#this is weekend entertainment for us
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Watching a drawfee moments comp video with husband, see the Jacob fursona drawing (still so cool) with Jacobs initials at the top (JBA).
Me: I wonder what his middle name is.. gotta be Brian, right?
Husband: … Bacob
Me: of course. Jacob Bacob Andrews.
#shit my husband says#shit my partner says#drawfee#we’re in our 30s#this is weekend entertainment for us
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hey seth! i'm just a random guy that's been really into sunny for the past year, and i always love your tweets. you, loren, and anna have been on my fyp a lot the past weekend, and i know a lot of people are being assholes about it, but it's genuinely so heartwarming to see. you three definitely deserve it and are the best kind of people for this to happen to. you always come off as respectful of rcg. hope you can pass the message along to them both too! have a great day
Thank you for the kind message, I really really appreciate it and so do Anna and Loren! Glad you got into the show :)
Honestly I get people are lashing out/shit talking because it does seem kinda weird to witness through a screen how much we’ve been able to interact with them and the interactions we’ve had. I know people are jealous, too (as in have told me they are, and I was certainly jealous last year when Rob didn’t do any events in NYC bc he was sick but did them in Philly a few days later) and I totally get that. Whatever the reason for people being assholes is, I don’t really take it personally. They don’t know the full story of literally anything that happened, they’re just watching through a screen and making their own assumptions of before, after, and in between all these clips they’re seeing, and trying to find something to justify how they feel. The claims that I’ve been ‘stalking’ them or ‘overstepping boundaries’ are genuinely just funny to me when every place we’ve met them has been an event that was publicly posted to Instagram/Facebook well in advance.
(And I’m not gonna talk on Twitter about certain details of this, but I feel like I can probably disclose here that the Four Walls people approached me to tell me/give me things and not the other way around. Their socials dmed me, followed me, Rob followed me, etc. I had literally no sway in them choosing to do those things or introducing themselves to me in person and organically engaging in conversations with me.)
We want to share our interactions with RCG on social media because we think most people appreciate and enjoy their interactions with fans (and also the small amounts of Sunny info we got), and that’s it. I don’t need to share or brag about anything. I would be perfectly content keeping everything that happened this weekend to myself (I very much avoid otherwise sharing my face or voice on social media, so I genuinely have to overcome that insecurity to even be able to share these things), but we know the majority of fans like to see this stuff and that’s why we have been posting everything.
Your message (and others i’ve received) means a lot. I’m glad the majority of people are enjoying our interactions with them and I really appreciate the time you spend to send this ask, really! And I’ll be back to posting regularly scheduled actual Sunny content very shortly :)
#ask#like how do i explain#charlie literally walked right up to us#and had to be DRAGGED away#bc he didn’t want to stop talking to us#it sounds literally delusional and made up#like i gen wouldn’t believe that if it didn’t happen to me lol#same shit with my phone screen#ppl thinking i forced him to look at macdennis fanart#literally just comical#but i can’t explain the context#it all sounds made up bc it’s surreal it happened#so honestly ? anyone can feel however they want#about interactions and clips. cos yeah i would maybe be sus as well#like literally what is happening#but shittalking on my posts or in my mentions#or sending me weird shit on anonymous#i’m not gonna entertain or accept lol#nameless faceless people who don’t understand 5% of what happened this weekend#trying to tell me what happened to me is just funny#again cos it’s. literally mind boggling to me#so i accept a lot of ppl just. will be pissed cos it makes no sense#these are 47 year old ‘cishet’ men#with a certain public perception#and yeah you bet your ass i was shocked at how they interacted with us#but i know how it went#i know how they feel#and i think most of you do too :)
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i need anne bonny to be terrible btw (affectionate)
#i need her to be such a bitch!!!!! such a little shit!!!!!#i need her to be there for a good time and she WILL use you as her entertainment with no remorse#i need her laughing and eating popcorn while ed + stede fight because of something she said#i need her to be kissing stede because 'it'll make ed jealous and make him make a move!'#(she just thinks its funny)#women should be a menace. as a treat#read: i need her to be the exact woman cj would marry#nyxtalks#ofmd#ofmd s2 spoilers#anne bonny#see also: i need her + izzy to get on like a house on fire holy shit putting these two together was a bad idea quick separate them before#they set a town on fire oh god izzy put down the knife#anne&izzy is so precious to me. i think they have little murder weekends
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Spouse and I were watching Wonder Woman 1984 this weekend and somehow I had this feeling that...
