#the booths are a me touch
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King lizard sketchs I probably won’t finish
#Riley draws#invincible#king lizard#I draw him as a mix of show and comic#I like the long hair and gloves of the comic#and the symmetrical shoulder pads of the show#and the high collar but idk how to draw 🤷♀️#the booths are a me touch
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Sorry for the long post but this has got to be THE estate sale. I fear I simply must attend.
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#there are SO many more pictures but I don't want to make this post too long#estate sales#I want to go but I know there's going to be a line down the block of resellers and I'm just like.#please sir. my hoarding days are over. I would like zoboomafoo and perhaps a record please#and then 87 old women buying everything they can touch to resell at their expensive antique mall booths will shove me in a locker
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this is your reminder that your writing motivation will come back to you so don't even stress about it.
sometimes you get burnt out - it could be from posting a lot in a very short amount of time, or looking at a WIP too much, or real life stress, or you just don't feel like it...
but i promise you it's gonna find you again. <3
#its me. im the one that's stressed out#i haven't touched anything in three weeks bro#THREE WEEKS#unheard of for me#🎤: rae is in the vocal booth
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Having a dedicated tattooist is such a luxury, such a damn thrill. I can just tell the roomies "I went and saw Jay," and they'll know what I've been up to
#bone chatter#anywho im getting a new one in January for my birthday but he touched up my first one and gave it some more definition#he's my boss' partner and i love my boss#one day on lunch she was talking to him and with me in there had me chime in to get his attention and#our consultation was the next week#he's so nice and has so much energy#hes already recommended some bands. its great#anyway my boss told me awhile ago that he likes doing monster tats and that's basically what im up to#drawing horror is what he does in his spare time and what he has at his booth at the local cons#i really got lucky
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Christmas Bazaar SEASON
This is the time of year that makes me want to learn how to crochet because I want to MAKE A GIANT WHALE SHARK and TINY OCTOPUS. This is a need. Also that chicken. It is time to buy earrings and honey and jam and sodas from the sports team and anything but those 3D printed creatures.
Like I get the idea but idk man it feels sterile in comparison to Grandma Becky and her granddaughters trying to sell their clay earrings and bulky-weight knit hats.
It is time to browse for Christmas presents for your friends that might end up squirreled away in your own home. Cookies and specialty popcorn and caramel. Ornaments and dog treats. My neck of the woods hosts them in high schools and churches, where the orchestra/band/choir gets up and plays Christmas carols while browsing.
Depending on the parking and how popular it is, you're going to want to get there very early in the morning, but you're in luck, the Holy Grounds coffee shop is open. Or middle schoolers are desperately trying to make an Italian soda.
It's a fun Saturday, and you get to support local businesses over buying everything last minute off of Amazon and praying that it comes in time. I bought my friend mini whisks to hang in her ears. Phenomenal. There used to be a clockmaker. Once you get to know the people, they come back every year. The same company makes headbands and I buy one every Christmas, and now I have a small collection in my closet.
You say you want a cozy fantasy life, cozy fantasy is found at a Christmas Bazaar. Admission is free. Well, at least it is in my neck of the woods.
#i swear get your squad#carpool#it is not Christmas but it is time to shop#i think my favorite find has been some solid perfume from an apiary#it is honey scented#they stopped making it#i love the children and their spoon rings#hot take but the 3D printers are soulless#touch all the yarns#one lady was making earrings out of fishing lures#i love the teens scrolling i feel your pain#i also love the old ladies knitting behind their stand#it just makes it that much more approachable for me#i always feel weird leaving a booth without buying anything#but also i am poor#knitblr#knitting#crochet#3D printing#maker's market#Christmas#bazaar#craft fair#crafts#thanksgiving#november#december#christmas aesthetic#christmas countdown
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im.so so sorry to eden project "a fucking rainbow" nine inch nails performance but the james gig last night might be my new favourite live music experienfe. im sorry
#i dont know. its at least tied#but. james are The best band live. there i said it#i think the thing is NIN had more moments that touched me very personally and also the rainbow was iconic asf#but tim booth is crazy insane and james live feel like . idk its just friendship and love and trust and hope manifest#nothing like it at all. truly#also tim booth up on the barrier right in front of me singing waltzing along lookung right down at me jesus christ#and they played five-o . they fucking played five-o.#anyway. god#i saw god. tbh#james band#tim booth#also mad to be in an arena full of people and its just so near silent in between songs because we're all just in wonderful awe and respect
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h elp :((
#iijhate this pleaseplease please i wanna go home#theurhe gunnakill me#qere being forcedto sit inreally close groups#I DONT KNOW THESE PEOPLE WHY ARE OUR CHAIRS TOUCHING#crying in class right next to five other fucking people#kms kms kms kms kms#and i accidently fucked up my hand within two minutes because i was scratching it and theyre staring at me andhelp#i wannogo home#help help help#ozys confession booth
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this is stupid
#the primal kink and the delusion im in heat can’t touch me if i’m playing card game#i want it so bad but i know i won’t get it#so yes i’m toying with myself yes i’m wishing i was at least being watched but god#can i get off to the idea that the moment im left alone all i can do is get off about it#not my fault when i’m like this#not even like myself i’m just so. so horribly warm and needy#exhibitionist in me likes this. confessing#god to confess in that booth and be offered salvation through physical devotion#save me for i have sinned and whatnot
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Me (completely delusional): if you choose to interpret susanna’s multiple personality disorder through the lens of w.e.b. Du Bois’ theory of “double-consciousness” with which Black americans move through a racist society and her emergence as a single personality in mid-world as a symbol of her escape from that society rather than the pseudoscientific idea of integration which was popularized by the 1976 tv movie ….
#it would make more sense if the people in midworld weren’t all white and SUPER FUCKING RACIST#i like to think that one of the reasons mike flanagans dark tower series can’t get off the ground i#is bc collaborators find out what susannas Whole Deal is and they are like um… I’m not touching that#i can make it work PLEASE mike i can help. i already soend so much brainpower trying to make the dark tower series less racist#the dark tower#i also turn eddie dean into a lesbian. but thats a separate issue#I’m finally listening to the wind in the keyhole but its rough bc its read by stevie k himself#and not only is he not the best narrator but the way he writes susanna makes me extra mad because I’m like DO YOU HEAR YOURSELF?? i know you#do you’ve got little headphones on in the booth! i know you hear it!!!
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so i’m disgustingly depressed so let’s bring low self esteem reader back
john who plucks out the lonely girl in the corner of the pub, abandoned by all of her mates to get chatted up by the blokes inside. someone has to stay by the table and look after the coats and bags
and he could tell she was an insecure wreck just from looking at her, constantly fidgeting and pretending to busy yourself at the empty table. picking up your phone, scrolling for two seconds and then putting it back down. rinse, repeat, etc
but god, you were gonna be a challenge. good thing he’s always up for one. always happy to take in another lonely stray
she doesn’t make eye contact with him, ever. nor does she ever reach to touch him. in fact, she apologises whenever she accidentally brushes him. looks embarrassed every time she gives some lame response to his smooth line
and the second one of your friends comes back to the table, you move away. as if you’re some warm-up act before the main performance. and that just won’t do one bit
you watch him as he follows your friend to the bar, chatting to her before making his way back with two drinks but instead of cozying up to her the way you expect him to, he slides the drink in front of you and makes himself comfortable in the tight booth. leaving you trapped between his musky scent and peeling wallpaper decorating the wall,
“there y’go, pretty. carry on tellin’ me about yourself…”
and for once, you actually hold his gaze for a few seconds, stunned. before inevitably shrinking back into yourself, slowly reaching for the glass like he might be pulling some kind of joke on you
he knows he’s got his work cut out for him with you, but he also knows that if he digs a little deeper, he’ll hit diamond
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I work at a movie theater.
