Seeing him so ready for the world made you happy. You worried—of course you still worried—but you were so proud. He was hesitant, unsure at times, and sometimes even looked back to you for assurance. 

You were always there, smiling, ushering him along. 

You can do it. I believe in you. 

You grew up together, you think. Sometimes, you wondered if he ever paid for your shortcomings, or if he remembered your failures as a caregiver, but just like you did him, he’d assure you with a soft nudge and a gentle smile. 

He knows you did the best you could with what you had.  

He was just a boy. 

Your boy. 

He wasn’t yours, but you loved him like he was. Only as he grew did you realize the lines you had crossed. 

He doesn’t remember his mother, but you’re sure he remembered her smile, perhaps her touch, or the sound of her laughter. You never meant to impose on her memory.

When it happened, he had just gotten into Tokyo Jujutsu High, and Satoru took him on his first official mission. You no longer had the means of pushing this off; you couldn’t beg Satoru or the higher-ups for another month, another week, another day. Megumi wasn’t a normal kid. He was a sorcerer and needed to start fulfilling his duties and mastering his technique.

“You can’t avoid the inevitable. You can’t protect him forever,” Satoru had once told you. 

You knew he was right. 

You stayed home that day, anxious and worried, but you knew Megumi would be alright. Satoru was with him. Even if the tall man was a bit harder on Megumi than you, you knew he’d keep him safe. 

However, your worst fears came to fruition. Megumi wasn’t the same after that mission. 

You remember. Satoru’s eyes were stern that night while Megumi's eyes never left the floor as he made his way to his room. 

You remember thinking—what could I do to make my boys happy again? 

After all, they were your everything, the reason you stood here now with a full heart. Things were newer for you and Satoru then, but he kissed you that night, warm, large hands gently holding your cheeks. He missed you a little bit extra that day. You were nervous, hesitant to fall into the sanctuary of his embrace, but it was only a matter of time until you were fully, devotedly his.

 “Are you okay?” You had asked, only for him to nod his head. 

“Yeah. Of course, I am, angel. Megumi is shaken up, but he’ll be alright too.” 

You made Megumi’s favorite dinner that night—the same beefsteak he’s raved about since he was only six. Well, he never raved, but you perfectly remember the first time you made it, which happened to be the first time he tried it. He could barely get his chin over the table to scope his food into his mouth. He wasn’t good with chopsticks yet, so he used a little fork, which he held in his tiny fist. His little eyebrows raised before dipping down, creasing at the inner corners as he concentrated on the flavor. He murmured it’s good, and you remember being so proud of yourself. That was one of the first times you felt that you were doing something right by him. You made the same dish on occasion, and time only helped you perfect the recipe. 

Megumi never came out of his room that night. The lights were off when you knocked. Even after hearing no response, you had cracked open the door, poking your head inside. 

“Gumiii,” you stepped into his room. He was on his bed, groaning as you flicked the light on. He turned his back to you. “I made your favoriteee.”  

You had sat on the edge of his bed, a hot plate of food in your hands. “C’mon, it’s the beefsteak you like. Nice and warm.”

“‘m not hungry,” he had grumbled. 

You sighed. “The mission must have been unpleasant.” He remained still. “I’m sorry, Gumi. Satoru said you did well! I’m proud of you—” he flinched from your touch, snapping his arm away from your reach. You froze, having felt the coldness of his rejection. “If you don’t want to talk about the mission, how was your first day at your new school?” You asked. “Do you have any classmates you like?”

“Just quit it already…” he had murmured. “I’m not in the mood.”

Your shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry. I just want to make sure you’re okay. My first mission was tough too, and you already know I wasn’t great at making friends either–” you winced, biting your tongue.  This was coming out all wrong. “… are you okay, Megumi?” 

“I’m fine!” He clipped, pushing himself upright in bed. “Just leave me alone and stop acting like you’re my mom already!”  

You remembered—and just the memory of that night shambled your heart. You could never forget the hurt those words caused and how you couldn’t show it. 

You had smiled wearily. Then, you placed his dinner on his desk. “…you’re right,” you echoed. “I’m not her, never could be. I’m sorry if I imposed. I never meant to.”

You never spoke of the incident, but you remembered that things were tense between Satoru and Megumi for a short while after that. You told Satoru to drop it, but you had a feeling the poor boy received a tongue-lashing from Satoru. You were never sure, though, and you could never prove it. 

You just remembered feeling cracks in the foundation of the home you never knew you had so carefully crafted, brick by brick. Some of the warmth was gone—a warmth you never knew was quite there until it wasn’t. 

Little by little, you pulled back. Megumi moved into the student dorms shortly after, and he needed you less and less. You no longer made him bento boxes or his favorite beefsteak. You bit your tongue with the lectures: Megumi, that’s not nice, or Megumi, you need to have more faith in yourself. You can do it.  

Though the bitter bite of cold never entirely touched you, heated by an unquenchable fame, you pulled back your hand when you reached for him. He left you seared—burned. 

You still worried. You never knew if you were giving him too much or not enough. So, you left most of the mentoring to Satoru now.  It’s been a few months since the incident, and now you only ever speak to him if he approached you first. 

That's why you were happy when you spotted him in town. You offered him a small, shy wave. He unexpectedly approached you and asked how you were and what you’d been up to. However, the most unexpected part was when he asked if you were busy. You shook your head, and it was impossible to hide you beam when he offered to get you hot chocolate from the same coffee shop you used to take him to after school in the colder months.

However, it seemed you weren’t the only one confused by Satoru’s recent behavior. 

“Huh?”

“Gojo didn’t want me going on my mission,” Megumi reiterated. 

You blink a few times, tapping your fingers against the styrofoam cup in your hands. “Huh. He’s never done that before.”

“He doesn’t think I’m ready. He took the mission himself.”

“He said that? That he doesn’t think you’re ready?”

“Well… not exactly.” He scowls slightly, looking down at the cup of hot chocolate. “But he damn well implied it.”

“Gumi,” you frown at the boy. He doesn’t make eye contact with you; he looks forward now, gazing out the window and watching the fresh snow coat the ground. 

He was upset. 

“He could’ve at least taken me with him.”

For a moment, you see that same little boy you met over ten years ago and that same dejected look on his face after being let down one too many times. It breaks your heart. 

“If Satoru took the mission and went alone, I’m sure it’s for a good reason.”

He wants to say more but opts for something quick and sweet. “Yeah. Maybe.”

You have to do something. Quick. Anything to make him a bit happier. “I have a mission later in Osaka. I’ll be catching the 2 pm train. Wanna come? I could use the extra help.” 

He’s quiet for a moment, thinking, you presume, but he nods. “Yeah, sure. I don’t have anything else to do.” 

���Great! And just so you know, we’ll probably be dealing with a grade one or two.” 

He pauses momentarily before calmly asking, “And you need help with that?”

“Uh, yeah. Any help is much appreciated. Plus, I haven’t seen you much recently.” You smile brightly, and he turns his head, eyes finding the ground, looking a little bashful. 

“About that…” 

“Don’t worry about it,” you wave him off. “You’ve been busy with school, and I know that.”

“But that’s not–”

“It’s okay, Megumi,” you smile again, resisting the urge to reach across the table and gently squeeze his hand. “I get it.”

He gives you a look, a small disgruntled scowl. He wanted to say more.

“Alrighty then.” You stand, stretching from sitting in the chair. “I’ll buy you another hot chocolate for the road. We should probably start getting ready to leave.”

-

The mission goes well. An abandoned warehouse in Osaka conjured up a nasty looking grade three, but Megumi held his own just fine—like you expected. He’s grown much stronger and more sure of himself. You’re proud. Seeing how far he’s come certainly puts a smile on your face. He’s not a little boy anymore, you realized. He’s growing into a fine young man. 

Urg. Stop getting emotional. 

However, after stopping for a later dinner, you both arrived home late, around nine or so. 

“You did good tonight, Megumi,” you tell him for the nth time. 

He rolls his eyes, tucking his hands deep into his pockets. “You’ve told me that already.”

“I know, I know. It doesn’t change the fact that I’m proud of you. You’re getting so much stronger.”

Instead of brushing you off like all the other times, he sighs before offering a forced “thanks.” 

“Alrighty then. Try and get some sleep, okay? I’ll see you and the others sometime tomorrow, yeah?”

“Sounds good. Get back home safe.”

You nod, smiling. You make sure to watch him as he goes, making sure he gets inside before turning around. He’s capable of taking care of himself, but some habits never grow old. Making sure he gets inside anywhere safely has always been something you’ve prioritized, whether he was going to a friend's house, school, or boarding the train. 

You loved him like your own, but you knew he wasn't. After all, it was only a few months ago now that he reminded you that he wasn't yours.

You’re not my mom. 

It hurt—it still does—but you never held it against him. You still loved him nevertheless. Your relationship might have shifted but it doesn’t negate the fact that you care for him and would gladly give your life if it meant keeping him safe. 

Then, there was Kugisaki and Itadori—two others slowly weaseling their way into your heart. They’ve helped Megumi so much; he might be too proud to admit it, but they’ve helped him come out of his shell; they were his friends, and you knew they had each other backs. 

You sigh, a translucent cloud of white floating up and above your head. Just like always, your thoughts shift to blue eyes. Satoru. You’ve missed him today. No calls or obnoxious spam texts. It’s not unusual per se, especially when he gets busy. Regardless, you missed him.

But, something is bothering you. He wasn't communicating with you and he usually tells you these things. Even if he didn't have the time to tell you something right away, he'd eventually find a moment to talk to you. This time around, he didn’t. He didn't tell you he was leaving or about the whole ordeal with Megumi.

He just got up and left. You woke to a cold bed and an empty house. No text message, no note with a silly doodle. When you called him in the morning, it went right to voicemail. Eventually, when you pull up your shared text messages to check for anything new, you only saw the message you sent him from the day before. At a loss, you type out a quick message. You didn't think it would make things better, but at least it was something.