(Wonder Woman 1984, 2020)
... is very much like...
(Sailor Moon, 1992-1997)
But then I found out that...
(Wonder Woman, 1974-1979)
So here I stand corrected.
#i liked the movie#wonder woman 1984#very entertaining#nice action scenes#took a while for me to get used to the Lasso of Truth defying any law of physics tho#but after i finally got accustomed it was great fun#the cameo at the end was a clear highlight#so glad they did this#wonder woman#wonder woman 1974#gal gadot#lynda carter#sailor moon#bishojo senshi sailor moon#projectile tiara#p s this weekend we also watched#professor marston and the wonder women#which was more fascinating than i anticipated#schroed's thoughts
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'Andrew Haigh’s All of Us Strangers won Film of the Year and LGBTQ Film of the Year honors from the Dorian Film Awards, the annual honors bestowed GALECA: The Society of LGBTQ Entertainment Critics.
The Searchlight drama starring Andrew Scott and Paul Mescal as two troubled souls who fall for each other in lonely London, also scored a leading third win, LGBTQ Screenplay of the Year, for Haigh’s script. It led all nominees this year with nine.
“Twelve years ago, Andrew Haigh’s fresh and observant queer romance Weekend ruled our Dorians as well,” GALECA president Walt Hickey said Monday in revealing the awards. “So the fact that Strangers obviously touched many of our members’ hearts as well counts as sort of a sweet homecoming to our organization.”...
Film of the Year
All of Us Strangers (Searchlight)
LGBTQ Film of the Year
All of Us Strangers (Searchlight)
LGBTQ Screenplay of the Year
Andrew Haigh All of Us Strangers (Searchlight)...'
#All of Us Strangers#Searchlight#Andrew Haigh#GALECA#Weekend#Andrew Scott#Paul Mescal#The Society of LGBTQ Entertainment Critics#Dorian Awards
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:/
#vent incoming#id really appreciate it if my ex uhhh respected my boundaries#like its nothing groundbreaking#but she likes to go out with people drinking and whenever she does shes very unfocused when responding to my messages#(we have lengthy conversations about stuff and she keeps them going despite hanging out with people which no comment there)#and I always get overwhelmed and anxious when it goes on for a long while because I cant make sense of the conversation n stuff#so i tried to push the conversations into a lull whenever she was out#and last weekend i kinda lost my patience with it and told her directly that i dont fuck with this anymore and i refuse to do this#we can have a few 'hi how are you where you at how you doing whats up' kinda stuff going but never the in depth stuff we talk about#she was whiny but eventually just let me have my way because i wouldnt entertain the rest#and today she was responding kinda funny and i wondered if its just me being bad at talking again or if shes busy with stuff#no :) she went out and didnt tell me :) and she just slipped up because she was frustrated about her friend getting drunk :)#i shouldnt even be posting this but ugh I am just. so tired#i get it she missed me cause i was away for most of the day and wouldnt even respond cause i dont use data when im out#but pulling this is just not it
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Y'all I so want to participate in InuKag Week but I don't think I even have the energy to pick up a pen let alone draw stuff 😩😭
#i just got back from a week and a half learning how to drive by my brother and let me tell you he took the job VERY SERIOUSLY#which is good but he'd drag me outta bed by 8 or sometimes 6 so we could practice#plus we did a lot of stuff together or had friends of his and family come over to interact with or entertain#I actually had a mothers day drawing I got started on but couldn't finish bc we were so busy.#i still might post it tho so don't worry#and then we drove down to FL where we met up with my mom and aunt and stayed a few days#then we had to rush home because I had work scheduled this weekend#so then we got home and i had barely 45 minutes to get dressed for work & I finished work only for us to go to dinner bc it was my b-day#and then I worked again today and tomorrow will be the first day in forever where I dont need to be anywhere and meet people#oh and I also have summer classes starting on May 30th#I had a lot of fun of course and I enjoy seeing people and like my job but I'm so freaking tired guys and my feet hurt😩#so of I end up not posting any art for InuKag Week ya'll will at least know I'm not dead#i know I usually only post 1 or 2 drawings for the Week anyway but still#inuyasha#kagome higurashi#inukag#the hanyou and his miko#inukag week#inukag week 2023#story of my life
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glass onion tidbit (spoilers)