And personally? To be in the tickets booth, and see young girls, teenagers, adult women, coming in to see Barbie,
the most highlighter pink outfits, some of them coming in with the dolls they’re dressed as, laughing to each other, cheering for each other,
to see the men they’re coming to see it with, dressed in pink, cheering them on, taking their pictures with smiles and cheers in the lobby at the photo op
touches something so deep in me
I can’t say any nuances of the movie that haven’t already been said, but like, fuck man, love is so deep and so kind and to be able to see glimpses of it from behind my little ticket desk makes me a little less nihilistic.
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Ghost Gets No Bitches Part 2:
second part to THIS
Word count 1400
Content warning: suggestive, alcohol
When ghost finally texted you the message was something along the lines of:
Hello. This is the man from (insert specific grocery store name followed by the exact address of said grocery store).
You: Do I get to know your name or am I just supposed to call you Man From Grocery Store?
Ghost: Simon
Wow ok not a talker but we can work through that. Simon knew he should take you to a proper dinner but you made him so anxious he needed somewhere safe. Comfortable. Ah yes the closest bar to his base that he goes to almost daily. When you agreed to the date the panic really set in. He’s gonna be alone with you again (he ran to Price to ask for help on what to do. “You can’t wear the fucking mask” “but why?”)
The second Ghost got out of his car he noticed Soap had followed him to the bar (how could he not, Ghost had been sweating all day about meeting his lil lass again) “you walk in that bar and I’ll put a bullet in you, Mohawk”
“Aye come on. Jus wanna see a little more of the pretty bird that’s got ya all nervous”
Soap knew he was bluffing about shooting him until Ghost pulled up his shirt enough to show his gun and the silencer attached to it. Yup ok he really would shoot him. Suddenly Soap is back in his car.
And then there you were, picture of perfection walking towards him. Big smile and small dress oh he was fucked. He opened the door for you and you let out a “good boy” as you walked through, an audible gulp came from him. Making your way to the bar to order, you told the bartender your drink, turning to ask Simon what he wanted only to find him standing 4 feet from you, scared to get too close. “Come here.” A command. One giant step and he was by your side. You moved closer until your shoulder was touching him. Control your breathing Ghost. “What do you want big boy?” You looked up at him and he should be embarrassed that you just called him that in front of his favorite bartender but he is definitely not. He said the beer he wanted and you added “two please. He’s nervous” the bartender was trying not to laugh.
“Tab Open or closed?” The bartender asked to which you quickly said open and began sliding your card over.
“No.” Simon’s voice was deep and gravely and his sudden outburst caught you off guard. He may let you walk all over him but there was no way he, a gentleman would let you pay.
You turned to him, eyebrows raised, “did you just tell me no?” Voice laced with genuine surprise and his eyes got wide, fuck was he in trouble? He nodded too afraid of how to properly respond but he continued to hand his card over and return yours to you.
“You only get to tell me that once and that was it.” You scolded him as the barkeep slid the drinks over to you. You grabbed his two beers, one in each hand to hand to your date. He nodded again in response but did not miss the way your eyes were glued to his giant hands when he easily held the two bottles in one hand.
Making your way over to a booth to sit, someone bumped into you, slightly spilling your drink down your hand. The man kept walking until a large (big sexy) hand grabbed his shoulder. Terrified apologies stumbled from his lips at the sight of Simon. But your hand quickly found its way onto Simon’s chest.
“It’s not a big deal. Right Simon?” He looked down at you just in time to see you put your fingers in your mouth sucking the spilled drink from them. Christ’s sake woman. Your hand on his chest could feel his racing heart beat.
“Not a big deal mate.” He let go of (pushed) the man as he watched you finish the walk to the table you wanted. He followed but when he got to the table he just stood there so awkwardly.
“Simon, sit down. This is a date you know.” He’s sat. You decided that if he wasn’t going to talk then you wouldn’t either. You just sat there watching this giant muscle man fidget in his seat, emotional support beer being held so tightly in front of him. Your eyes taking in all of his features, pretty blue eyes and chiseled facial features. After however many minutes of silence (Simon squirming) you decided it was time for billiards. This is a bar after all.
“Let’s go play” your head nodding to the empty pool table. The sudden sound of your voice made him jump. For goodness sakes man chill. He downed his second beer as he stood beginning to relax slightly. The bar was starting to get crowded so you reached for his hand before making your way to the table, pulling him behind you. You’re touching him. Fuck your hands are so soft, small compared to his. How would they look holding his… A small and disappointed “oh” came from your lips as you neared the table. A group of men had gotten to it first but with a quick clear of his throat and deadly stare from Simon they gently handed you the cue ball. You turned to face him and god you were so close to him. He thought you holding his hand was bad? Now your chest is touching his.
“Ready to lose?” You questioned batting your lashes at him, watching his pupils dilate.
“I was gonna ask you the same.” You bit your lip at his response, excited to finally get somewhere with this man. There was a stare down for a few moments before you turned to begin the game.
Were you bad at pool? No. Were you good? Also no. But Simon? Never missed a shot. No no this won’t do. Quickly realizing that you are losing (you only got one turn) you changed the game. Now you’re just standing at the edge of the table, looking pretty, moving the balls around with your hands, demanding trick shots.
“Orange here to here then this pocket.” Hands pointing around before being placed palms down on the table, cleavage exposed and Simon can’t breathe. He does it and you praise him with another “good boy.” Two more planned shots and now you’re curling your finger, beckoning him closer.
“8 ball. Corner pocket.” Simon begins to bend to line up his shot when you move so you are sandwiched between him and the table. Breathe Simon breathe. “Go on handsome.” Fuck ok he can do this. His large body easily envelopes yours, slowly bending at the waist and you are pushed down slightly, his chest pressed against your back. Your ass pressed exactly where you want it. Simon’s arms wrap around you to place his hand under the stick to steady it. You wiggled your ass back against his crotch and you could hear him stifle a groan. You can tell he’s trying to focus on the task at hand, but let's make it more fun. You turn your head until your lips are brushing against his jaw, sliding their way up to his ear and the whine that escapes this man at the contact. His hands glued to where they were placed on the table, too scared to move them where he actually wanted them.
“If you make this, you’ll get a reward.” You pressed your body into him more, feeling what was starting to form in his pants and you could feel the vibrations in his chest from a suppressed growl. “But.” you paused for a moment and he thought he was going to break the pool stick from holding on so hard. “But if you miss, your friend from the parking lot is allowed to come play too next time. So whats it gonna be?” You removed your lips from his ear, signalling him to take the shot. A breathy and accidental “fuck me” came from him as he lined up his shot. There was no way he was going to miss this, but when you added “thats the plan” after his last comment he missed the ball all together, pool cue scratching the green fabric on the table. He stood quickly cursing every god there ever was as you spun in his arms now face to face. Your arms reached up to wrap themselves around his neck. “What was his name again?”
Part 2.5 Part 3
#simon ghost riley#ghost cod#simon riley x reader#simon ghost x reader#cod mw2#cod x reader#john soap mactavish#cod fic#simon riley imagine#fic#sub simon riley#task force 141#tf 141#tf 141 x reader#simon riley hcs#ghost#simon riley#ghost gets no bitches
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❝ IF I WAS A RICH GIRL . . ! ❞
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ᡴꪫ sum. not only do you get your panties back but you get a handsome, suave sugar daddy as a gift. gojo takes you out on a date but the lavish, exquisite food isn’t what he’s exactly hungry for. hint: it’s between your legs. oh, and you.
wc. 6.6k
warnings. fem! reader, sugar daddy!gojo au, age gap (early twenties/early thirties), semi public themes, toy usage, gojo is a nasty menace, cunnilıngus, implied multiple ōrgasms, praise kink, mentions of brēeding, impact play, size kink, degradation, edging, manhandling.