I hope you have a good day today :) 

It was all you could really muster up after last night. He seemed so agitated, and so fed up. You blamed it on stress; he isn’t usually like that. Usually, his touch was careful, calculated as if you were fixed of glass. You missed his lame jokes and mischievous grins when he was up to no good. You weren't offered any of that last night. Or the night before. Even the night before that. 

You’re starting to worry. 

He always bounces back so quickly. The only thing that typically gets him this mad are the higher-ups. Which, in Megumi's case, makes sense. You can see why Gojo would intervene if they gave him a dangerous mission. 

But why didn’t he take Megumi with him, at least?

Hm.. maybe it was beyond Megumi's skill set. Would the elders be stupid enough to set him up? They did it to you long ago, but they wouldn’t be bold enough to do it to the boy with the ten shadows technique, would they?

Or maybe Satoru… just doesn’t want to be near you?

Urg. You roll your eyes at your own selfish thoughts. Satoru wouldn’t do something like that. He’s already overworked as it is. Maybe you should make him something. A nice dinner? Or maybe he needed a pick-me-up? Kikufuku? You’re sure you could find the recipe online. 

You're torn, so you decide to make both. Maybe you'll even put on a nice dress. 

You decide to call him, and after a few rings, he answers. “Hey, honey,” you say sweetly, happy he even bothered to answer your call. "I was wondering when you’d be home tonight. I want to make you a nice dinner.”

He’s quiet again—too quiet. “Dinner? Tonight?” 

“Yeah, you’ve been so busy lately. I figured you’d like that.” 

He hums into the phone, sounding a bit lighter. “Dinner does sound nice…” 

Your smile widens. You could hear the underlying stress in his tone; it was flatter than usual, but at least he was trying. “... I’ll even put on your favorite dress?” 

He chuckles a bit. “Tempting, but I’ll probably have to leave after dinner.”

“Oh,” you murmur, wincing slightly at the rejection. Maybe you’ve gotten too spoiled—too accustomed to him pushing off his responsibilities all for the sake of spending a few more moments with you. Were you being too greedy?  “Are you okay? They’re not stretching you too thin, are they?”

He sighs in a carefree tone. “I'm doing fine. Same old thing, just a different day,” is all he offers, but you can tell he’s withholding. 

“I can help, y’know,” you offer gently. “If you have too many missions, I can take a few off your plate.”

“Nah,” he tells you a bit arrogantly. “It’s better if I handle it.”

Now you’re really starting to feel the distance. He usually reserves the softer parts of him for you. You suppose he just didn’t have the patience to do so right now. “You, uh, got into it with the higher-ups I heard,” you mention, trying to keep the conversation going but approaching from a different angle. “Megumi was telling me you even took his mission. I think he was a bit upset you didn’t take him with you. How come you never told me?”

“How come you never told me you were going to Osaka? Or the fact that you took him with you?”

Your stomach twists, unease bubbling in your chest. You didn’t like where this was heading. “I– it’s never bothered you before,” you manage, though your voice falters, dying down into nothing but a whisper. “And it’s not like you’ve been… wanting to speak to me recently. I haven't had the time to tell you much of anything," your trail off, your voice slowly fading before you begin again. "Did I do something to make you mad?”

The silence that follows is unbearable—longer than you ever imagined it could be. “Satoru… Please just talk to me.”

“I gotta go,” his tone is cold, clipped, and final. 

There’s a click as he hangs up, and the silence becomes deafening and threateningly absolute.

-

You realize you miss the way he used to look at you. Not the way he'd gaze at you, but in the way he would gaze into you, as though you were ever the only thing that ever really mattered.

After your last conversation with him, you were unsteady. You hated how you stayed in bed for hours, analyzing everything he's said to you recently, dissecting his every action. You hated how needy you suddenly felt, even while laying there, in his bed, in his clothes. He paused just a second too long before answering you now, as if he had to must up the courage and energy to do so. His laugh no longer came out easily. Others might miss it, but you never could. It was still rambunctious, taking up a whole room, but to you, it felt forced, brittle even. You've known Satoru at his best, and you've also known him at his worst.

When he looks at you now, you wonder if he's really seeing you. Painfully, you realize you haven't seen him; not without his eyeband on at least. Last night you did, for the first time in a while, but he seemed agitated.

The worst part was that you didn't know how to bring yourself to confront him. You struggled, unsure which pretty words and cadence would unluck the distance between you two.

Did something happen on one of his missions? Was he stressed? Had the higher-ups pushed him too far, testing his patience?

Or was it you? Was this somehow your fault?

Did you scare him away? Have you said too much, cared too deeply, loved too loudly?

You weren't sure, but you had to try something.

You were grateful you were cooking him dinner tonight on your day off. It was the least you could do, and you adored taking care of him. You choose hot pot, something you and Satoru have tried at home before. It took over a few hours to prepare, but it was worth it. You made two broths, you sliced up shabu-shabu and wagyu beef and even went to the extent of watching a video to make a dipping sauce. Unfortunately, you forgot one of the ingredients for the kikufuku mochi and didn’t want to risk making something he didn’t entirely like. Luckily, you had spare time to run down to the kikufuku store right before it closed. Of course, you grabbed all his favorite, two boxfuls, in fact. He was a big guy, so you hoped you had more than enough food for him to indulge.

You and Satoru were together. Though he never outright asked you to be his, you knew. It was an unspoken thing, and you were content with that. For as goofy and eccentric as that man could be, it was rather surprising how he was never outright with what he was actually feeling. 

He was damn good at showing it, though. In more ways than one. 

You feel it in the way he’d always reach for you after a nightmare. Shaking, needy hands tightly clasping at your waste, fearful of you disappearing and slipping to a place where he could not reach you. Don’t ever go where I can’t follow. Please. His face would nuzzle into your neck, sharply inhaling your scent. You’d hold him, whispering endless promises. I’m here. I’ll always be here. Or it's okay. Breathe, my love. I’m with you. 

You feel it on the nights he’d pin you beneath him, his grunts and moans echoing in your ears as he fills you so completely. He’d beg, no demand you—tell me you’re mine. Only mine. 

And, of course, you’d eagerly nod, overwhelmed with the pleasure only he could strum out of you so perfectly. ‘m yours. All of me—yours. 

You feel it in his protective gaze, his eagerness to hold you in the life vest of his arms. You felt it late into the night, damp bodies pressed against one another; low lighting, quiet laughter, and secrets revealed. His dreams, his wishes, his what ifs—the parts of him that no one knew or considered. Or when he handed you a silver key with a handsome and cheshire grin. What do you say? He was lovely, every bit of him, especially his gentle and selfless heart that you would never take for granted like the rest of the world seemed to. 

You feel it when he comes home from overseas and how his strong arms hold onto you just a bit longer, a bit tighter. You feel it with how he smiles into your neck or that one time at the airport when he lifted you up and spun you around, uncaring who saw. 

You feel it in the way that it was unspoken. You feel it in his cursed energy and how it perfectly intertwined with yours, reaching for you, comforting you when his hands could not. You especially feel it in the necklace he gifted you—the one your fingers were playing with now: a silver chain with cerulean sapphires, the same breathtaking shade of his eyes. His cursed energy, carefully imbued into the stones, was like carrying a piece of him with you—always, wherever you may go, and it rests directly above your beating heart. 

He might not voice it, but you feel it. He loved you. And you certainly loved him. 

So when had it become so hard to reach him? Why does he seem so intangible all of a sudden? Something deep and unsettling blooms in your stomach. 

And now that you think about it…

When was the last time you two did any of that? When was the last time his careful hands caressed you?

Only Satoru could make you this worried or make you feel this displaced. A sense of panic strikes you, and you pull out your phone to text him when you realize he’s thirty minutes late. Usually, that wouldn’t bother you, but–

After only three rings, you're sent to voicemail. When you check his location, he’s at the high school. Should you check on him? Or would that make him… mad?

He toru! Dinners ready. When do you think you’ll be home? Miss you. 

You bite your lip. He quickly read your message, but those three little bubbles never show up. 

Nothing. Just nothing. 

Maybe he’s staying up late writing the report for his latest mission? 

“eek!” Your phone pings, and after a round of hot potato, you see he’s texted you back. 

Only to be met with more disappointment. 

Dealing with something urgent. Don’t wait up. 

You frown, knowing you should drop it, but you can’t. 

Satoru…

He’s typing faster now. What?

You pause, thumbs hovering over letters you hesitate to type. What’s going on? You’ve been off lately. 

I’m fine. Just busy. 

Do you want me to bring you dinner to the High School?

Those three bubbles appear and disappear more times than you can count. No. I said don’t wait up. 

You know I don't sleep well without you.

He responds in a heartbeat. It wouldn’t be the first time. 

Your patience is wearing thin for the first time since this ordeal started. Are you saying you won’t be coming home tonight? 

You’re offered no response. He doesn’t even open your message. For the second night, you lay in a cold bed. Except, Satoru doesn’t come home. 

Only he could fracture you so completely. 

-

During your next mission, you brought the whole trio along. According to the report you were handed, you were only dealing with a grade three, but there was also an Infestation in the area. You could use the backup.

You had initially asked Megumi, but once Yuji caught wind, he was adamant that he tagged along, and, according to Nobara she had nothing else better to do. 

“Are you guys sure? It’s your day off.”

Yuji shrugs, both arms up, hands up and behind his head. “Yeah, I’m game.”

“Me too,” Nobara voices with a small glint in her eyes. “I got something new I want to try out anyway. We didn’t get to go on a mission last week as it is.”

You paused. "Huh? Gojo didn’t take you on any?”

“Nah,” Yuji shakes his head. “I think he’s been busy or something.” He looks at Kugisaki. “Hasn’t Gojo-Sensei seemed a little… off?”

Nobara nods. “Uh yeah. He hasn’t been himself at all. We figured you’d know something,” Nobara says, curious eyes scanning you. 

“Huh… I’m not sure. We haven’t gotten around to talking lately.”

Megumi hums, though it sounds more suspicious than his usual passive tone. 