before I do this, know that this is a down and dirty quick splash of an idea that’s been knocking around my head since watching it. particular wording I know needs work and if I were writing up a paper this would be much more thought out and particular words would be very considered. in short, there are a few phrases I use here which could be picked at to undermine the entire argument and that’s not the sort of feedback I want to engage with. consider the vibe rather than the exact phrasing
thesis: Blanc’s character can point out what’s wrong but will not take the necessary corrective actions. a perfect allegory of liberal American politics that just wants to be correct, not do the correct thing
antithesis: it wasn’t Blanc’s action to take. he’s not some sort of white savior. he helped create the situation by exposing the truth but then left the shot at justice in the hands of the one person who deserved it, Brand
synthesis: Netflix workshopped and focus grouped a fun film targeted at a specific audience one might describe as “woke maskers” -- no offense intended to fellow politically motivated mask wearers. the film works very hard to create a situation where you can feel good that the Mona Lisa gets destroyed while of course the Mona Lisa doesn’t get destroyed irl. one of the first things it does is make up a fantasy mouth spray so that you don’t have to hand wring about Blanc and the others not wearing masks during their Covid party. our antagonist/villain is a guy just as insufferable as everyone else you want to punch on the screen, with the exception that we’re given some good reasons you’d actually punch him, whereas the social norms (the status quo we wouldn’t dare disrupt) say we can’t do that to the others
it’s a film about feeling good when the stars align and some rich asshole gets justice but not actually rocking the boat enough to do it for real. it’s about ignoring systemic issues to focus instead on intensely personal ones. the system is unimpeachable. you can only lash out at individual actors within the system when they commit some personal crime. like the “disruptors” in the film, the work’s final act of disruption and the good feelings it brings the audience are ultimately the false catharsis of a bourgeois placebo intended to placate its target audience. you know you’re good because you consumed a good film. there’s no need to do more (and you’re good: good people wouldn’t burn the Mona Lisa)
#glass onion#critical reading#I don't have the energy right now to get into this more but#if I wanted to write like a 15 page paper#it'd be about the history of the american labor movement and how glass onion informs us about the ways it has failed#culminating in this sort of usurpation to be used by a tech/media giant to just give us an hour and a half of entertainment#we'd much rather watch the rich get the guillotine on the big screen and feel good because we think that's just#than to do the work of making a more just world ourselves#even that's a bit more cut and dry than the topic deserves#anyway if someone feels like expanding on it please do#i saw a joke about how the perfect ending woulda been for blanc to test positive after the weekend#and yes absolutely that woulda worked a bit at shall we say disrupting this fantasy#we still have to worry about covid#but structurally the narrative isn't set up to do anything else#like it'd take huge rewrites to retain the mystery and general plot#while pointing the finger at the system#rather than at one rich asshole
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Heated Waters
synopsis: being married is hard, being married without seeing each other is even harder.
⚝ content: Hiromi Higuruma x F! Reader, nsfw, bathtub sex, fingering, Hiromi neglects his wife, but boy does he make up for it
⚝ wc: 1.9k
“Yeah we do it pretty much every day.”
Satoru said, taking a leisurely sip of his water. His pale face alight with mischief, a shit-eating grin across his lips. His three coworkers stared at him in (jealousy) disbelief.
Suguru was the first to break the silence, wanting to save face “Everyday is a bit much, isn’t it, Satoru?”
Satoru chuckled, his blue eyes glinting with amusement as he watched his friend squirm. "What about you guys? How often do our married friends get it in?" His gaze flickered to Nanami, who cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses, his eyes fixed on the steam rising from his coffee cup.
“Twice a week, I suppose…”
Satoru's smile widened, clearly entertained by the responses he was drawing out. He then turned his attention to the oldest among them, Hiromi Higuruma, who was carefully straightening his tie, a subtle attempt to avoid eye contact.
“What about you, Higuruma?”
“Your wife, (Y/N) is a little younger than you, right? C’mon Higuruma-San…She a total freak?” Satoru teased.