➤ sd!gojo masterlist
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“s- ssssatoru,” you hiss. clenching onto your fork, you squeeze your thighs together underneath a velvet red table. it was as if every area of your nerves could barely hold themselves together as they’re continuously being interrupted. interrupted by the sheer vibrations juddering your legs apart. he’s sitting beside you, humming to himself as his eyes skim through the pricey menu. acting as if he doesn’t hear your sweet faint whines, he heard them alright. loud and clear. it’s been a while—ever since that day, you’d have been a fool to not call him from the business card he gave you. accepting his precious offer to be a sugar baby. his sugar baby. and now, you were on a date with him. not just any date though, a date where he brings along a cute new bluetooth vibrator he bought for you. it’s happy new home was located right between your pretty thighs. the setting was powered on level four and you were so so close.
this was bad . . this was really really bad, the immense pressure steadily continues to arise. the bzzzing of the toy rings through your ears to where it gets stuck in your head. everything felt slow, real real slow. the entire five-star restaurant alone was quite loud. blaring with a multitude of conversations from talkative fellow guests. the vibrator makes you whine out a tiny, shrilling squeak, and you squeeze onto his pants leg. “you’re smiling. i know you can hear m- me.”
“huhhh, oh no sweet thing. ‘s just my natural face,” and he’s got a coy grin. he was definitely smiling. “let’s try one more level,” and your legs were just about to give out the moment the buzzing intensifies. so embarrassing, you keep trying to look around, in utter hopes that no one was looking your way. it felt so good, orgasmic even. you’re on your last final hinges of pleasure before he tugs against your ripped fishnets. “hold it, girl,” he directs, planting a kiss against your neck. “don’t finish, at least wait until our food comes. let’s try usin' those manners tonight, yeahh?”
“satoru jus’ let me cum,” you whine, grabbing his wrist. you feel against his g-shock. the cold, metal material making your cute fingertips shiver a bit.
out of amusement— he hums, watching as you try to drag his hand down between your heated thighs.
seeing how desperate you were for more of his beloved touch was adorable. your expanding heat only grows and that’s when you then slouch back against the fat padded restaurant booth. the fabric of your panties felt sticky—almost adhesive like with how it sticks against your mess between your lacey undergarments. just voluntarily glued against your plushed thighs. the toy’s been wavering against your pretty clit for about a good ten minutes. the waiter took you and gojo’s order quite a while ago since then—and those long ten minutes since then felt like long ten hours. “fuck, ‘toru. can’t hold it, pleasepleaseplease.”
“hmmmm,” gojo kneads a thumb against your wrist. his touch alone made you throb more. his touch, you just wanted more of it each time. it was addictive, like a drug, like candy even.
you’re so close to your release that it’s right there. at the very tip of your tongue, you could almost taste it. saliva pours into your mouth as the the inevitable pressure gradually emerges.
as people in the restaurant continue to walk by, you have to try to not be so obvious. you were failing miserably though—anyone could peer a look at you and spot the lewd expressions stretched across your face.
by now, you weren’t really trying to hide it. you were about to make a mess at a public restaurant, and maybe the simple thought of that alone made you pulse with no shame. “aw, y’r squeezin’ my wrist so tight, baby. really wanna make a mess, do ya?” and he leans right up against your neck, giving you a soft kiss. hot breath collides against your collarbone as he gives you a kiss, one simple kiss and you’re just so feral. not a single thought embedded into your mind except you were about to make the biggest nest imaginable. right underneath this table— all thanks to the stupid toy, and stupid satoru gojo, your beloved new sugar daddy. you’re nodding, tiny babbles of whimpers spewing out from your lips before he strums his fingertips against the rotating vibrator. gojo feels against the outer part of it sticking out of you, and he just wants to pull it out, making you cum himself with his tongue. he’s dirty but at least he has some kind of decorum. kind of. “so fuckin’ hot. gettin’ off at a five star restaurant like this, was supposed to be a special night but you just had to be a messy girl today, huh.”
“y- yes, ‘toru, please,” and your breathing hitches the second his frigid cold lips make contact against your skin yet again. if it was anything that could make you so weak, it was gojo’s obscene, sloppy kisses. you craved them like you craved air. “hafta cum, let me finish please. wan’ it so bad.”
with a little teasing sigh he murmurs, “okay fine,” and once he gives you the go ahead, you finally let go. the deafening music reverberating throughout the diner harmonizes over your orgasm— it was a tiny squeal but still. it silenced your own release, but you were still quite loud. you’re slump backward, feeling him turn off the toy from his phone with a simple button and he chuckles. “baby you’re so fuckin’ dramatic,” and he drags a thumb against your now soaked entrance. you’re panting, tummy heaving and heaving as your quaking legs were all sprawled open underneath the table. pried open just for him. “such a wet girl. kinda just wanna get a little taste. my own appetizer before the mea—”
“chilled alaskan king crab legs, two complementary cups of ice and herb roasted chicken—?” a waiter cuts off gojo as he’s flirting with you. with a whip of a head turn, he glances up, a bit annoyed at being interrupted. the waiter with the ordered food in hand stares at the two of you, a short petite male with a eye twitching expression. he gulped, seeing the gojo satoru and decided not to question just why his hand was literally between your thighs. “um, sorry for the delay. here you go.”
“thank you,” gojo cheeses a fake smile—yet as he watches intently as the waiter hands you both the steaming hot plates of lavish cuisine. he pops the same finger that was toying with you right into his mouth. you gaze at gojo, so filthy..
again, no shame at all—a shameless man at best. briefly, he sucks against his finger, savoring the after honeyed taste before smirking. it was as if he preferred your taste rather than the food sitting right in front of him. curling his tongue against his finger, he gives the server a coy nod. “keep the change, man.”
the waiter was stunned to see gojo reaching in his suit, grabbing out a whopping tip amount of four hundred dollars in cash—he stammers, accepting it with a grateful sheepish smile. “ah, t- thank you. please do come again.”
as the server leaves, you’re left with your own body still panting from your most recent teeth shattering release. the food was sizzling, piping hot. with hooded, partly open eyes, you dig your nails into his slacks. “you’re s- so nasty, ‘toru,” and picturing the image of him licking his finger like that . . just a few seconds ago as if it was nothing, you’d lie a bit if you said it didn’t turn you on. at least a little bit anyway. he snickers, planting a kiss against your jawline as you struggle to catch your incoming irregular breaths. “my panties are all soaked now.”
“and. let’s be real—when are you not wet, princess,” he teases, grabbing a napkin to wipe the remnants of drool seeping from the outer corners of your mouth.
gojo’s eyes were so pretty, the more you stare into his elegant, ethereal pupils— the more you wanted him. wanted more of him. swallowing, he grabs the front of your hand before kissing it. the moment his lips press against your hand, you feel your tummy swarm up with butterflies. “and don’t pout. ‘m gonna take them right off ya anyways, c’mon. let’s finish eating. got a surprise for ya back at home.”
at gojo’s mansion, secluded from other buildings to disturb his peace—his surprise for you was nothing more than his tongue.
“i need you so bad, you don’t fuckin’ understand,” he groans, and he’s making sure to take his time with you. his sweet precious time,
you’re in the master bedroom— his bedroom where it was known for having your sweet moans reverberating and bouncing off the walls. as you’re laid on your back, you let off a soft whine once he’s trailing his tongue everywhere down your body. he starts slow, making his way back up to kiss you. strands of delicate snowy strands tickle against your forehead as his lips harshly crash onto yours. you moan, sliding your tongue against his and tasting the leftover taste of what tasted like sweet, sweet tequila. he was still in his suit and tie and you wanted nothing more than to have it off. your hands roam to yank on his tie and he gradually grinds his body against you. “yeah, that’s right. ouch my body, girl. all yours.”
he’s speaking between lewd wet kisses. his voice was deep—his rhythm against your body was so passionate that it was almost carnal. you taste a bit of mint on his tongue also, separate tongues continue to dance and fight against each other all the while he’s left you speechless.
breathless even,
every few seconds he’d have to come up for air, nibbling against your bottom lip coltishly. “don’t be shy,” he whispers, watching as you hesitate to feel against his body. he finds that characteristic about you cute, how you were still shy yet slowly warming up to him. “touch me,” he repeats, his voice a bit more raspy— a bit more needy. so you do, raising your hand and you slip it underneath his dress shirt. as the cottony piece of clothing glides against your skin, he’s still compressing his lips against yours before your fingers start to roam further . . .
as they wander down the older man’s body, you feel his exact build. he was absolutely ripped, even in his early thirties—he could have easily been mistaken as a frat boy. it was no surprise, gojo practically spent his life in the gym. his personal gym anyway. you couldn’t help but take a peak at his buff biceps—only imagining what’d it be like for him to put you in a teasing chokehold.
those arms, that jacked build . .
the more you ponder about him manhandling you, the more you’re so close to making yourself more drenched. as everything progresses, you moan again. his sensual grinding against you gets more quicker and quicker over time. his hardened bulging boner rubs off on you and an arm of yours slings around his broad neck. “mhm,” he groans, feeling the soft centers of your fingertips stroke its way down toward his forbidden happy trail.
it trails and trails,
so pretty, just a beloved white trail of curled hair running down just above the horizontal border of the rest of his pubic hair. it starts near his navel and slides its way further down. a vertical strip of hair that you could never get your hands off of. as you’re still kissing him deeply, teeth gnashing amongst each other before gojo ultimately ulls away.