Though they weren’t necessarily your students, you figured there was no harm in taking them. You've done it before and having them around was always like a breath of fresh air—reminding you of why Satoru dedicates himself so fully to his cause and being a teacher. They give you a reason to get stronger and keep fighting. You loved these kids and all their bickering. 

Except, this mission doesn’t go anything like you had expected. The report was wrong—a grade two was ambling through the abandoned schoolhouse. That was fine; the four of you were more than enough to kill it. The infestation was a bit overwhelming, but you had their backs, and they were nothing but pesky small curses lower than a grade four. 

Everything went well when the ambush happens. You all saw it: right in front of your eyes, a grade one emerging from the shadows, born into something nasty. It's skin oozed a sickly black slime that clung to its misshapen body. Its face—or lack there of—was dark and amorphous, split by a jagged maw that stretched impossibly wide, revealing rows of sharp serrated teeth, ready to cut and slash through flesh like a meat grinder. Other that is daunting appearance, the only other notable thing about it was its speed.

You told the kids to back down, but it was already too late. They were already involved, stuck in the heat of battle and fighting as a seamless unite. They were more than capable of standing on their own. 

But you needed them out of here. Your obligation was to protect them no matter how eager they were to help. However, before you could think of your next move, the curse made one last self-preserving attack. It opened in wide jaws, releasing several red beamed energy blast aimed directly at stone pillars. 

You had no time to think, only react. In an instant, you surged forward towards the trio, faster than their eyes could react. Grunting, you knocked them back, glass shattering as you kicked them through a window. You felt the impact ripple through your body, fully knowing you knocked the wind out of Megumi and Yuji. However, they recovered quickly, their instincts sharp enough to catch Nobara–

Right in time before the building collapsed. 

The building groaned like a wounded beast, its entire frame buckling from lack of support. Stone walls crumbled into clouds of dust and debris, windows shattered in explosive bursts, steel beams twisted and snaped with sickening shrieks. The ground trembled violently as the structure gave way, collapsing into a chaotic heap of concrete, rubble, and smoke, swallowing everything beneath. Including you.

You survived. Reinforcing your body with cursed energy made you strong enough to withstand the impact, and your heavenly restriction certainly helped. Nevertheless, you still took on quite a bit of damage from the tons of metal and concrete.

You woke up under the rubble with a startling gasp, choking on the dust. Were you out for a few seconds? Minutes? You were unsure, but the only thing pushing you to stand was the panic coated in Megumi’s voice. He was calling for you, and so were the others. You could hear the strain in their voices, the utter distraught. You healed your broken leg and the gash on the corner of your forehead, ceasing your gushing blood. You gathered yourself and your strength before pushing. They found you quickly after that, noticing a heap of rubble moving. They ran, rushing to help you push back concrete that threatened to suffocate you. You never did like tight spaces. 

Thankfully, you were alright. The kids were safe as well.

However, the curse had escaped. Megumi was visibly shaken, his fingernail cracked, bruised, and bleeding from digging urgently through the rubble to find you. 

Everyone was on edge. It wasn't their fault you didn't react quickly enough. You were more than capable; maybe that's why the failure stung so much.

You let yourself down. You let them down.

You were spiraling into a dark place quickly. The guilt threatened to swallow you whole. Gojo was still nowhere to be seen. You didn't have the strength to call him. You’re not sure what you could even say. You’ve fucked up before, but never to this extent. Not to where a whole building collapsed. 

“Good morning. A tragic incident occurred last night when an abandoned school collapsed around 7 pm. Authorities are currently investigating the cause, and preliminary reports suggest that the collapse could have been due to a structural weakness—one of the many reasons why the school was abandoned in the first place. We will continue to monitor the situation as more information becomes available–"

Megumi gently grabs your phone and locks your screen. Wordlessly, he shakes his head before pocketing your device. You’re too exhausted to ask for it back. 

“Are you sure you’re okay, Sensei?” Yuji's voice was soft, the first voice to break the ice. You look up from your hands, unsure how long you’ve been lost in thought. You force a small smile as you gaze at the three kids. You were sitting across from them in the waiting area outside the council room. 

“I’m alright. Are you guys?"

“We’re all fine,” Megumi cuts in quickly. “We’re– we’re more than okay.”

“That's good,” you trail off. “That's really good.”

Uncertainty hung dangerously in the air. What happened now? You were okay, but for how long? 

You knew you were in for a lashing with all the collateral damage you caused. It was supposed to be a simple mission. This wasn't supposed to happen. You four were fine, but did anyone else get hurt? 

You flinch at your own thought. You don't think you could live with yourself if innocent lives were lost.

“Sensei?” Yuji's soft, unsure voice cuts in once more. When your eyes make contact, he smiles brightly. You can tell it’s forced. “After this, wanna go get something to eat? There’s this great sandwich shop down the street!”

“Y–yeah!” Nobara sits up straight after being less than conspicuously nudged by Yuji. “It’s pretty good. We went the other day–”

The council room door creaked open. The higher-ups were waiting, shrouded in shadows and faces hidden. Even if you couldn't see them, the tension was palpable. Even without seeing them directly, you could sense their anger, smell it as it rolled off of them in a quiet, unspoken fury. You glance at the kids once more, this time with a gentle, reassuring smile curling at your lips. 

Everything would be okay.  

-

Everything was, in fact, not okay. 

The air was heavy as you entered your office. Your limbs ached, your head throbbed, and every breath felt like dragging glass through your lungs. You had thought the worst of it was over, and slowly, you felt your body begin to shut down, but only when there were no prying eyes to see how you compensated for your injuries. Even after using RCT, you had a limp—your bones were mended but not quite right. Your head was no longer bleeding—but still, you weren't quite right. 

You dismiss it as exhaustion; after all, you had just learned RCT not too long ago. Maybe you missed something. However, this wasn’t anything you couldn't handle on your own. You could see Shoko, but why bother her? You’ve endured far worse. Dealing with a sore body and a headache for the next few days wasn’t out of your jurisdiction. 

When you open the door, a flickering lamplight reveals a tall frame standing by your desk. Even before your eyes dance upon his sharp and still silhouette, the air shifts—your soul already knows he is there. Satoru.

But, his eyes never meet yours; you weren’t blessed enough to see them, a bright blue illuminating in the absence of light. His eyes were covered with a familiar dark cloth. However, you didn’t need to see them to know that the usual warmth they held as he gazed upon you was gone. In its place was a coldness that turned your stomach.

“Satoru–”

“I know,” he says, voice clipped as he turns to face you. “I read the reports.” Your heart sinks as he haphazardly tosses the report down to your desk. 

You’re exhausted, unsure of where to even begin. So many questions floated in your weary mind. Where were you? When did you get here? Please, don’t be mad at me. 

It’s funny how all your dignity, poise, and strength to endure are gone with him. You already took one berating from the elders, and you’re not sure you could handle another. 

Not from him. 

“But, I want to hear it from you.” He stepped closer, his height making him all the more domineering. “What happened out there? And how the hell are my students caught up in all of this?”

“The report was wrong. It was a grade two, not three, but we handled that just fine. We cleared out the area and completed the mission, but we were ambushed. A grade one appeared, destroyed the pillars, and–” You hesitate, unable to form the words. “Well, you know what happened.” He’s quiet, too quiet for your liking. “I–I did everything I could, Satoru. The students were fine, but the curse got away.”

“Everything you could?" His voice echoes. "I don’t need excuses. Certainly not from you. You endangered them—all of them. They’re not even your students!” He snapped, his voice rising in a way you’ve never heard before.

You bite back the lump forming in your throat. “I thought you, out of anyone, would understand the circumstances.”

“...Understand?” He utters back, a quiet fury rolling off him in waves. 

 “I made sure that–”

“You failed,” he snaps, voice laced with malice. “Enough. Just stop it. You were reckless and went behind my back, and you let a pathetic grade one get the best of you.”

Your chest tightened, crumbling at the weight of his tone. “Went behind your back? I did no such thing.”

“They could have been hurt because of you!” You visibly flinch, his words carrying more weight than the debris that had buried you—broken bones and all. 

“I’m recommending you be demoted to grade two.” 

What?

“You can’t do that. Satoru, you can’t–”

“I can,” he said coldly. “and I will. You failed, and not only did you fail, you went behind my back and involved my students. Your recklessness caused this,” disdain coats his voice, and he sucks his teeth. “I was gone for two fucking seconds, and you damn near ruined everything. People could have died. My students could have been injured. So stop being a nuisance and just do as you're told from here on out.”

No. 

No, no, no, no. 

You fought for years to get to grade one. A woman with a name of no renown—this society was never in favor of you; the system was set up for you only to fail time and time again. For years, you were held at grade three, then grade two, all because of your name’s sake—all because you were a woman. You didn’t have the luxury of being as good as other sorcerers; you had the burden to be better. 

Even now, at grade one, they continue to undermine you and undervalue you. You knew you didn’t have room to make mistakes, for they would tarnish every bit of good you have done. You thought Satoru understood that. You thought he viewed you as an equal, someone strong enough to stand by him. You thought he valued you, respected you. 

You never thought a mistake, a stupid mistake, would lead to this. 

It’s not fair. It’s not fucking fair. 

“This has nothing to do with my rank. You don’t believe me. You don't trust me. After everything–”

Hearing his scornful laugh, your vision begins to blur. “Don’t make this personal. You fucked up, and now I have to clean up your mess.”

Your ears begin ringing. The pounding in your head becomes too much and threatens to crack your skull open once more.

“But it is, isn’t it?” You whisper. How could it not be personal with how he's been treating you for days? “You haven't been able to look at me in weeks. You speak to me as if I’ve become nothing but a burden to you—a nuisance. What did I do to deserve this?”

He remains silent, the muscles in his jaw ticking as he grits his teeth. Point proven.

Your heart painfully twists with each beat. “Do you even… care about me anymore?” You’re not sure why you say it, why the words slip past your lips, but they do.