Hiromi's jaw tightened, a flicker of irritation crossing his features as his grip on his coffee cup tightened. He took a slow, measured breath, his voice strained but controlled when he finally spoke.
“Please don’t talk about my wife like that.”
But Satoru, ever the instigator, didn’t back down. “It’s just us guys riiggght? And I can’t lie Higuruma, you’re one lucky guy. (Y/N) is a catch.”
Nanami nodded in agreement, as did Suguru, though both seemed to sense the discomfort growing in Hiromi. The older man could only sigh, his shoulders sagging under the weight of the conversation.
It was true—you were everything he could have ever wanted in a partner. Beautiful, intelligent, kind-hearted—his perfect match. If heaven existed, Hiromi was certain you’d be the only one worthy of it.
But long nights in the office, and early mornings preparing for court would take a toll on any relationship. The truth was… Hiromi hadn’t touched you in over a month. By the time he came home—you were fast asleep, and weekends were spent running the mountain of errands you couldn’t get to during the week. You loved each other of course, but it was hard. A month without feeling the warmth of your husband's hands all over your skin was starting to weigh heavily on both of you.
“You don’t have to answer Higuruma-san..” Nanami chimed in, sensing his elder colleague’s discomfort.
“Over a month.” Hiromi exhaled, the truth slipping out before he could stop it.
The room fell silent, the weight of his words sinking in.
“WHAT?” Gojo audibly gasps. “Your wife looks like THAT and you haven’t f—”
Suguru swiftly cut him off with a well-placed elbow to the chest. “Satoru… leave Higuruma alone.” The long-haired male warns. “Still, that is surprising.”
“I know I know..” Higuruma pinches his bridge. He wanted nothing more than to have his wife under him… on top of him. But the endless stream of work kept him trapped in a cycle of exhaustion. “I’ve been so busy I can’t even remember the last time I actually spoke to her properly.”
Suguru offered an apologetic smile. “Sounds like you need a break.”
“Sounds like you need some puss—” Nanami quickly elbowed Satoru in the chest before he could finish his sentence.
Hiromi shook his head, letting out a dry chuckle as he ran a hand through his dark locks, clearly frustrated with himself. “I appreciate your concern, guys, but I don’t see how I can take a break right now. I have so much work to do, and I’m the only one who knows how to handle all of it.”
“Higuruma-San. Satoru will take care of the paperwork for you.” Nanami suggested with a deadpan expression.
“HUH?” Satoru blurted out, clearly caught off guard by the sudden assignment.
“Yeah,” Nanami continued, ignoring Satoru’s protest. “It’s not like he actually does any work around here anyway.”
Suguru smirked, nodding in agreement. “That’s true. You might as well make yourself useful, Satoru.”
Before Hiromi could protest, the trio moved in unison—Suguru grabbing Hiromi’s briefcase, Nanami steering him toward the door, and Satoru sighing dramatically as he resigned himself to the task.
“Are… are you boys sure about this? I don’t want to burden you–”
“Nonsense! Go home and take care of your wife!”
Hiromi placed his briefcase by the door, his tie feeling suddenly too tight around his neck. He loosened it with a sigh, running a hand through his hair as he glanced around. The familiar scent of home greeted him. It was comforting yet bittersweet, a reminder of all the moments he had missed. The living room was tidy, the soft hum of the dishwasher running in the kitchen. You had clearly been busy, taking care of the house as you always did, even when he wasn’t around.
“Honey?” Hiromi calls out to you, his voice echoing slightly in the stillness.
Frowning, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over the back of a chair before making his way down the hall. As he approached the bathroom, he noticed a faint light seeping out from under the door, accompanied by the sound of water gently lapping against the tub.
He hesitated for a moment, then slowly opened the door.
The sight that greeted him made his breath catch in his throat. There you were, reclining in the bathtub, your eyes closed, head resting on the edge as steam rose around you. The soft glow of candles illuminated the room, casting a warm, serene light over your features.
You looked so peaceful, so beautiful—that it almost hurt to look at you. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly as he took in the sight, but the guilt and longing only deepened. How long had it been since he’d taken the time to appreciate you like this? Since he’d been able to just… be with you?
You opened your eyes, gaze meeting your husband as he leaned against the door frame.
“Hiromi?” you murmured, your voice soft, almost questioning, as if unsure whether he was really there or just a figment of your imagination.