“fuck, ‘m gonna cum jus’ from kissing you,” he lets off a throaty laugh, trying to hide his flustered state. you had him so weak. so weak but he’d never admit that. gojo brings his swollen, dripping lips towards your neck, then your collarbone, all until he goes just a bit lower. “look at this body,” he coos, pausing to take in your beauty right underneath him. “yeah, ‘m gonna take such good care of you, sweets. jus’ lie back ‘n let me love you.”
his words were as smooth as silk— the deep, resonating pitch in it bellows all around the thin walls of his bedroom. the seductively sly baritone of his voice alone makes you pulse. if it was anything gojo had, he had a way with his fucking words. gojo purses his lips, coating your tummy with a plethora of kisses. you struggle to stay still, your expensive dress he bought you a few days ago for this exact occasion now all wrinkled and creases.
but truthfully,
he didn’t care—besides, he’d always buy you another one. his favorite motto.
as you’re lounged back, he makes you spread your legs. “mwah,” he purrs against your skin, lolling out his tongue just a bit to create a slime wet trail. it goes all the way down until he reaches near your cute navel . . then up to your half ripped panties. they weren’t ripped before the date, but they certainly were now. “you’re so sensitive today. barely did anythin' ‘n you’re squirmin’ from my touch.”
“s- satoru, please,” you whine out a pathetic breath. a hand then grips onto his tangled strands like velcro. tightly, you didn’t let go— at least not yet anyway. his hair was were messy, and that simple detail alone made him ten times more attractive. gojo’s hair as usual was a bit slicked back but still unkempt, especially now due to your gluing grip. fingers of yours massage its way through his scalp and he almost moans. with a pouty expression, you continue to speak. “you’ve been edging me all day. ‘s no fair.”
“thaaaat’s kind of rude,” he chaffs with his white brows contorting into a furrow. “was the toy not enough?” and with a shushed tone, he whistles against your clit— giving it a soft kiss, a thumb peeling down the center. “oh, right.. probably wasn’t, forgot how greedy this pussy is. ‘s my bad.”
your back arches, and you moan once he prods two long fingers inside of you—your warmth envelops around his digits easily before he pulls it out to give it a good three second whiff. “sweet,” gojo slyly says, licking against his fingers. “would have rather ate this instead,” and you moan, watching how his mouth was practically watering from your alluring taste. such a nasty man, the nastiest. gojo leans up to you, tapping against your chin. “ah ah, open that mouth baby, before i eat. don’t wanna hog, wanna make sure ya get a taste too.”
whimpering, you part your lips— sticking out your tongue before his lengthy slender fingers tug its way into your mouth.
immediately, you suck around them, lashes of yours fluttering from your blissful arousal. “m-mhm,” you slip out an inaudible gasp, feeling his free hand grab against your twitching cunt. gojo’s staring at you with the most smug expression before he pulls his digits out, sneaking a wet kiss right on your mouth. as you taste yourself, a messy cobweb string of spit departs from each mouth before he lies you back down. “fuck, hurry ‘toru.”
“now . . baby, don’t rush me,” he teases, and with your back laid against the squishy cushioned mattress, he finally digs in. your knees poke and extend outward and a sweet whine rips out rawly out of your throat. it’s almost guttural, he’s yanking out noises from you that you didn’t even know you could even produce.
once gojo starts— it’s never ending.
he could eat you out for hours, despite how his jaw would tense and tighten. you’re moaning at the way he starts off with sloppy kisses before just straight up digging in. nose deep within seconds. it swipes against your folds in various circular motions. the rotation of his tongue was brutal— you’re whimpering, maintaining a rough grip against his hair and he chuckles. sucking deeply against your puffy slit. you throb in his mouth, and you’re already squelching. gojo groans, reaching a hand inside of his executive pants to stroke himself off.
your pleasure was his pleasure after all. he wanted to always make that clear.
gojo wasn’t lying about pointing out how hard you made him. a thumb of his runs down the vein that remains on his dick. with his eyes closed, he allows his tongue to wander through every part of your pussy. he knew just where to go. he knew the exact spots to make you scream and whine out for more.
with ease, he locates every orifice— he doesn’t miss anywhere, more so because he can’t afford to.
gojo loves more than anything to make out with your cunt. his most favorite thing to do was to french kiss against it.
after each obscene mwah after mwah, he even allows his own saliva to help him out— despite how you were already a practical dripping faucet. careless, saturated kisses of his had you throbbing time and time again in his mouth. his head vigorously shakes back and forth, side to side as you’re practically shoving him forward. “eh—easy on the hair, pretty,” he jibes, concisely parting his lips away. gojo stares at his thumb that’s trying to insert its way in. he grows quiet, watching the scene in front of him. within long extended seconds, your pussy’s swallowing the single digit whole and you swear under your breath at how lengthy his fingers were . . even a simple thumb. gojo’s thumb stretched you out so good that you couldn’t even comprehend the feeling in words. not like you could comprehend anything anyway, you were already stupid. all from his tongue, his touch, everything. “god, such a wet girl. the nerve to be walkin’ around this soaked, ‘n she’s quite the talker today too..”
as he’s rambling with a thumb entering in and out of your cunt, he takes a moment to spit on it. it’s shimmery, he blows against it before letting off a flirty whistle. “yeah she fuckin’ is,” he praises your folds. “oooh, bet she’s gonna give me a nice squirt or two later,” and you moan once he brings his chatty lips back towards it. your pool of heat continues to grow before he lays his tongue flat. he was always a man to make a bit of a mess. your heartbeat starts to get so rapid that you heard it’s pulse right through your ears. the firm grip you have on his hair was tight. tangled crumped up fingers combing right through his hair— it makes him a bit hard. the feeling of you dragging him back and forth against his face. you could barely keep your legs open but you didn’t want him to stop. he’s practically slobbering over your pussy before he breaks away, giving you a smug grin. “like when i make out with her more than you?”
“f-fuck, ‘toru,” was all you could mutter out in shaky lips. as he’s relishing his meal between your thighs, gojo spanks your cunt twice. you’re so soaked that a few sloshing droplets hit against his skin. “ngh, you’re teasin’ me. ‘m gonna cum if you k-keep doin’ that.”
sucking passionately against your clit, his tongue flicks against the sensitive nub. that spots has you short circuiting. “nuh uh, good girls cum when they deserve it,” and the tempo of his suckling gets quicker by the mile. you’re about to break, unceremoniously grinding your hips against his mouth so much to where he chortles. as he laughs, hot breath of his fans against your pussy and it only makes you throb ten times more.
straight convulsions,
you’re feeling so many sensations languidly twitch against your body all at once that you could barely keep up. everything’s fuzzy so you felt like you were on cloud eight. cloud nine or whatever people call it— honestly, your mind was far too fried to even figure it out. gojo grunts, snapping you back to reality with a soft swat against your folds. “be honest with me, sweets,” gojo slicks his tongue out of your clingy walls, peppering a playful kiss against your soddened, moist folds. “do ya deserve to cum? do ya deserve to be my messy baby? tell me the truth.”
with a cute, exasperated sigh, you sob out a needy cry. “y- yesss, i’ve been good, ‘toru. been good all day,” and his sucking against your clit grows within speed. the very cartilage of his nose against his nose prods against your entrance and you feel like you’re floating. the tip of his nose was all soaked, all because of your cunt continuously scooting up against it. as he’s propped right up between your legs, a hand of his squeezes down on your right thigh before giving it a little bite. your legs, one of his favorite things to gently press his teeth into. as well as your neck, but your legs—they were just a force to be reckoned with. you were a force to be reckoned with. “satoruuuu.”