He read the report and he hadn't even asked if you were okay. Maybe it was a selfish thought, but it makes your chest ache. You just wanted to go home, crawl in bed and hold him. However, you knew that wasn't in the cards right now.

“Don’t twist this into something it’s not.”

Your voice finally wavers before him, cracking as you press on, desperate for him to understand—desperate to have him by your side as he has been for so many years.

“You’re casting me aside like I’m... worthless."

It was cruelty, a quiet and deafening insult for him to demote you of your status—but more specifically, your place beside him. That hurt runs deep, to the point that feelings of betrayal start seeping into your veins, poisoning you, antagonizing you. Belittling you. It was a sharp dagger you never expected—searing with a hatred that threatened to cripple you. This wasn’t just about your position. He was a man of unchallenged stature, of the highest status and regard, lowering you, demeaning you with his every word, every action. 

When did things go so wrong?

Yet, even now, you question yourself. Were you being dramatic? Were you taking this too personally? Were you being selfish?

Because he was right. Every word he's said so far was right. You failed. You put them in danger.

You stand there, a hollow feeling growing in your chest. The sting of Satoru’s words cut deeper than any blade you’ve faced. His jaw tightened, his gaze hard as steel and cold as ice. “You gave me what I never asked for.”

“Don't you dare!” You snap, finger trembling as you point his way with an accusatory jab. “Don’t you dare pretend this is nothing.  You know me better than anyone. How could I not take this personally? I’ve done nothing but stand by you, love you, trust you–”

“Like I said, I never asked for any of that,” he utters sharply, his carefully composed exterior shattering. “Whatever we were was nothing more than fucking convenience.” 

Suddenly, he stops, freezing at the onslaught of his own lethal words. His next words seemed to die in his throat. The damage was done. 

Exhausted, defeated, numb. His words hit you like a death blow. “... Convenience?” Echoing the very word that came from his lips—a sound you hardly recognize comes from your mouth, a small slip of the anguish tormenting and swelling in your body escapes. 

The necklace around your neck, the very one he had given you, seemed to pulse against your skin, warm and alive. It carried a piece of him, a piece of you, a guiding hand in the absence of light: a thread, an anchor—a way home. 

Suddenly, you hated it. Hated the way it sat so close to your heart, hated the warmth, his energy; you hated that, even now, his words cutting so deep, unraveling the fabric of your being, it comforted you, reaching for you. 

You yanked it off, the chain snapping in two as you held it in your trembling hands. 

He falters, his whole being frozen. “What are you doing?” he asked, quiet and tense, blanketed in uncertainty. 

“I don’t want it,” you say, voice quivering, threatening to fail you at any moment. His energy—the only energy that blended so perfectly with yours—reached for you, and so did his trembling hands. Reflexively, you flinched away, retreating further into the room and further from him. “Don’t,” you shake your head. “Don’t touch me. Not with your hands, not with your energy. Don’t.”

Silent tears stream down your face. You are unable to look at him, and your breathing is shallow and unsteady. You open your hand, letting the necklace drop to the floor. The faint sound of metal hitting wood echoes in the suffocating silence of the room. 

There’s a soft knock on the door. It creaks, slightly opening. “... Y/n sensei?” came an unsure voice.

You stiffen, and suddenly, you can sense them, three nervous students standing outside your door. Too caught up with Satoru, you had entirely missed them. You clear your throat and dry your cheeks with the back of your hand before turning to the door. You walk over, opening the door wide enough to see them. 

“Sorry if we’re interrupting, but we just wanted to know if you still wanted to come out for dinner with us...” 

Fuck. How much did they hear?

You take a breath, and it’s shakier than you anticipated. “Yeah, sure. That sounds nice. Let me grab my jacket, okay.”

Yuji only offers an unsure smile. Norbora has a hard time even looking at you, while Megumis's eyes are solid and unyielding, glaring right past you. His hands were in his pockets, balled into tight fists.

You don’t know what to do other than quickly turning. Within a few ushered strides, you were at your desk, grabbing your coat off your desk chair; you’re careful to avoid Gojo, who manages to plaster on that big fucking grin. 

“Heard you guys were up to no good while I was away.”

“We were fine,” Megumi interjects before Yuji could open his mouth. “More than fine.” 

“Y–yeah, everything ended up being just fine. Y/n-sensei made sure of that,” Nobara awkwardly adds, shifting her weight on her feet. 

“Ah,” Gojo nods. “Well, make sure you get some rest tonight. We’ve got a long day tomorrow! You guys will be training with the second years!” 

You hated how he could act as if everything was alright while you were fighting back tears. It was another jab, a suckerpunch to the gut. 

You just needed to get out of there. 

-

After dinner with the kids, you headed out on your own the following day. You went home, stuffing some clothes in a bag before spending the night at a cheap motel. Before getting with Satoru, you always floated from place to place, never truly settling. Those days, all you carried on you was your backpack. You didn’t have a home or many possessions you could call your own. You just had yourself.  

I guess old habits die hard. 

Megumi was the first to text you: I went to Gojo's house today and didn’t see you. 

All good! I’ve been busy running errands.

Nobara text you sometime after.

Hey Sensei!! Let me know if you’re available today! Let’s go shopping!

You responded rather quickly. Sorry, I’m not around today. Maybe ask Maki? Or maybe Yuji and Megumi would like to tag along.

But guys suck :(

Then, there was Yuji: Hey, Sensei! Let me know if you want ramen! The gang and I got you since you covered for us the other night! I even got coupons! 

You weren’t sure what to say. You always covered for their meals (no exceptions), but you knew they were just trying to be kind. You double-tapped and hearted the message. 

You appreciated them more than anything, but frankly, it was a bit embarrassing. You never meant for them to overhear you and Satrou that night in your office, and you were never one for pity. If it were anyone else, you would have called them out and told them off. However, you wouldn’t dream of doing that to the kids. They were trying to support you in the only way they knew how, but it wasn’t their responsibility to worry about you. 

Surprisingly, Shoko was the next person to contact you. You never stopped by my office. I’m assuming you’re alright?  

Smiling gently, you responded. Yeah, no injuries to report. 

A building collapsed on you.

You scoff, imagining her deadpan expression. Heavenly restriction, remember?

That doesn’t mean you can’t get hurt. 

Your thumbs hover over the keyboard. Yeesh. Just meet me at the bar you like downtown. 

That’s where you are now, Shoko’s favorite bar, tossing back your third shot. ”Take it easy. I don’t feel like dragging you home tonight.”

“Ah. I’m alright, Shoko.”

“You don’t look it.” 

“Neither do you with those bags under your eyes.”

She brings her drink to her lips, mumbling “touché” before taking a swig. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Vivid memories pressed to the front of your mind of the building collapsing. “Satoru is demoting me. After the elders ripped into me, I found him waiting for me in my office.”

“He– what? Jeez,” she took another sip of sake. “Out of everything, I didn’t expect that.” 

“I– we haven’t been doing too good. I’m not sure if there even is an us after last night.”

“Huh. He did seem a little out of it today.”

“Somehow, I kinda doubt that.” There’s a beat of silence, and you swirl the liquid in your cup. 

“If it means anything, he asked me about you. Asked if you were alright.” 

You smile a bit sardonically.  If Satoru really wanted to find you, you knew he could, as he had the means to do so. From here, you were only about five miles away from his estate. It’s not like you were too for his eyes to see.  Suddenly, that thought bothers you, and you find yourself almost subconsciously concealing your cursed energy.  

“Is that why you texted me?”

She gives you a weird look. “Partially. I had my own concerns.” 

“Like what?”

“If I’m being honest with you, you’re not great at RCT. I wanted to check and make sure everything was alright. It eventually catches up with you if you don’t do it correctly. I’ve seen it cause irreparable damage before.”  

“Ah. I guess that makes sense.”

“You should come to my office tomorrow so I can check–”

“I think I’m gonna quit.”

“…what?”

“I mean, that’s what they really want, right?”

“If you do that, they’ll find the easiest excuse to label you as a traitor. A cursed user.”

“Don’t you think I know that? Since day one, they’ve been trying to paint me as a villain.” 

“So don’t give them what they want,” Shoko bites back. She pinches the bridge of her nose with her thumb and index finger. “Listen, I can’t stop you. You are going to do what you want to do at the end of the day, but you don’t need to do this. You made a mistake.”

“I’m just tired,” you tell her truthfully. “For months, I’ve been pretending, going through the motions. I've been miserable. Megumi hasn’t wanted me around much. He’s older now, and he doesn’t need me anymore–”

“Of course he does,” Shoko cuts you off. “He’s still a kid.”

“And I’m not his mother,” you retort bitterly. “Then, there’s Satoru. He’s been so distant.  He used to always be in my corner and make everything better, but I don’t even have that now. Now, all of the jujutsu society thinks I’m a liability. He thinks I’m a liability. Maybe it’s why he’s grown to resent me so much.”

“Please. Just stop talking,” Shoko remarks, overwhelmed with how quickly you were talking. She wasn’t necessarily a fan of conversations like these, but at least she listened. “I’m here if you ever need anyone. And please, don’t let this fester. I would rather not lose another friend.” She takes a large gulp this time, finishing her drink before gesturing for a refill. “Tsk. Satoru is complicated—I get it—but he wouldn’t want you to leave. Neither would Megumi. That kid loves you. Maybe you and Gojo just need a break.”

A break? Ha. That was one way of putting it. However, it already felt much more like a breakup, and its permanence frightened you. Like many other things in your relationship, it was never voiced but certainly felt. 

“Yeah,” you say softly, body buzzing as you down your fourth shot. “Maybe you’re right.”

-

You start walking home after having drinks with Shoko. It was a long walk, and you took your time. You weren’t in a rush to head home to potential chaos. The thought of staying at a hotel crossed your mind, but you had nothing to change into. Frankly, it didn’t matter where you went either. It’s not like you’d be able to sleep any better. 

Though, it’s not like you were going back home to anything good. You were suspended without pay; you couldn’t go near the school grounds or exercise any curses—a stipulation you rolled your eyes at. If they thought just a few measly words would stop you from exercising a curse, they would be more idiotic than you thought. 