“Hey Honey…” his voice equally soft, as he took a tentative step closer. The warmth of the room seemed to wrap around him, melting away some of the day’s stress.
“You’re home early.” You muse, looking at him as you rested your arms on the tub. He doesn’t respond, just walks towards you with purposeful steps.
Hiromi stares down at you with half-lidded eyes.“The guys decided I need a break.” He paused, his breath hitching slightly as he continued, “Can I join you?” A playful smirk tugged at the corner of your lips.
“Only if you take off your clothes this time.”
A dry chuckle escaped his lips as he unbuttons his dress shirt, letting each article of clothing fall to the tile floor. As he finally sheds his boxers before settling behind you. You exhaled softly, the tension you’d been holding onto for weeks dissipating as you sank into your husband’s embrace.
Hiromi didn’t waste a moment, his lips finding the sensitive skin of your neck, placing lazy, lingering kisses along the curve where your shoulder met your throat. His breath was warm against your skin, his kisses slow and unhurried, as if savoring every second, every inch of you.
His hands weren’t idle either, tracing gentle patterns along your stomach, moving upwards to cup your breasts with a tenderness that made your breath hitch. He nipped lightly at your earlobe, his voice a husky murmur, “I’ve missed you… more than you know.”
“Missed you too ‘Romi..” Your voice trembling as the almost foreign heat began to pool in your core.
Deft fingers teased your nipples, rolling and pinching—eliciting a soft moan from your lips as your body arched into his touch. Your hand reached back, tangling in his dark locks, pulling him closer as his lips traveled down to your shoulder, his other hand snaking under the water to your aching cunt.
“ahhhh… s-shitt..” You cry out as Hiromi’s fingers slowly circle your swollen bud. His touch light, teasing.
“Thirty-two days… I’m so sorry m’love.” He mumbles into your shoulder as he slips a slender digit into your entrance. Your walls flutter immediately around the intrusion, as he gently pumped into you.
He adds another finger, curling up to the spot he had neglected all those weeks. He extended his thumb to rub your clit. You arch your back against him, feeling his cock twitch against your ass.
“Hiro…” you moan, reaching behind for him, but he bites down lightly on your shoulder.
“Not yet, pretty girl, want you t’cum first okay?”
He whispers as he feels your gummy walls clench around him.
He speeds up his ministrations, digits stuffing your cunt as your pussy throbs and squelches. Your whimpers echo around the tiled walls, water lapping around your bodies.
You feel the pressure building as each thrust of his long fingers brush against your g-spot.
“g-gonna cum!”
“Cum f’me sweetheart please—god… need it so bad.” Hiromi mumbles as he pumps even faster.
“a-ahh!” you cry as you reach your high, walls clenching as you cum on your husband’s hand. He removes his fingers from you, moving to gently circle your clit as you come down from your orgasm.
You both stay there for a moment, your heavy breathing the only sound occupying the space, mingling with the gentle slosh of water against the porcelain tub. Hiromi’s arms wrapped securely around your waist, pulling you closer.
Slowly, he lifted you, the warm water swirling around you both as he maneuvered you to face him, settling you on his lap. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, your knees pressing against the cool sides of the tub.
You straddled Hiromi, your bodies now fully aligned, chest to chest. Your husband's dark, half-lidded eyes bore into yours, his expression a mixture of raw need and unspoken tenderness. He let his hands rest on your waist for a moment, thumbs tracing gentle circles against your damp skin as he took in the sight of you.
“I don’t know how I’ve stayed away from you for so long…” his voice breaking slightly as if the admission pained him.
Your breath hitched as you shifted slightly in his lap, feeling the tension between you intensify. Hiromi’s hands slid up your sides, his touch deliberate and slow, leaving a trail of heat in their wake as his lips finally found yours. The kiss was deep, full of hunger that had been simmering between you both for far too long.
His grip on your waist tightened as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours in a dance that left you dizzy with need.
Breaking the kiss, Hiromi leaned his forehead against yours, his breath coming in shallow gasps.
“I won’t make that mistake again.”
Without a word, he rose from the tub, lifting you effortlessly into his arms. Water cascaded down your bodies, pooling at your feet as he carried you toward the bedroom, his lips trailing wet kisses down the side of your neck.