“sweetheaaaaart,” he mocks your cute dragging of your words, slurping every lewd amount of your primal arousal. you’re so cute, barely bring able to stay still so much to where he’s got to hold you in place. “but you were bein’ a bit of a brat earlier,” he hoarsely utters, rubbing his hard on against the edge of the bed. “teasin’ me, even tried ‘ta stroke me off while we were in the diner,” and with coy eyes, he gives you a cunning smirk. as you pout, he simpers. “aww yeahhh, remember that dontcha?”
continuing to rut your sloppy cunt against his face, he playfully nibbles against your clit — you whine, biting down on your lip before spreading a plump thumb against your folds like jelly.
“dunno if she should be messy just yet,” and he’s such a tease. as he speaks, his eyes avert towards your pussy, clearly wanting you to understand he was talking to her and not you. at least not right now. you could hear the playfulness underneath his tone. your heart’s racing— it’s so intense, your legs were quavering within his hold. struggling to maintain decent breaths, you end up finishing anyway. it hits you so abruptly that it’s rude, all kinds of nerves surge through you and your mouth pries itself open. the only thing escaping out of your sweet dry throat was a desperate, wailing whimper. gojo pauses, bringing a final kiss against your pussy before smearing a thumb against his lips. “the fuck.”
“s- sorry,” you pant, but truth be told—you weren’t. in fact, if he squinted just enough, he could see the little smile trying to stretch itself against your guilty, sheeny lips. you’d only last a few minutes with his tongue, featuring his long fingers, but still.
first and foremost, your powerful orgasm had you feral, a cooling air suddenly sets down against your skin as your legs tremble before your pussy gets slapped with a mean smack. one turns into two, then three, then four . .
“f- fuuuck, ‘toru,” you gasp, hearing the wet swats against your cunt. you’re still sensitive, your swollen folds all dampened with nothing but your slick, soaking arousal. so wet, so sloppily wet and only wet just for him.
“we talked ‘bout this, sweets,” gojo grumbles, giving your folds an almost disappointed kiss. “but ‘s like ya never listen, guess y’r pussy needs more training,” and as you’re trying to collect as much gasps of air as you can through your full lungs, he squeezes your cunt with his entire wrist. unzipping his slacks, he leans into you before pulling you into a kiss. the entire spacey room was dim lit, velvety shaded rose petals scattered everywhere onto the crinkled sheets. gojo knew how to set the mood. as he shoves a tongue down your throat, still getting a good grip of your cunt with his palm, he then makes you flop right onto your back. “mch,” he hastily pulls away, a tongue savoring your sweetened lip gloss that smothers itself against your twitching mouth. “can’t look at ya right now. face that way, yeah. face down ‘n ass up. jus’ like i taught ya, pretty.”
with unsteady hands sinking into the bed, you do as he says. a soft whine ferociously snatches out of you once a big hand of his caresses your left ass cheek. his touch, you were always so weak for it. ever since you first met the man, your first encounter which was about approximately almost two weeks ago. you started to get deeply attached, well, at least your body was . .
as you arch forward, you feel a soft scratchy material plop against your back. gojo doesn’t waste time, tugging down his own brand of boxers with his last name stripped in bold letters near the stretchy hem. grunting, he springs his aroused dick out, aligning himself against your achy, drooling entrance. the feeling of material was just gojo throwing a few wads of cash near your back. “bratty but gorgeous,” he scoffs, feeling you wriggle your ass against him. oh, you were gonna be the death of him. the fifty dollar bills trail and slide down your spine— the view of it was so sexy, he wanted to savor this moment. you’re his favorite girl, he already knew it. a hand of his grips near your hip. “needy ‘lil thing. just gotta move that ass against me,” and as he’s speaking, he gifts your ass with another impolite spank. “ugh, pussy’s to die for.”
“s- satoru, fuck me,” your plea came out of your mouth in such a small tone. it was cute, your knees that dug into the mattress remain to grow shaky and wobbly before nearly giving out. the size difference amused him.
the delicious size of his fat cock was pure bliss. you don’t think you could ever get used to it. every time with him always felt like the first. with two clingy big hands glued to your waist, he’s easing his way in slowly. his fat tip ploddingly opens up the outer sloppy walls of your entrance and you’re so slick for him that you’re already coating gojo from the very base down. growing a bit frustrated that it seems like he’s taking forever, you creep a hand down between your thighs to touch yourself but he only spanks your wrist away.
“girl—please, let’s not touch my pussy today,” he warns slyly, catching your hand with quick reflexes.
you moan, feeling his girth expand throughout your walls. he’s just so fucking big, your mouth stretches itself open and a tiny squeak escapes. “so wet, mhm, listen to how sloppy you get for me,” and you end up falling face forward into the bed. with your ass still up in the air, he’s easily emitting such filthy moans from your throat. your pussy doesn’t take long to constrict around his hefty length. gojo always fits nice and snug inside, you wholeheartedly take him inside, drooling from how your cunt grips around him in such a secure way. just one thrust, a single thrust from gojo and you were already limp. “thereee we go, take it, pretty.”
“i-i’m gonna cum,” you whine, speaking in an almost breathy way. fat callused fingertips of his run down your spine, sending you various shivers before he spanks your bass again. the dollar bills that lay against your back start to fall right off of you from the quick paced movements. “s- sirrrr,” and with another smack, he corrects your sweet tone so you can rephrase and address him the right way. “i— i mean satoru, fuck you’re s’big. ‘m gonna cum again.”
“oh, don’t be dramatic sweetheart,” he purrs in a rich tone, feeling you already start to gape around him. your pussy flutters from his thick entrance, and once he starts up a pace you’re frantic for more. a hand of his wraps around the back of your throat like a necklace before the ruthless drilling eventually starts. the sticking cacophonous pap pap paps against each jerking limb paps was so loud. skin against skin, body against body, you felt your jaw tighten. he’s so precise and rigorous with his sharp hips that it gives you whiplash. you’re never prepared—even if you try to be. gojo knows how to hit every part of your cunt in such a way to make you squeal out in pleasure, in ecstasy. he’s got an upward curve that wanders all inside of your caved love areas. just a few thrusts and you were already salivating. “mhm,” he huffs, hearing the stickiness your cunt sings against his base. already, it’s a wet trail coating around his dick with each time he pulls out before back in. “don’t get lazy on me, pretty. i need to see a better arch. even i can do better than that.”
with a pout at his maddening cockiness, he spanks you again. you arch your back forward a bit more and he coos, “good fuckin’ girl,” and he grabs a nice chunk of your ass. burying your head into the crook of your elbow, it takes him barely any time at all to locate your forbidden g-spot.
once he hits it exactly, the sound that escapes from your lips was adorable—it was a little shriek, it sounded so beatific and harmonious it was as if he was listening to a song. a song he never wanted to end, your sweet voice. “goddamn,” he groans, feeling your ass thwack its way back against him in salacious rapture. oh, but despite that all, he knows you’re nothing but a tease. especially with your movements against him, happily moving your hips in sync with his. you’re fucking back against him and it makes him kiss his teeth. “maybe this ‘s what ya needed all along, wanted ‘ta spoil you today but all you wanted was dick, ‘s that right, sweet thing?”