Still, maybe it’s good to take some time off. Maybe you should stay at the hotel. If you were lucky, they’d have a washer and dryer. 

Then, your phone starts to ring—a unique ringtone that a white-haired idiot assigned to his contact one day after you let him “borrow” your phone. He even changed his contact photo; years later, you never had the heart to change it. 

Your heart aches when you see the contact photo of him, his goofy smile and gorgeous eyes peeking over his black shades. You answered hesitantly after a few rings. 

“Hello?”

“Heyyy,” you hear, his voice light and cheery yet, lacking its usual spark. “Where are you? I know I missed dinner the other night so I picked up your favorite on my way home!” 

Back to normal? Just like that?

You take a breath, reeling in your emotions. It wasn’t normal, per se, but you could tell he was trying, stepping cautiously over the ice he knew could shatter at any moment. 

“I’m not home, right now.”

“Huuuh?” You can hear the slight whine in his voice, and you can imagine him pouting like a small child. You expect him to carry on with his theatrics, but he hesitates. “When do you think you’ll be home then?”

“Uh, I don’t really know,” you trail off, unable to keep up his faux mirth and bravado. 

 “Well, if you don’t want to sleep next to me tonight, I can just take the guest bedroom!” For a moment, he sounds hopeful.

Honestly, he’s just making your head spin. 

“Honestly, I think it’s best if I stay out of the house for a little while, Gojo.”

There’s a beat of silence before you hear his nervous laughter. “Gojo?” he remarks dejectedly. “Can’t remember the last time you called me that.”

You were unsure what to say; you hadn’t even realized you initially referred to him by his last name until he pointed it out. You want to tell him sorry—for everything, but your tongue tenses in your mouth, and your throat threatens to close up. You hated it when he got like this, and typically, you’d do anything to make him smile again. 

But you’re hurt, and he caused that hurt. 

“I wanted to talk to you about the other day,” he adds quickly, unable to withstand your silence. 

“What’s there to talk about?” You ask softly. “What done is done. I messed up.”

He’s quiet for a moment. “You’re right. It can’t be undone now. But that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Your stomach drops your heart twists and aches. Was he going to officially end things with you? A bitter, more cruel half of you whispers—you weren’t even officially together to begin with. However, none of that even matters; he has too much of you, too many pieces of your frail heart in the palm of his hands. You were irrevocably his, but was he ever yours? 

Just a few weeks ago, you thought you would have an entirely different answer than the one you have now. You're too afraid to face him or the truth. You were guilt-ridden, your pride and dignity torn to shreds. Hearing that he no longer wishes to be with you would be too much. 

Honestly? 

You’re not sure how you’d react. If you’d sob, if you’d remain stoic, or if you’d flip a table and trash every one of your possessions. You’re at wit's end, and the level of fallout threatening to break free from you was immeasurable. 

So, you finalize what you had been contemplating just five minutes ago. “I think I’m going to stay at a hotel, Gojo. I need space. Time to think.” 

“I don’t want us to go to bed mad at each other,” he says lowly, his voice reverberating through the phone. You shiver. “It doesn’t feel right.”

You hated this. You fucking hated this. 

Your chest tightens, and your knees weaken. You wanted to give in. He always had that power over you. He ruled your heart so effortlessly. You yearned for him, your heart singing a million love songs, beckoning him back to you. 

But you couldn’t. You were too mad. You felt cast aside as if you were nothing but an afterthought—after all these years. Yet again, you feel the foundation of your home cracking, and your knees go weak yet again. You take a shuddering breath right before repeating the exact words he threw at you just a few nights prior—words that so effortlessly dismantled your spirit. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

-   

You’ve always had a habit of running. It was easier for you than most. You figured you’d go back to that cheap motel in Tokyo, but you were too restless. Too angry. Feelings of betrayal ran deep, and the guilt nipped away at you until there was only a void. 

Before you could leave, though, you call a number you knew by heart. Stepping onto the train and holding your phone to your ear, it rings. For a moment, you assume he’s asleep. It was getting late, but after the fifth ring, the line clicked. A groggy voice peaks through. 

“Sensei? What’s going on?”

“Megumi,” you breathe out. “Hi. Sorry to wake you.”

“It’s fine.”

“Nozomi 1, departing from Tokyo and heading to Kyoto, will depart shortly. Please be careful of your footing while boarding. Please refrain from using mobile phone inside the train–“

“You’re leaving?” The tiredness in his voice is replaced by something else you can’t quite place. 

“Only for a short while. It’s not like I’ll be working anytime soon,” you chuckled nervously. “But I just wanted to let you know. It didn’t feel right leaving without speaking to you first.” 

“Oh,” is all he can muster up at first. “I– when will you be back?”

“I’m not sure,” you answer him honestly. “A few days, maybe.” 

“Well… Can we visit you? I’d go alone, but I think Yuji and Nobara would kill me if I did.” 

Oh. You hadn’t expected that. You close your eyes, taking a deep breath. “Um, yeah. When I figure out where I’m staying, I’ll let you know.”

He sounds worried. “You don’t know where you’re staying yet?”

You snicker. “Ha, this is, uh, kinda an impromptu thing.” 

“… and you’re sure alright?”

“Yes, yes, I’m alright. I just wanted to tell you.”

You can tell he’s not exactly satisfied, but he isn’t one to stop you. “Well, text me where you’ll be staying in a few hours. You should probably hang up now, though, and figure it out.”

You smile softly to yourself. He always was a kind boy—kinder than he’d ever reveal. “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. Goodnight, Megumi.”

“Night.. I’ll call you later. Be safe.”

When you hang up, you feel a bit better. 

- 

The first night was hard—really hard. Sleeping away from Satoru was incredibly difficult, but so were his sharp words that relentlessly bounced around in your mind.  You found no peace by your window, watching the last of that day's sunlight slipping away behind the horizon, casting long shadows over the dead trees covered in snow.

You could almost feel his presence, like the cast of your shadow on a wall—following you, mirroring your every move. Your phone never rang with his ringtone, your phone never buzzed with a new text. Yet you stared at the shadows for a bit longer, a bit more intensely, waiting for two blue eyes to illuminate the space. They never did. 

Kyoto's stillness seemed to reflect your own, waiting for something to change, waiting for something dead and wilted to bloom once more. 

However, even all the way over in Kyoto, bad luck seems to follow you like the plague. You were walking to a small corner market to grab something to eat when you felt the disturbance in the air—tasted it on your tongue. You hoped that surge of cursed energy wasn’t what you thought it was. You would have loved to be proven wrong, but your instincts were keen like a hound trained to hunt. 

A curse womb opened right above a Kyoto High school. 

You were definitely getting fired after this. 

You knew a cursed object was most likely responsible for this. Considering it happened at a school, you were more than willing to bet a strong cursed object was placed there, most likely intended to ward off any other strong curses that might otherwise appear in the area. You assumed the seal broke, probably after hundreds of years of suppressing the power of the object. You’ve dealt with a case like that before.

You couldn’t have been more wrong. 

Three stupid students—ghost hunting of all things—removed the seal. The decorated white cloth tightly wrapped around a black skull was torn, and its viscous cursed energy soared, tinting the sky black. 

“Oh, you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” you hissed under your breath when you slammed open the classroom door. “This way, c’mon!” You didn’t have to tell them twice. Book it, and you stay by their side for as long as you can. You had to put up your veil, but only after they were far enough. 

You got impatient, however, especially towards the kid who had been recording everything up until now, where you crushed his phone in your hand. 

“Wha– hey! You're gonna pay for that!”

“What the hell is more important? Recording or your fucking lives? Shut up and run!” 

The air suddenly cracks with a tension that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. It’s here. You could feel it—the dark, oppressive presence creeping across the courtyard, lurking. You yourself could see it with your eyes, but you felt it. 

Your senses were better than most. It was partially why you and Yuji got along and trained together so well. You were just like him when you were younger. Granted, he wasn’t born with cursed energy like you were, but your heavenly restrictions were nearly identical. 

You stop running when you reach the edge of the courtyard, but those three kids carry on in a scram. Holding the cursed object in your hands, you raise the skull in the air. It takes a considerable amount of force, but you crush the skull, black dust coating your hand. There’s a hollow screech, and you hope that’s the end of it. 

Of course, your bad luck persists. 

Typically, destroying the cursed object that’s created a cursed womb kills it or at least nullifies it. The exception is when the curse is an S-grade; those wombs are damn near impenetrable. 

Destroying the object seemed only to irritate the curse as it began crawling out of a bloody sac. 

You hold up your fist, index, and pointer finger together, pointing to the sky along with your thumb. A crimson veil pours down, covering the entirety of the school. However, you sense three others within your veil just as you seal off the area. 

“Yo, Y/n sensei!! What the hell are you doing here, loca!” A deep laugh echoes across the courtyard. 

Christ. You knew that voice from anywhere. 

You glance over your shoulder and see a few unexpected faces. Utahime and two other students—Miwa and Todo who looks way happier than he should be, considering the circumstances. 

The newly born curse loomed menacingly overhead, its red eyes gleaming like coals in a dying fire. It was tall, with protruding joints that snapped into place. Its black and sleek hair extended beyond its long, contorted body. Its face was painted white and cracked as if crafted of aged porcelain. Its kimono was white, stained with splashes of red and black goo. You stood firmly in place, fire crackling at your fingertips, your breath steady but sharp in the cold night air. Todo and Miwa joined your side quickly, and Utahime offered you a firm nod from the sidelines. She was entrusting you with her students.  

Quickly, the courtyard became a battlefield, filled with the crackle of burning energy and the hum of raw power. 

The curse lunged, zipping through the air. You were faster, your body twisting and moving with fluid grace. You raised your hand to strike, a jet of flame bursting forward, crackling against the air. The curse shrieked as the fire seared its back, black smoke rising from its melted skin. 

It recovered too quickly for your liking. It rolled through the flames like water through a sieve, reforming and lunging again, its claws gleaming.