He laid you gently onto the bed, your back sinking into the soft silken sheets, but Hiromi didn’t waste any time. His gaze darkening as he climbed over you, his body hovering just above yours, his eyes drinking you in like a man starved.
“I’m going to make up for every second I’ve missed.”
#kbwrites#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk fanfic#jjk x reader#higuruma hiromi#higuruma x reader#higuruma smut#jjk smut#jjk higuruma#hiromi x reader#hiromi x y/n
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thank u for your advice clari about my paper and my professor. i actually did end up emailing him the night it was due (so yesterday lol) just telling him it was gonna be late bc of new issues. i didn’t mention an extension or a late penalty bc honestly that was less important to me than his opinion of me as a student and a peer. he was very nice and asked for me to check in and although i did have a mini meltdown 😭😭 i finished the paper and turned it in today and i saw him at a school event and we talked and it was very normal and fun still and he said he wanted to keep in contact as we both move on from my school (im graduating lol) so thank u 😭😭 it’s so funny that u had a similar experience bc i was worried about my concerns sounding silly so thank u for sharing :)) you’re right one paper doesn’t determine my worth and reaching out is so much more rewarding than internalizing stuff and shutting down 🫶🏼 ty ty
aw i am so proud of you bb!!! that’s so awesome, i hope you feel proud of yourself as well, for being brave and pushing through the fear!!! <3 no oh my gosh i would never ever think your concerns are silly!! i completely understand valuing your school, your work, your education and the esteemed opinion of people who matter to you!!! listen, you want to hear silly??? i had a full breakdown over getting a 75 on an assignment in my third year of uni LMAOOO (i wish i was exaggerating) >.<
oh my gosh!!!!!! star anon!!!!!!! please i am tearing up it is such a treat to hear from you again (despite the circumstances!)!! ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ you will always hold an extra special place in my heart, because you were my first named anon ever. you have been here since the very start—thank you so much for sticking with me, even if it’s just dropping by to occasionally check on me!!! that means the whole world to me, and i am so happy to have you by my side <3 i love u sm!!!!
#this blog holds such a special place in my heart so!!!#and you know i just genuinely love writing so so so much#and being able to share my work with everyone <33 and offer people some entertainment or fun or comfort through my work!!!#aaaah i'm getting SO sappy waaaah >.<#ily ily ily#i hope your weekend is going well!!! <33#go drink some water for me okay? <3#star anon#clari gets mail#star.anon#i can't remember which tag i used hahaha
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Playing the sims 2 without mods for the first time since I was about 13 maybe and it’s soooo fun I’ve been at it for about 40 minutes and my sim is already about to fuck a witch
#googling whether fucking a witch will cause corruption#what a life#what a game#every sims game is made out of a ball of string#but the sims 2 is really peak entertainment#truly a classic#I used to spend all of my weekends curled up in bed playing this#like this is fr one of my favourite sims games I think#sims 4 you are dust#you are nothing compared to her!!!!
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❝ 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐔𝐏 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔 !! ❞
❝ WHEN YOUR EX HUSBAND FINDS OUT YOU'RE DATING AGAIN, HOW DO YOU END UP FUCKING HIM IN YOUR BED ?? ❞
✧ pairing: ex-husband!satoru gojo x f!reader
✧ summary: satoru gojo is the man everyone wants, except you -- well you married him and you wanted him, but when he pushed you away after you had your daughter, you had no choice but to divorce him. so what happens when he comes to pick up your daughter for his weekend, and he finds you ready for a date? and how is it you always end up under him?
✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, so much smut, exes to lovers, modern au! (no curses), gojo is a CEO of a company, gojo has a daughter with you, divorced, some angst, switch! gojo, nipple play, oral (f + m), fingering (f! receiving), handjob (m! receiving), semi public sex (near entryway), semi exhibitionism, sex (p in v), creampie, swearing,
✧ wc: 8,271
“You were supposed to be here at 6:00 PM,”
Satoru Gojo stood in your doorway, as opposed to splashed on the covers of magazines and countless front page articles — you would think it would be business magazines, but you would only be partially correct — he made the covers of business, fashion, health, entertainment, and even a few women’s magazines.