“n- no,” you lie through your teeth, your own voice muffled with how you’re speaking inside of your elbow. your voice was shaky, trembling on every dragging syllable before the bed starts to get rickety. it creates sound with you both— making its own types of lewd harmonies. gojo’s weight pressing against you makes you throb, you were feeling all kinds of pleasure at once. whimpering once more at how he’s stuffing you full of thickset inches, you try to reach down to touch yourself.
“don’t play with me,” he catches your wrist again, an almost snicker departing from his lips.
damn, so close.
holding onto your wrist, he notices you squeeze his hand, rubbing a thumb against his fingers. “aw, does the baby wanna hold my hand?” and as you struggle to nod, he gently pins your arm back.“you’re somethin’ e-else.”
his words start to cut off a bit as he’s keeping up a decent tempo—the frame of the king sized bed starts to get jittery. all from the weight and his sloppy hips rigorously pounding into you. the bed’s creaking, it’s almost deafening with how it screeches aloud from the massing pounds of hefty pressure crushing against it. “d-don’t stop, please,” and he’s just fucking you into his pillow. even the satiny rich sheets of his pillows smell like him. his signature musky scent of his gojo satoru cologne.
. . speaking of,
his pillows even have his last name bedazzled on them. literal cursive letters of ‘gojo’ written in blue. if you weren’t so fucked out, you’d roll your eyes. he’s so deep, a hand of his explores the entire curvature of your hips. your curves were one of his favorite parts of your body, he could touch you all day long if he really wanted. the loving warmth that body provided him had him wanting more—yearning for more, more of you. gojo always relishes in how you respond to just a few of his fingers of his dancing against your skin. you were so sensitive and it was a real sight to witness. one of his favorite sights. “fuck, ‘toru. right there, riiight there, fuck.”
as his hips become more sharper, he hits against that same spot that causes a short circuit in your brain. you’re gasping—holding your breath before whining, he’s so thorough. hands of yours slide underneath your barely unclamped bra, fondling against your jerking tits. “good girl, play with y’r nipples for me like that,” and he swats another discourteous spank against your ass. this time it’s harder, it stings for a second and you whimper out from the sudden contact. after he spanks it, he always caresses it, rubbing the soft palm of his hand to make the sudden sting subside. “y’r so fuckin’ hot, pussy’s gonna make me fall for y—”
and he stops his words right at that last bit. your heart flutters— or maybe that was just your pussy, but you were no idiot. you knew what he was gonna say. or maybe you were delusional and misheard what he was saying.
gojo satoru was a filthy man, he steals out orgasm after orgasm out of you like it’s nothing. he was a little older, which meant that he was a bit more experienced.
quite a lot more than you by a long shot, he made you feel ways in where other men never could. couldn’t even come close. maybe that’s why you were so attracted, why you wanted more . .
a well known businessman, but downright nasty in the sheets. he couldn’t help it, nor did he even really care. gojo had you wrapped around his rich finger, just like how you had him wrapped around yours.
with him,
the passionate intimacy lasts for many many hours. timeless, numerous until your legs were sore, until you’re just being a cum dump for him. you’re pumped full until it’s leaking out of your cunt. so stuffed, with your panties still lazily pulled to the size, some remnants of his cum coats against it. he’s lost count of how many rounds it was— maybe four, five, or was it eight.
all you knew was that your legs had been gave out. you were now flat on your back and he’s fucking you in missionary.
beloved, iconic missionary,
the perfect position to stare you right into your eyes. he grows a liking to grab your chin right when you’re about to cum, peeling your bottom lip down, only to then shove a tongue down your throat. speaking between breathy sentences, he groans—rocking his fit body against yours. “kiss me, baby, suck my tongue,” and as he’s swaying back and forth, washboard abs poking through his shirt, your legs lock around his slim waist. a hand of yours slides its way through his dress shirt and tux, feeling against his faint chest hair and washboard abs before you part your lips. you only then start to gradually suck against the tip of his tongue. his heart beats speedily, synchronizing with yours entirely. he’s dizzy, the static that your body produces against him makes his head throw back as he pulls away. glancing up at the ceiling, still presenting your cunt deep solid strokes—he knew you were gonna be a problem.
his prettiest problem,
perhaps he wasn’t starting to think of you as just his sugar baby, maybe even something more . . but he buried that thought into the very back of his mind. all he really cared about was your pleasure.
pulling away for a moment, still buried into your sopping wet cunt, he grips your chin. whispering in a weary tone, smiling at you, he sighs. “. . tell me,” and he gifts your wet lips a chaste kiss. “you wanna finish with me, pretty?”
“p- please,” you moan, your legs tightly locking around his waist, never letting go. everything was a mess— the entire room had a balmy aroma of love and passion. the both of you were sweating, beads of sweat coating each body. more so gojo, this was a mere work out for him. although, he was actually used to using his body on a daily, so physical activity never bothered him in the slightest. your stomach continues to seize from his fat length and he inches his mouth toward your neck again. his lips were so soft, gently sucking against your tender skin throughout each intimate moment.
viscous amounts of cum race down your thighs as if it’s some kind of lewd competition. as it’s slowly trickling down between your legs slowly, a hand of his slithers down your shaky limbs to feel it. to make sure it doesn’t go to waste, to make sure it doesn’t spill.
gojo satoru’s cum was priceless—quite literally probably. plugging it back in before you whine. “wanna cum with you, ‘toru.”
“can never say no to you, baby,” he hums, bringing another kiss to your lips. despite his raspy worn out tone—he’s still so gentle with your body in his hands. gojo’s zealous hips slow down a bit before his lips capture against yours again. a hand swiftly wraps around your throat, briskly oscillating back against your body before another hand grabs the headboard. you glance up, spitting the veins poke out through his sleeves that were peeling down. he’s giving you slow, sensual thrusts. “fuuuck . . me,” and his words were delayed by a few seconds. he’s mercilessly grinding against your heat so good to where it becomes sloppy. he’s so close again—he knows that feeling all too well. you didn’t know what to focus on. gojo’s length, the girth that keeps your walls sweetly captive, or his voice but it was all so appetizing. so . . flavorsome.
he couldn’t help but slow down his hips a bit. with a single hand, he reaches down to pull his leaky dick out right before he came. he shot into you already—dozens of times actually, but he felt like being a tease again.
“ugh,” he groans, feeling his base swollen itself up. as you finish on your own, your body transmitting into a shockwave of a wave of rapturing rhapsody he mimics you before a stringy amount of ropes splat right onto your folds. it’s so much, so viscous and goopy that paints the entrance of your cunt to where it’s as if your pussy was a mere canvas for him. “look at thaaaat,” and as he licks his lips, you’re shaking right underneath him. gojo leans in to kiss you and that’s when the bed suddenly jitters. it’s rumbling but he ignores it— bringing you into the nth kiss for the night. “atta girl.” he whispers between kisses.
as you’re leaning into his touch, your anklet erotically rubs down the muscles of his back in such a sensual way. with tongues tangling together in corresponding harmony, the expensive wood on the headboard suddenly breaks. it’s a ear-splitting noise, an almost creak. noticing the noise, you break away from his lips before sheepishly muttering.
“did the bed just . . break?”
“perhaps,” gojo whispers, but he was totally unfazed. you had him pussy whipped, he didn’t even look tired.
pretty cerulean irises gaze into your all—so pretty that it almost could be mistaken for a solid pigment of green. a jade loving kind of green that you only see in jewels. his intense, needy stare longs into you for a few more seconds before he makes you flip over. you gasp, still feeling his cum ooze out of you from the inside. it was so feverishly warm, sweltering hot with bulks of his sticky seed. all that and you just wanted more, you didn’t care how greedy or needy you came across.
snickering, gojo picks up the money that’s scattered everywhere on the bed only to put them right back on your back where it belongs—
he then sticks a single fifty dollar bill between your lazily stuck-to-the-side panties before letting off a dry laugh.
“let’s not worry about that though. let’s worry ‘bout how ‘m gonna try ‘ta get you pregnant, tonight sweetheart. nowww, let’s practice that arch again one more time, my love. bend over just for me, yeah. atta fuckin’ girl.”