Your senses were on fire—every shift in the air, every sound, every movement was magnified. You could hear the heartbeat of the curse, the faintest tremor of its form as it coiled to strike. You could smell the thick, sour scent of decay that clung to it like an ancient smog. And you could feel it—the deep, heavy weight of power pressing down on you, making your muscles tighten and strain against the oncoming attack.

The curse moved to strike again, but you were already there, rolling beneath it, body twisting in a perfect arc, and feet hitting the ground in a spring-loaded motion that sent you leaping upward. Your fist, wreathed in fire, crashed into the creature’s chest.

The explosion of heat sent the curse reeling, but it was only a momentary distraction. It retaliated, slashing the air with a massive, clawed hand. Three energized strikes were headed your way. You reacted with seconds to spare, but Miwa stood directly in the line of fire. You knew her simple domain wouldn’t be summoned fast enough, but she didn’t. It would be a miscalculation that ended her life. 

The claws tore through your side, then whipped down in a sickening arc, ripping clean through your arm. The pain came in an instant—a blinding, searing agony that burned through your body. You didn't even have time to scream.

You staggered back, a cry escaping Miwa’s lips as she looked at the bloody stump where your arm used to be. Blood poured and squirted from the wound, but there was no time for that. 

"Get back!" you shouted to the blue-haired girl, voice raw. She wasn’t nearly ready for this; Utahime gravity overestimated her abilities or underestimated the cursed strength. Regardless, the girl was too distraught to do anything at this moment. 

There’s a rush, and you suddenly realize you are outside the heat of battle. Todo went in, guns blazing, but you could only waste so much time. Todo was strong, way above his current ranking, in your opinion, but it was only a matter of time before that curse cut him down, too. 

Without a second thought, you dropped to your knees. The pain was overwhelming, but you focused, drawing from the reserves settled deep within your core. Your energy surged, and tendrils of fire spiraled around the wound, filling the air with intense heat. 

“Sensei! Are you alri–" Miwa gasped, her feet coming to a haunt as she watched in awe and terror as your arm began to regenerate—pulsing with energy. The flesh knitted itself together, bone and sinew reforming in a frenzy. 

But the process wasn't easy and certainly didn’t come without a price to pay. Your body screamed, the regeneration draining your reserves. You were already weakened, and the battle had just begun. Tsk. 

Todo found his way back over to you two, panting heavily. “How are you doing over there, Sensei?”

"Clap," you say, voice strained. "Now." He looked at you, bug-eyed, but he nodded. He didn't hesitate. 

He brought his hands together in a sharp clap, and everything shifted. “Alright! Let’s dance!”

In an instant, you found yourself on the other side of the curse. You inhaled deeply, heart pounding, immediately launching yourself back into the fight.

The curse roared in confusion, disoriented, but it was too late. You were already in motion. Your feet hit the ground in a fluid motion, and with a vicious snap of your wrist, fire erupted once again. This time, it formed into a massive whip of flame that lashed through the air.

The curse hissed as the whip wrapped around its neck, and you pulled with your whole body. Never losing your grip, muscles straining, you move forward, wrapping the flames over your arm again and again, pulling tighter and tighter until you smelt the pungent odor of the burning flesh around its neck. You wrapped the whip around your arm one last time before turning your body and pulling the whip from over your shoulder, viscously yanking and slamming the curse to the ground and into submission. 

The curse struggled, its body writhing, but it was weakened. Miwa went for the opening, summoning her New Shadow Style: Simple domain. She’s gotten better since the tournament, and you acknowledge with a grave chuckle as she instantly draws her blade, slicing the curse directly across its chest cavity. She cost you an arm, but deep down, you knew she had the conviction to win and succeed. 

Todo doesn’t wait. Another clap. Another shift. You and Todo swapped places with the curse itself this time, and the curse had no time to react. He goes for a punch, cracking the curse with a quick jab, followed by a right hook. He claps again. The moment the curse materialized in front of you, disoriented, you surged forward, throwing everything you had left into one final strike.

It twisted in anguish, its body crumbling to the ground before its remains turned into ash.

Then, there was nothing.

The air grew still. The ground beneath you is scorched but calm. You sucked your teeth, silently berating yourself. 

You hated using your technique. Frankly, you opted not to unless you absolutely needed to, which was the main reason why people hardly knew about it. It wreaked havoc, leaving nothing but indomitable infernos that refused to be quenched like normal flames. They left nothing destruction in their wake—hungry to consume and spread. However, you’ve gotten better at controlling it—you’ll give yourself that. The only thing burned here today was the grass in the courtyard. 

You stood there for a moment, panting, your body trembling with exhaustion as you collapsed to the ground, panting heavily. “Y–you did it!” Miwa cheered. “I had no idea you knew RCT. Thank you for helping me back there.”

“What the– Miwa, we won! Show some conviction!” Todo cut in, flexing his biceps. 

“He’s right,” you managed a weak smile as you worked on catching your breath and easing your fast-beating heart. You collapse to the ground, still gaining your breath. "We did it."

You hear footsteps approaching from behind. Tilting your head, you see Utahime standing directly above you. 

“Oh. Hi ‘hime.” 

She smiles a bit, but her face remains hardened. You straighten up a bit, catching on to her attitude. Something wasn’t right. 

“You guys did a good job. However, another problem has arisen across the city.” 

“Huh? Another one?” Miwa asked, brows tugging inward. She shifts her weight from one hip to the other. “That's like the fifth one today...”

They continue on in their conversation as you drop your veil, sniff the air, and concentrate on your surroundings. A sense of foreboding strikes you under the dark ambiance of the sky. Even after killing that S-grade, things don’t feel right. 

“Thanks for joining us,” Utahime says, drawing back your attention. “I nearly had to call for backup.”

You scoff, glancing up at her from the ground. “Something doesn't feel right, Utahime.” She nods, agreeing with your observation. “When did the reports come flooding in?”

“About an hour ago now.”

“Hm,” you wonder, thinking back to when you first found the cursed womb. “That’s about the same time I first sensed the presence of the cursed womb. They’re most likely connected.”

“That's what I thought. The presence of the cursed womb must have irritated some of the curses in the city, most likely because they were drawn to the energy fluctuations the cursed womb caused. It's good you were here. We're stretched thin right now. If you don’t mind staying, we could use your help. The other students are out on missions across the city, and things just keep getting worse.” 

You smile up at her before pushing yourself back up on your two feet, brushing the dirt from your pants. “Sure, let’s get going–” but as you stand, it feels as if a bolt of lightning strikes you down or as if your chest has been cracked open by a sledgehammer. The agony was too great to even scream as you fell to your knees and crashed back into the ground. 

It was lights out. 

-

It was quiet. Dark—a vast, unending expanse of nothingness that swallowed you whole. An endless drift. It would have almost been peaceful if not for the faint pull at the edges of your awareness, like an anchor trying to tether to something you couldn’t see. 

But then came the first sound. 

You heard voices—muffled cries. Please wake up, said one voice. Please stay with me, came another. 

Pain began to throb somewhere in the background, dull and distant. Disembodied as if it belonged to someone else. 

Don’t you dare leave me. The voice was sharp, demanding, cracking under the weight of fear. You knew that voice and remembered all the sweet things it used to whisper to you. Your heart takes a painful lurch. You can hear its occasional beat in your ears. We need you. I need you. 

Oddly, you were cold.

You were drifting again, further and further. The anchor was slipping. You were sinking, your head hardly above water, when another muffled voice broke through—whimpering, sobbing. Your heart lurches painfully.

Mom, please don’t go.

The words pierce through the nothingness, shattering it all to bits and pieces. The words pull at you, a lifeline you hadn’t known you clung to and needed. Images begin to flash, and suddenly, the voices are no longer just voices. Your heart suddenly burns as though the memory of life itself is fighting its way back into you. 

Your eyelids were heavy, limbs weak, unresponsive—cold. You were so cold, but it wasn’t enough to stop you from crawling out of a black pit that threatened to swallow you whole. There’s a faint sensation of pressure, a hand tightly gripping yours. 

Light begins bleeding into the edges of your awareness. You sucked in a deep breath, lungs empty and greedy. 

Then, your eyes fluttered open.  

You blinked a few times, realizing how hard it was to breathe. Breathing was supposed to be an automatic response, but you had to force it, each breath dragging along the back of your throat like sandpaper. You’re weak and shivering as you use most of your energy to sit up. You were in an empty room, you realized—the sharp smell of sanitizer permeating your nose. 

You push yourself out of bed, knees buckling under your weight. You catch yourself, gathering whatever bits of strength you have left. Your teeth clattered. You were freezing. Shaking, you wrapped the white blanket over your shoulders, gripping it tight before you trudged towards the door.

The hall was mostly empty, all except for a sleeping boy slouched over in a chair beside your door. Your heart squeezes. 

“Megumi,” you whispered his name. You stare at him for a moment, unable to bite back the tears that nip at your dry eyes. 

You wrapped the blanket around him, tucking it gently around him. However, he flinches, jumping straight up in his chair. “S-Sorry,” you tell him quickly with a watery smile. “You looked cold.” 

“You…” the word was a raw and weak whisper. His eyes widened. It took a moment for recognition to settle in, but once it did, he spoke again. “You’re awake.” He stood up from his chair, and you stepped back, offering him space. “You’re awake,” he repeated again. 

Then, you start to wonder just how long you’ve been out of it. Days? Weeks? The thought of months terrifies you, but before you can even go down that loophole, he’s hugging you tightly. “You’re awake,” he says once more, his voice breaking. 

However long it was, he’s right. You’re awake. You’re here, living and breathing. You wrap your arms around his torso, patting and rubbing his back soothingly. “Yup… I’m here. I’m awake.” 

You let him be the one to pull away, letting him take however long he needs. You enjoyed it regardless. You couldn’t remember the last time you hugged him. 

When he pulls away, his eyes are red. He sniffs a bit, backing up and taking the blanket off his shoulders. This time, he’s the one wrapping the fabric around you. He’s frowning a bit as he does. “... you’re the one that’s cold,” he notes quietly. 