And what every single one had made apparent in their colorful print was that Satoru Gojo was anyone’s ideal man — the CEO of the wildly successful Six Eyes Corp, a philanthropist in his free time spent mentoring children and teenagers through establishing proper programs, and he was flawlessly beautiful — ocean blue eyes you could drown in, porcelain skin seemingly without a blemish or scar, and pretty lips that were a weapon when curled in a smirk.
Just as they were now.
“Well,” he smirks, leaning against your door frame, “I’m sure it’s 6:00 PM somewhere,”
“Well, I’m not concerned with somewhere else since you daughter exists here, not elsewhere,” your words lacked their usual bite, only tinged with annoyance rather than cutting anger, “but good thing I told you to be here an hour and half earlier than I needed you,”
Needed him as just as you did before you had divorced — just as you asked him to be. But he only grew more distant by the day — and soon he was already out the door when you had served him with divorce papers.
And now, you can almost forget how it used to be — your eyes catch sight of the picture on your mantle of the two of you with your daughter, Satoru’s lips pressed to your cheeks as yours were pressed to your little angel — almost.
He gapes at you as you walk inside, as he follows behind you, the click of the door closing overshadowed by the sound of his voice.
“How could you lie to me, sweetheart? Thought we had a bond of trust,” you don’t have to look back at him to know he has a pout on his lips that would quickly melt into a grin if you conceded.
“Bond of trust ended when you showed up two hours late to pick up our daughter,” and he grumbles, cheeks tinged with pink.
“That was one time! I’m never that late. And it’s only on a Fridays when I have—“
“Meetings all day,” you finish with a sigh, “I know, Gojo, I know it’s not on purpose — but I know you’re always late on Fridays so I found a solution,” your lips curl, “anyway, our girl is napping still, so give her a bit before you wake her, but you can stay here until she does,” you’re shrugging off your bathrobe, littered with flecks of makeup, only to have a gorgeous black dress underneath.
One that he very much hadn’t seen before — and he would know, he’s explored every centimeter very intimately of each one of your dresses, but this is new. His eyes skim down the exposed skin of your thighs — very new, but very familiar.
He’s running fingers through his hair, not bothering to hide how his gaze rakes over his body, “Special occasion? Don’t tell me your birthday suddenly moved months, or I forgot our anniversary,”
You scoff, as you pick out earrings from your jewelry box, “Does an anniversary count when you’re divorced?” you can’t hide the hint of bitterness in your voice, and he’s stepping closer as you look in your vanity to put your earrings on, only to meet his gaze in the mirror, deep blue sucking you in as it always does.
“But you’ll always be mine,” and you roll your eyes, expecting a cheeky grin, but find genuine longing in his expression, before it's hidden away behind a frown, “but you still haven’t told me where you’re going, sweetheart,”
A sigh stuck in your throat, ignoring the use of your usual pet name that he had lost the rights when the ink dried on your divorce, as your teeth graze your bottom lip, “I have a date tonight,”
He tilts his head, “A date?” and you can already hear it in his voice — ice creeping over usually still waters, “who’s the lucky guy? And do I get to meet him?”
“And have you scare him off?” And he only grins in reply, hands slipping into his pockets.
“If he’s intimidated by me, isn’t that more on him than me, sweetheart?” His footsteps only grow closer, as you turn to look at him, his hand on the wood of your vanity, nearly caging you in on side, “after all, he may be your date, but I’ll always be your husband, and the father of our daughter,”
You didn’t know whether you wanted to kiss him or slap him — slapping him was self explanatory, but the want to kiss him was a lingering feeling, one that you couldn’t shed — no matter how much time passed. But that was the thing about Satoru Gojo — it was easy to fall in love with him, but even harder to fall out.
And a part of you could never admit to yourself that you never did.
No matter how hard you try.
“You haven’t been my husband for a year and half now, Gojo — a year legally now,”
And he’s changing tactics, “You still haven’t answered my question, who are you going on a date with?” And you already can feel the beginning of a headache throbbing in your forehead, and you know why no one could say no to Satoru Gojo — because you’re sure he’s never understood it.
“Why do you need to know?” And he's tilting his head, a small scoff parting his lips.
“I need to know who you're potentially bringing home, don’t I?” and he’s far too close, and you don’t know why you’re not pulling away — his breath warming your skin, as he drags a finger down your cheek, “The man who might step foot in our home, might meet our daughter,” and his thumb brushes over your lips, “might kiss my wife—“
“Gojo—“
“Satoru,” he corrects you.