#★vegasbaby.#gojo x reader#gojo smut#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru smut#gojo x you#gojo x reader smut#gojo x y/n#gojo satoru x you#gojou satoru x reader#satoru gojo x reader#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x reader smut#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujustsu kaisen x reader#anime smut#female reader#jjk imagines#cw sex mention
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felix's eyebrow piercing in saltburn deserves a nobel prize for making me care about jacob elordi
#i am fucking sapphic#i stopped caring immediately when the eyebrow piercing was not there#and yet#i see that fucker in my dreams#i could not give less of a shit about euphoria#dont care about priscilla#not fucking touching the kissing booth#but one piece of metal has made me insane#emerald fennel what have you done to me
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"Itadori-kun. Good. You're on time."
Kento checked his watch, clearly distracted, as Yuuji approached with pocketed hands. The shopping centre was bustling, a hive of activity around them. Yuuji ruffled his own hair, unsure.
"Yeah, I just...wasn't sure why we're meeting here, is all."
Still distracted, Kento tapped off a message, before slipping his phone back into his inner pocket. He rarely offered smiles when there was business yet to be done, and today was no different.
"I was hoping for your assistance with a few errands before your school term ends. I'm sure you'll be busy with your friends after then, and I shouldn't like to take your vacation time. I'm sure you're looking forward to the break."
In truth, Yuuji deflated just at the thought of it; though he was an orphan amongst orphans, he didn't favour empty time in the way he used to, with memory and the devil as his constant companions. Still he smiled.
"Yeah! Can't wait. Got...got loads planned."
Kento read Yuuji, shrewd for a moment, before hyper-focusing on the task at hand.
"Quite. Come along, Yuuji."
Yuuji grew more and more flummoxed as Kento's list of errands tickered out before them. Too polite to question why, and with absolute faith that Kento had good reason to drag him along for the ride, Yuuji stomached it all with confused good grace.
Yuuji blinked, momentarily blinded by the flash of light in the photo booth. He grinned for the next photo, and Kento's cool deep voice rumbled past the curtain.
"No smiling, Yuuji."
"H-huh? How did you know?"
"Was I wrong?"
"Uh...sorry, Nanamin."
As a strip of tiny poe-faced photos clicked into the dispenser, Yuuji couldn't understand why Nanamin was so satisfied by such bland pictures. Yuuji was, however, touched; clearly Nanamin liked wallet photos as he liked his suits-- beige. Kento clipped across Yuuji's thoughts.
"Do you like the beach, Yuuji?"
Yuuji blinked. "The beach...?"
"Yes. The beach. Do you like it?"
"Uh...I guess. Why?"
Kento hummed, satisfied, not answering Yuuji's question. Instead, as he passed Yuuji his coffee, he stood and leaned around Yuuji, gently pulling at the back of Yuuji's collar. Yuuji twisted to look, baffled now, and Kento released him, sitting with another satisfied hum. He tapped on his phone again.
"Your identification documents are in your room at Jujutsu High?"
"Nanamin...what's this about?"
"It's important to take care of your documents, Yuuji."
"...so you're just...checking up on me?"
Kento smiled, polite. "Of course." A pause. "I assume you'd like to come back to ours for dinner?"
Yuuji brimmed with unasked questions. "I don't need to-- I'm not really that hungry-- honestly a coffee is great--"
"Mrs.Nanami has cooked extra."
"God, yes, please, I'm starving."
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The summer vacation approached Yuuji like a black cloud. He could not bring himself to be excited for enforced inactivity; his casual offers to assist staff on missions fell on deaf ears. Gojo laughed Yuuji off with a clap on the shoulder. Yuuji smiled away the gentle rejection; he did not have the stomach to beg to work.
Instead, Yuuji stewed, leaning on his rainy windowsill until cicada buzz replaced the pitter-patter of water on earth. Late July arrived, unwelcome, and Yuuji steeped in a pit of dread.
At 2am, on the first day of summer vacation, Yuuji's phone rang. Bleary-eyed, and flat, he looked away from his computer screen and lowered his headset. He looked at his screen with a lurching gut; he answered the phone.
"Nanamin?"
A voice, rusty with sleeplessness. "Ah, Yuuji. I apologise for waking you at this hour. I need help with a mission. Are you available?"
Yuuji perked up immediately, tail wagging. "Y-yeah! Yeah, totally! I can be ready...er...in ten? Yeah?"
Kento's voice smiled. "Good. I'll pick you up."
Yuuji danced from his desk chair, shaking off his joggers and wriggling into his uniform with a grin, ruffling his hair before the mirror. In barely two minutes, he was ready, a spring in his step as he headed to wait outside. He felt so light, so relieved, and he grabbed his keys, opening his door to--
"Oh, shi--...Nanamin?"
Kento stood at the door, comfortable in loose clothes, and...sandals? It was an odd contrast to the backdrop of night, and Kento's usual attire. Kento smiled again, polite.
"Yes. Are you ready?"
"Y-yeah, I'm...how did you get here so fast?"
"The roads are quiet at this time of night, Yuuji."
A pause. "...Nanamin."
"Yuuji."
"Are you fucking with me?"
"Language."
When Yuuji opened his mouth to argue back, his jaw dropped, as you bustled up the corridor behind Kento with a sleepy grin on your face. You slapped Kento's elbow, shooting him a chastising look.
"Morning, Yuuji! Excited?" You pressed a kiss to his cheek, whirling past to invade his bedroom. Yuuji was speechless, horribly confused.
Kento checked his watch as you bustled around. Tapped his foot as you bustled around. Tutted, and leaned pointedly round the corner to stare at you as you bustled around.
"Darling, we're going to be la--"
"--don't give me attitude, Kento, we are about 6 hours early, and you know it--"
"--it pays off to check-in ahead of schedule--"
"--hush. I'll have words with you later."
Kento bristled, pugnacious. You walked out of Yuuji's room with his rucksack in hand. You pinched his chin, gesturing him along with your hand.
"Come on, Yuuji. Before Mr.Organised has conniptions."
Yuuji felt himself swept along by Kento, who still scoffed, mulish. The night air smelled sweet, and Yuuji found himself gently bodied into the back seat of Kento's car.
"--Nanamin-- I don't understand--"
You shot Kento a pointed look from the passenger seat. At first frowning, then with dawning realisation, you scolded Kento in disbelief.
"...you haven't told him."
Kento almost smirked as he rolled the car away over gravel. "I don't know what you mean."
You looked from Kento, to Yuuji, and back again. You reached slowly into Kento's bag, rummaging. Yuuji felt a glossy little book pressed into his hands.
"...a...passport?"
"...Kento didn't tell you."
Never one for expecting a gift, Yuuji couldn't see one when placed before his eyes. "Tell me what? Nanamin?"
Kento chuckled to himself, his eyes glimmering at Yuuji in the rearview mirror.
"Our flight is at 10:30, Yuuji."
Yuuji peered into the seat beside him; a new suitcase, neatly labelled with a luggage tag in his name. He yanked it to the seat beside him, unzipping it, and finding it full of new swimsuits, t-shirts, shorts, sandals, everything he could possibly need. He opened the glossy new passport in his hands, and hiccupped, his breath catching in his chest.
Yuuji rammed into realisation with prickling eyes, and a quiet sniffle, his eyes hidden in the dark. His reply was thick, stilted.
"Our flight...to where?"
"Malaysia. Now give me back that passport. You'll only lose it."