“What happened?”

“You don’t remember?” He asks softly, brows furrowing. 

You shook your head. No. Frankly, you didn’t remember much of anything right now. “I was on my way with Yuji and Nobara. We got on the train after you let me know where you were staying.” That’s right. You texted Megumi when you figured out where you’d be staying. You thought they’d come over sometime in the following days. You had no idea they were rushing to see you on the next available train. 

He places his hands awkwardly on your shoulder before gently guiding you to the chair he was sitting in moments ago. As you go to sit, your body seems to forget how to move for a moment, and you lose your balance. He catches you quickly, carefully helping you down into the chair. “When we got to Kyoto, we realized quickly how bad things were over there.   We started helping out at the Kyoto school, dealing with the curses that had been lingering in the area where the cursed womb opened up. Eventually, we ran into Todo and Miwa. They told us what happened.” He grunts, kneeling down so he’s at eye level with you. 

You’re silent for a moment. “How long was I out for?”

“Pushing four days now.” 

The memories strike you like a fright train. “Are you okay? Is everyone alright?” You hadn’t realized you had reached for his cheek. 

He grabs your wrist, thumb gently caressing the back of your hand before pulling your hand away, guiding it back to your lap. He moves the blanket until it's covering you again.  “We’re all fine. Everything’s been dealt with. Yuji and Nobara went down to the cafe to grab some lunch. They’ll be thrilled when they come back.”

You tilt your head. “Why didn’t you go with them?”

He smiles a bit. “I didn’t want to leave you unattended.”

You don’t know what to think. You’re just happy you’re back. Happy because he was happy. You always hated it when he worried about you. You never believed it was his job to do so. However, he stayed by your side and protected you when you couldn’t protect yourself. 

You wiggle your toes and roll your shoulders before standing again. “You shouldn’t be standing–”

“I’m alright, I promise,” you tell him, dismissing his concern. “I just want to walk around, okay?”

He stares at you intently, unsure, but he seems to have no energy to argue with you. “... alright,” he relents. 

He follows you closely as you drag your feet across the floor. You don’t know where you are walking, but you want to stretch your legs and regain a sense of your body. You are weak, but you need to move. 

You ask the question you were too hesitant to ask: “What about Gojo?”

He huffs. “He left a little while ago. Said he’d be back shortly,” he scoffs. “Bullshit if you ask me.”

“Megumi,” you sigh his name with a soft reprimand. 

“He should be here,” he responds disgruntledly. “He should be by your side, and he’s not."

You stay quiet. You’re not exactly sure what to say to him when you agree. Maybe Gojo was done. Whatever this was, whatever relationship you had—maybe he didn’t want you anymore. You look ahead, fighting your own body that threatened to collapse at any moment. You could feel Megumi’s eyes on you, but you didn’t have the heart to look at him right now.

You were afraid you would sob if you did. 

Though you had never walked these halls before, the hospital's layout was quite easy to catch on to. After taking a fourth right turn, you see your room in the distance. A stubborn part of you says to keep going and keep walking, but the exhaustion is catching up to you quickly. If Megumi hadn’t been by your side, cautious eyes scanning you, you might have kept going until you passed out. You realize that the strength you had was nearly depleted. Only trickles of your cursed energy remained, and it would be a long while before you gained it back. 

You hear footsteps behind you. Quick and ushered. Megumi turns before you, his whole frame tensing.  He sucks his teeth and clicks his tongue. “So he finally shows up.” He speaks in a sardonic tone, loud enough for anyone in the hallways to hear.

Satoru comes running from around the corner then, taking deep breaths. Your brows slightly pinch together in confusion. “S–Satoru,” you stutter, walking closer. “When did you get here?”  He looks disheveled. Alarmed. Was he just running? 

It was hard trying to figure out what he was feeling or experiencing when that black eyeband covered his eyes. However, you noticed the bouquet in his hands, a delicate combination of soft and tender hues: pale pink and roses, white peonies, deep pink lilies, and baby’s breath delicately wrapped along sprigs of greenery. 

You place a hand on Megumi’s shoulder. “Why don’t you go eat with the others?”

“But–”

“I’ll be alright,” you explain to him in a soft tone.

He hesitates, torn between staying and leaving.  He was unsure if he should leave you to handle this alone, but after a moment, he backed down, probably realizing he shouldn’t stand between the two of you and what needed to happen. With an irate glance shot at Gojo, he turns, pocketing his hands as he makes his way to the stairs. 

Only when the door shuts do you look at Satoru again. 

He stays unusually quiet, his face unreadable. Frankly, it was rather unsettling. You had no idea what was going through his mind. “I–I’m sorry!” you blurt out the first words that crash to the surface of your mind the moment you see him in his entirety. There was no hope of holding back. After days spent away from him, lost in his absence, and days dancing on the edge of death, the words tumble out of you before you can stop them—unbidden, unstoppable. “For everything. Y–You must have been stressed with work and other things. My fuck up only added to your plate. I get it, ya know? It's selfish of me, even now, to rely on you so much when there’s a whole world that needs you. They are not my students, and I put them in danger.” Quickly, the tears gather in your waterline again, but you blink them away. “I–I’ll be leaving soon. I’ll… I’ll go. I’ll get out of your way, and you won’t have to deal with me bothering you any longer–”

“Can I touch you?” The question comes suddenly, softly, and almost hesitantly. 

You blink a few times, puzzled, but then, you unravel, folding inward under the weight of his voice. Your breath hitches in your throat. Was he still holding onto what you had said that night? Was he haunted by the barriers broken and the others so carelessly assembled? 

He still wanted you? 

You didn’t want him to let you go. Not yet. Not ever.

Like a dam breaking, you surged forward, closing the space between you two. Seconds later, you feel his resolve crumble. He crushes you to his chest, flowers falling to the floor. His arms enveloped you with a force that robbed you of breath, your feet nearly coming off the ground as you both stumble backward. Trembling, he clung to you as if you were an anchor in a world that threatened to tear him apart. There were no words—the unspoken agony and grief were far too overwhelming to put into words—if there even were words for it. 

I’m sorry. I love you. I’m glad you’re okay.  You felt it all with him. You could feel the pounding of his heart against your chest, hear its frantic rhythm match your own.

His hands were shaking, one tangling in your hair, the other wrapping entirely around your frame and squeezing your hip. He buries his face into your neck, and his hot breath is ragged and uneven as he inhales your scent. “I thought–” he swallows, shaking his head. “I didn’t know where you were—for a second time.”

Your cursed energy was low, more depleted than it had ever been. It explains why you were so weak, so frail. When he saw your empty bed, he must’ve panicked. He ran to you, anxiously following the weak traces of your presence. 

Your fingers tangle in his hair, and the familiar silk of his eyeband rubs against your skin. You gently tug at the fabric with the tips of your fingers. His breath hitches, but he doesn't pull away. Instead, he stills as you slip the black band from his face. He lifts his head just enough to rest it against yours. They were that same stunning shade of azure—bright and impossibly vivid, glowing softly as if they carried the remnants of a forgotten star. Captivating, otherworldly, yet achingly human—something he’d often forget from time to time. 

“You promised,” he murmurs, voice broken. “You promised.”  

“What are you talking about?” you ask just as brokenly. 

Suddenly, one of his hands grasps your neck, and you choke on your words. He doesn’t squeeze tight, but the look on his face is enough to make you gasp. “I couldn’t feel you. I couldn’t feel you anymore,” he says achingly. 

Your chest tightens, nails slightly digging into his forearm. You open your mouth to speak, failing more times than succeeding. You wanted to speak, but the words lodged in your mouth. 

“I–I don’t understand.”

“You’re not wearing it anymore,” he murmurs, his nose brushing softly against your cheek. The necklace you always wore—his gift to you, the one that held a part of him, a part of the two of you—was gone. He could feel it in the pit of his stomach, an absence that gnawed at him like hunger, an emptiness he could never satisfy. 

His voice wasn’t angry, far from it. It wasn’t even harsh, but something in it—a quiet desperation—made the air between the two of you quiver. 

“You promised you’d never go where I couldn’t follow,” he whispers again. “Remember?” 

You nod in his hold, tightly pursing your lips together when a few tears escape, dripping from your eyes.  He leans in, pressing his forehead against yours again, gazing deep and unwavering into your eyes. I remember. His grip on your neck loosens until he removes his hand from your throat completely, gentle fingers pushing down your shirt's fabric. His fingers trace your skin, the empty spot where your necklace once laid. 

Then, it suddenly hits you. “Oh.”  

He could feel you as much as you felt him. If you were ever too far from him—out of the range of his sight, out from where his hands could reach for you, that necklace was a beacon, a beckoning, a lighthouse in the storm that guided you home—guided him home. 

You squeeze him tighter. You missed him. You really missed him. 

“How did you find me?” 

He takes a moment to breathe, trying to settle the rapid beat of his heart. “Utahime.” He wheezes out a pained laugh. “She called me panicking once you collapsed. I got there as quickly as I could.”  

You copy his laugh, albeit coughing a bit from the pain blooming in your ribs. You hated to admit it, but the longer you stood, the more your body began to hurt. “I should just heal myself and get this over with.”

“Don’t,” his grip tightens on you again. “you’re using it wrong. There’s damage, lots of it,” he tells you, wiping at the blood that had stained your skin at the corner of your mouth with his thumb. “Any more and–” his eyebrows furrowed deeply, the weight of grief and guilt tugging his features. The corner of his lips tightened. “Shoko operated on you for hours. You nearly died.”

He sees what others cannot, his gaze piercing the surface to something deeper, something raw. He sees the world through an entirely different lens, and right now, the sight of you seems to pain him dearly. 

For a moment, you wonder just how much damage is hidden within you and how much it must weigh on him to see it. “Shoko might have gotten you out of the woods, but she told me you’d need a few more rounds to get you back to normal.”

“That makes sense,” you murmur, allowing your entire body weight to ease into him. He accepts you with open arms. “I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck. Or twenty.”

“I missed it,” he utters, voice thick with regret. “If I had just looked a bit closer, we wouldn’t be in this mess. I fucked up. I could’ve prevented this.” His careful grip on you tightens as if you’d slip away from him once more.  “But,” his tone softens. “You did so well. You took care of that cursed womb before I could even get to the scene.” Even through his pain and wallowing, his heart swells. He was proud of you. 

He bends down, grabbing the flowers he dropped before moving towards you again. “Oh gosh,” you hide your face into his neck as he reaches down, one arm hooking under your legs as he lifts you. You don’t hesitate, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I’m definitely fired, aren’t I?” 

He carefully guides you back into your room. He manages to toss your flowers on the counter by the window. “Don’t worry about any of that. I’ll handle it. ‘Kay?” He places you down on your bed, but he hesitates, not wanting to fully pull away. 

Your eyes flicker, recalling the night of your augment. You knew this was the reason behind his haunted expression. You recognized the torment because you, too, had felt it. “You’re mad,” he observes relatively quickly.

You didn’t want to bring it up. You weren't necessarily mad, not anymore, but even near death couldn’t make you forget the pain he had caused with words he so carelessly struck you down with. 

“What you said… Hurt me, Gojo,” you look down at your hands, feeling selfish for even bringing this up after nearly dying. However, you knew this conversation was inevitable.  “Even if you were right I felt cast aside. Useless. Why didn't you tell me you felt that way before?”

“No… don’t say that. I was being stupid. I over reacted. I know you'd always protect those kids and that's exactly what you did. You’re not weak or a nuisance, or... convenient.” you flinch at the word. “You’re far from that. I need you to know that.”

“...Then what am I?”

“Everything,” he shudders. “You’re everything.” His lips brush over your forehead, your cheeks, and eyelids, each kiss tender and lingering. But then he pauses, his smooth lips hovering just above yours. He’s always been so confident, so self-assured. You’re unsure how to react.

You were sitting on your bed, feet dangling just above the floor. He is leaning over you, one large and warm hand on your thigh, the other cupping your face gently. He was close, but not close enough. Even bent at the waist, his height keeps him just out of your reach unless he leans back down just a bit more…

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down to you, giving him all the assurance you have to offer.

You were hurt, but you still wanted him.

You still loved him. 

His mouth was warm and soft—testing the waters and treading carefully. His grip on your thigh tightens until– 

He lets go. You feel the tension in his body dissipate, and finally, he allows himself to fully enjoy you—taste you. The kiss deepens, and you swear it brought life back into your frail body. He overwhelms you now in the most delicious way possible. Your toes curl, and your tight embrace eases. Your arms go weak, your hands moving to run down his chest, his taut muscles quivering in the wake of your touch.  Every moment was a promise, every brush of skin a new vow. No words were spoken, but you both heard everything that had been held back, everything that had been left unsaid. 

I’m sorry.

I love you. 

I love you.

I love you. 

He smiles against your lips, but you don’t stop or pull away, catching and nipping at his bottom lip. Then, you kiss him again, slotting his top lip between yours. “You really love me, huh? Hehe.”

Oh. You hadn’t realized you said it—whimpered murmurs against his lips. No wonder why he looked all dopey and smiley. 

“You’re not going to make me grovel for forgiveness?” He pecks your lips again. “This seems too easy. I know you’re still mad.”

You chase after his lips. “Of course, I’m still mad,” you mutter against him. “But I thought I would never see you again.” Even as he frowns, you pepper his lips with kisses. “Plus, it's not like you to grovel.”

“I would for. Only for you, of course.”

You giggle, nipping his lip a little harder. “Yeah,” you rolled your eyes. “I’d like to see that.”

Oh no. You’ve made a grave mistake. You knew you messed up again the second the words fell from your lips. There’s a glint in his eyes now. 

“Oh, my beautiful, angelic Queen! I know I have displeased you. Please accept my humble apologies!” You squeak at the suddenness of his actions. He sinks to his knees dramatically, and his palms meet the dirty floor, and so does his forehead. “I am at your mercy! I have failed you greatly, and I wish to make amends.”

You swat him on the back of his head, but it's not nearly enough to hurt him or deter him from whatever this is. “Gojo! Don’t bow like that! Get up!”

“But I can’t!” He whines. “You must forgive me! I will spend eternity on my knees if it means I can regain your favor, my perfect, beautiful, divine Queen. You alone rule this sinners heart!”  He inches forward on his knees, squeezing himself between your legs. His hands find homage on your waist as he nudges his face into your stomach.

Your eyes roll skyward. “Only you could apologize and insult me at the same time, Satoru,” you grumble, looking down at him before running your fingers through white stands. 

Suddenly, he looks up from this position, resting his chin right beneath your ribs, grinning ear to ear. “You called me Satoru~”

You feel your face flush, heat gushing to your cheeks and ears. “Shut up. You’re such an idiot. Can you get up now?”

“Nah,” he says lazily, burying his head into your stomach again. His voice comes out muffled. “I’m trying to make amends with my Queen. Let me, will ya?”

You ease, realizing you won't be able to stop him from doing what he wants. Even if it was a bit theatrical, he was doing his best—you know that because you know him. You let your nails gently graze his scalp as you continued to pat him. He hums, almost purrs, as your other hand finds his shoulder, squeezing him gently before running your fingers under his shirt, caressing his skull and the taut muscles in his back. A beat of silence passes, but you find yourself uncaring.

You had him back in your arms. That’s all that really mattered to you right now.

“Look, I know… I know I messed up,” he begins, voice so low, you nearly miss it. “I’m not great at this—saying the right things. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was stressed. I was fed up with the higher-ups and fed up with my missions, but that’s no excuse. If I could take it all back, I would in a heartbeat. You deserve better than what I was giving you. I’m gonna try to be better… for you. For us.”  His words hang in the air a bit awkwardly, but you can see the sincerity in his eyes and hear it in his voice. It couldn’t be missed. He shifts a bit, moving to kiss your belly. Then, his large hand wrap around yours, guiding your hand closer to his lips. He kisses the back of your knuckles tenderly as if the act of his apology could never be enough.

“You want me to stay?”

He squeezes you tighter. “Of course I do. What would I be without you?”

“Hm. You’d still be Gojo Satoru. Even without me.” 

“I don’t want to imagine a life without you,” he mutters. “Wherever you go, that’s where I’ll follow. I've already told you that…”

“Don’t say that,” you whisper sweetly, patting his head. He nudges his head further into you. “The world will always need you.”

“I will always need you. So please… stop talking like this.” He pinches your side, making you squeak. Finally he looks up, an unimpressed expression gracing his features. “And don’t ever leave the city to get away from me. When you told me you were going to a hotel, I thought you meant in Tokyo.”

You chuckle nervously, looking elsewhere. “Yeah… Sorry about that.” 

“Next time, take a walk or something. I dunno, go touch some grass if you get tired of me.”

A small smile escaped you, followed by a quiet laugh that shook your shoulders. You pat his back three times before kneading him softly. “Okay, humble peasant. You've groveled for long enough. Now lay with me,” you demand him. “I want you to lay with me. I’m so tired.”

“Psh. I’d hardly fit on this bed.”

“Whatever,” you tell him, scooting over. “I’ll make room. Get in, string bean.”

He grins. “Yes, ma’am.”

 It’s a bit awkward at first with his lanky form, but he makes it work. It was a tight fit, and his feet slightly dangled off the bed, but he made no objections. With your back to his chest, he held you against him securely.

“You’re cold,” he observes out loud when you start playing with his fingers. It’s a bitter realization, a deafening one on his part. You know it bothers him, especially as he wraps the blanket around you tighter.

He tries not to let it show. However, he quickly becomes restless and you know he isn’t sated. He begins to move. “Let me go get you another blanket.”

“Nooo. Stay here.”

“Huh? But you’re freezing! And you’re never cold!”

“I’m already warming up!” You intervene with a small giggle, tugging him by his jacket. “Just shut up and lay with me, already.” He hesitates before unbuttoning his black jacket. When he was determined, there wasn’t any stopping a man like him, and right now, he was determined to get you warm.

He lays his jacket over you, spreading the fabric out, smoothing away all the wrinkles, and making sure you're covered. It might as well be a blanket with how long it was over you. Bonus points because it still carried him warmth and smelled like his cologne. A blend of earth and wood with a hint of something darker—smokey and smooth. You always loved the scent. Whenever he walked by, it brushed past you like a gentle breeze over still water, warm and inviting, with subtle notes of leather, musk, and vanilla. 

He grunts a bit before easing into the bed again. “My little icicle- ow,” you shot your elbow back, getting him right in the ribs. “Okay, okay, I’ll stop.” He chuckles, before wrapping his arms over you one more. He brushes your hair from your neck, his breath fanning against your skin. He kisses you there once, twice, three times before saying something familiar. 

“I could sense when you left Tokyo. I didn’t know what to do. Even with my eyes, I couldn’t find you. You were just gone. Don’t ever go where I can’t follow." He kisses your neck. "Please.”

You turn around, searching for his lips. He melts into you once again, squeezing your side sweetly. “I promise,” you murmur. “Wherever you go, that’s where I’ll follow,” you say, voicing back the same promise he made you. He smiles faintly against your lips.  

When you woke up the next morning, your necklace was there. It was back where it belonged, sapphires resting gently over your steady beating heart—carrying Satoru’s silent promise.

Wherever you go, that’s where I follow. 

-

a/n: I honestly don't know how I feel about this but if you made it to the end I hope the nearly 18k was worth reading. If you couldn't tell its based off the song Die With A Smile. Honestly, I think I might have been happier by making this a bit longer and flushing out some of the scenes more, but I was trying new things and I was excited to post my first jjk post :) however its getting late now but if there's any typos or errors I notice later I'll edit as needed.

anyways, if you'd like to see more gojo x sorcerer!reader let me know! also I really hoped you liked the bits I added with Megumi (he's just a smol bean).

likes and reblogs are always appreciated! :p