#papamin au#Papamin by Haitch#Papamin by pseudowho#nanami my love#pseudowho#jjk#kento nanami#nanami kento#jjk nanami#kento nanami x reader#kento nanami x you#nanami fluff#jujutsu kaisen nanami#jujutsu nanami#kento nanami x y/n#nanami kento fluff#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento x you#nanami x reader#nanami x y/n#nanami x you#nanami fanart#jjk kento#yuji itadori#jjk itadori#jujutsu itadori#yuji#yuuji itadori#sukuna#itadori yuuji
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𝓜𝐒. & 𝐌𝐑. 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓 ୨୧ 𝐏𝐒𝐇
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/bae54816fa8fdeef628fb900f20a862f/2911e1f391b4ea65-3c/s540x810/2866921acd0c6019a6c089744d50267e41f3e365.jpg)
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(𝓹airing) — psh x fmr ꣑୧ 𝓯renemies to lovers ; fluff, profanity, & lots of kissing (𝔀ordcount) one-thousand five-hundred forty 𝓹eng's note. these pics. #iWantThat 𝓫ookshelf
𝓼ynopsis. seeing your ex in public leads to hiding in a small photobooth with your annoying student council vice president park sunghoon
“you’re late,” sunghoon says in the most agitating voice possible as you walk through the classroom door.
“i wouldn’t be late if you did your job,” you huff, walking right up to the desk he sat at and dropping the bags of decorations you had picked up from the party supplies store.
“hey! i said i would pick those up!” he says annoyed, sifting through everything you brought.
“mrs. kim said we needed them by today! why the fuck were you just sitting around?”
“geez, loosen up,” the boy gets up from his seat, his tall body looming over yours. “let’s just go decorate the gym.”
the two of you split up the bags of party supplies and headed towards the gym where the rest of the council and student volunteers were waiting.
setting up for the fundraiser was easy until you and sunghoon started yelling at each other over which color streamers should be used over the doorway.
jake had to drag you away by the shoulders to come to help him with the balloons. sunghoon felt a bitter taste when he saw jake with his arm around your shoulder but decided to ignore it.
“hoon,” jungwon calls out. “we’re out of balloons!”
“that’s why i should have bought the decorations…” sunghoon mutters under his breath before walking up to where you and jake were giggling.
sunghoon walks up behind you and places a hand on your shoulder. “we have to go back to the store.” he whispers in your ear.
you freeze at his touch but nod and say goodbye to jake. he lets go of you and the two of you walk out the exit leading to the parking lot.
the two of you get into sunghoon’s car and he drives off to the mall.
there’s an awkward silence between the both of you, which you can’t decide if you like bantering with him over it. there’s so much tension due to sunghoon’s lingering touch from earlier.
once inside the mall, you quietly walked side by side into the automatic doors.
only a few feet from the party supplies stores you halt. spotting your ex-boyfriend and old friend seemingly on a date.
“sunghoon,” you whisper, tapping on his shoulder. “do you see what i see?”
he rolls his eyes at you finally breaking the silence but then looks up to see for himself. once he does that the two seem to have had the same idea, making eye contact with the other.
“oh shit they saw us,” he panics, grabbing your hand and pulling you into the photo booth you were conveniently standing next to.
the photo booth is small. way too small. sunghoon is already sitting as you uncomfortably sit on the ledge with your legs peeking out from the curtain.
“get up,” he instructs.
“what?” you raise an eyebrow. “i’m not letting them see me again! especially not with you!”
“i meant like come here,” sunghoon grabs you and settles you on his lap, so the both of you fit into the small space.
“oh my god, what if they come over here!” you panic resting your hands on his shoulders. “this is bad! especially since i’m with you of all people-”
“with me?” sunghoon questions.
“well, like when we were dating, he always thought you had a crush on me, which isn’t impossible! i had to keep reassuring him but he never believed me! like me and you are barely even friends-” you ramble, balling sunghoon’s shirt in your fists as you freak out.
“woah, calm down,” he tells you, prying your hands from his uniform so you don’t wrinkle it. “it’s not like they’ll come to talk to us.”
just as the words left his mouth the sound of two sets of footsteps were picked up by your ears. you started to become overwhelmingly nervous. it was the first time seeing your ex-boyfriend since the split and the fact your childhood best friend was on a date with him.
even if you drifted, shouldn’t she have some sense of girl code?
“you’re shaking,” sunghoon stares at you.
“no i’m not!” you shake your head, your heartbeat being undeniably fast. “but like i haven’t had a date since him and that’s kind of sad for me-”
“i swear i saw her,” the familiar voice of your old friend says, sounding so close. “it could have been anyone though.”
“no, i saw her and that motherfucker,” your ex hisses.
“wow, i’m ‘motherfucker’,” sunghoon whispers, rolling his eyes.
“if he made a move on her i swear.”
“hey, i have an idea,” he says in your ear.
sunghoon reaches for his phone out of his pocket, holding you close as he leans over slightly to pay the machine for a photo. the screen activates after processing his card and he selects a random frame.
the camera starts going and you sit confused as sunghoon starts posing. you can’t help but watch him. he always looks pretty but you must admit he knows how to pose.
you peek over to the curtain to see two pairs of legs standing outside the photo booth. you can only assume it’s them.
“you weren’t looking in any of them,” sunghoon recalls, pressing print on the screen.
“oh, sorry,” you turn your attention back to him.
“it’s fine, let's do another one,” he says nonchalantly as he pays for another photo strip.
this time sunghoon shifts in his spot, making it so that your face can be seen on the screen without having to turn you around in his lap.
you awkwardly copy sunghoon’s poses until by the second to last picture you hear him again.
“that fucker is in the photo booth,” the male voice outside says, seeing as he drops the photo strip back into where it fell from.
“come closer,” he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear.
“fine,” you lean onto him. “but don’t show my face too much. i’m not wearing concealer today.”
“you look just as pretty,” sunghoon leans closer so your lips barely brush the others. “maybe even prettier than usual.”
he brings his thumb to your bottom lip, gently stroking it before closing the gap.
you hate to admit it but kissing sunghoon was everything you expected and more. you’ve caught yourself daydreaming about his lips on yours during one-on-one meetings in the conference room. when his hair is still damp from his after-shower practice and his face is still slightly flushed.
park sunghoon can make you mad, especially when he got secretary over you in freshman year. but you cannot deny that even when bitter about the council's choice you wanted to kiss that proud smile on his face.
he made you mad when he stole your posters when you were running for secretary again the next year. but after he found you crying in the far stairwell he explained he only did that because he thinks you should run for president instead. sunghoon even pulled out another stack of flyers he made for you that he spent the whole night doing.
the sunghoon that got you both kicked out of a council meeting for arguing with each other is the same sunghoon with his lips molded perfectly against yours.
the same boy that had you studying your ass off when class ranks came out, since he’s your only competition, is the same boy in front of you now with his lips locked on yours.
you start to feel dizzy by the decreased amount of air in your lungs by the minute but you can’t bring yourself to let go just yet. when you start seeing black specs dotting your vision you finally pull away to see a heavily panting sunghoon with a flushed face.
“sorry,” sunghoon apologizes as he catches his breath.
your heart sinks. he only kissed you to distract you and probably so your ex will see the photos when they print.
“oh,” you fight the frown threatening to appear on your face. “it’s okay. he’s probably gone now.”
“i would have asked for your permission but you looked really stressed and i thought it would help you get your mind off your asshole ex.”
“thanks,” you say with a pout sunghoon finds adorable.
“you still seem sad,” he pokes at your sides, making you squirm in his hold. “maybe another kiss?”
“maybe,” you say shyly.
sunghoon is out forty dollars by the time you and he are done kissing in the photo booth. he kept mindlessly swiping his card as his lips stayed on yours to prevent anyone from kicking you two out since you were there for a considerable amount of time.
you’re interrupted by sunghoon’s phone ringing profusely.
“where are you two?” jungwon asks in a panic. “we need those balloons.”
“traffic,” sunghoon says as you plant a line of kisses down his neck, hands tangled in the hair at his nape.
“hurry up,” jungwon advises him.
you and sunghoon return to school an hour and a half after you originally left. with a bag of balloons and a stack of photo strips. most of them capturing purely just of you two making out.
when stepping foot in the gym and you go over to hand jungwon the balloons he so desperately needed. he quickly notices the matching hickeys forming on both your necks and how disheveled your uniforms and hair appear.
“traffic huh?” jungwon asks as his eyes flicker between both of you.
"lots," you nod as you walk away to help minjeong tie balloons.
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