You rub at your temples — yup, you definitely have a headache now. You brush past him, heading to the living room to pick up some of the mess, hoping your ex would somehow fall and hit his head on the doorframe and forget this conversation.
“And this dress?” Ah, no such luck, “did you buy it for the date?”
“Do you keep a catalog of my wardrobe?” you scowl as you pick up the strewn about toys and things to collect into your daughter’s toy bin, and he’s bending down too to pick up your daughter’s things in his hundred thousand yen suit.
“So you didn’t deny it,” and you sigh again, but grit your teeth all the same, his sharp words finely grating on your nerves.
“This isn’t a business negotiation, you don’t win just because you use my words against me,” you stand up after picking up the last of the things, “yes it’s a new dress, and yes I bought it for the date since this is my first date in years, happy?”
“Thrilled,” he says flatly, and you know it’s not the end of the discussion, “remember our first date?”
And how could you forget? But you decide to humor him, if only for a break from the interrogation.
“Which one? Because one was a date, and the other—“
He raises an eyebrow, “It was a date too, I asked you out—“
“You asked me to hang out—“
“And we kissed—“
“Only because I told you how I felt first—“ and he smirks again and you know you’ve dug yourself into a hole, cheeks burning at his stupidly smug face, “shut up,”
“And what did you say again?” He slips the things you have in your hands into the toy box, his fingers brushing yours, and his touch is the same as you remember, even the barest brush was enough for your traitorous soul to yearn for more.
“You know what I said,” his lips curl, the same smile he had given you all those years ago that made you fall for him in the first place, but his raise of his brow tells you he’s not going to let it go until you say it, “I told you that I liked you for a long time, and I was tired of waiting for you to make the first move. Because maybe by then it would be too late,” and his fingers brush against your cheek, featherlight — just as the bunches of butterflies that bloom in your stomach.
“And you say that wasn’t a date,” and you scoff, biting back the small smile on your lips, “will any other first date compare to that?”
“Gojo—“
“Satoru,” he corrects, and you know his brow is furrowed without having to look at him, “do you have to call me by my last name—“
“I do, because Satoru was my husband, and Gojo is my ex—“
“I’m still your husband—“ and you give a bitter chuckle.
“In what world? We’re divorced, it’s over,“
“It doesn’t have to be,”
“But it does. This isn’t me confessing to you on a movie night curled up on my twin bed. This is my ex-husband asking me to give him another chance far too late,” you slip past him, but he follows behind anyway, as you stand near the entryway to your home, “it’s time to move on,” and you’re stepping from your bedroom and only reach the doorway when he speaks.
“How can I move on when I never wanted to?” You still yourself in your tracks, fingers curling into a fist.
Not this right now. Not now. “Gojo—“ you sigh.
You’re so tired. You were hoping you wouldn’t have to have this conversation. You never had expected to have this conversation, not when you wanted to only marry one man your entire life was the one to break your heart.
“It's almost two years too late for this conversation,” you willed your voice not to break — not when your heart was long broken by him, and you wouldn’t allow him to do it again, “you should have had it with me before I filed. When I asked you to spend your time with us, when I asked you to take time off, when I asked you to be present in our lives—“
“Sweetheart-“ and you snap.
“Don’t call me that,” your quiet words hang in the silence, the wedding bells he heard in his head were nothing more than the sounds of bells drowning out the mourners screams, “don’t call me that when you don’t get to anymore,”
“I’ll always be yours, sweetheart, a few papers don’t change that,” and he’s stepping towards you, but you’re rooted to your spot, and you want to say it’s stubbornness, but you know what it really is —weakness, because Satoru Gojo was your one and only weakness. And even now, walls raised and erected against him came tumbling down with one touch.
Because he knew exactly where to touch and what to say.
“Do you think any other man could please you the way I can? I know every place, every sound, every inch of you — inside and out,” he’s nearly against your back now, “are you going to let a stranger do that? Let them learn how to please you, but knowing your husband knows how to do it better,”
“Ex-husband,” and he’s leaning down to press a kiss to your bare shoulder, “we shouldn’t—“
“And yet you’re letting me,” his nose brushes against the soft skin of your neck, warm breath sending a shiver down to the tips of your toes, and his words sending a wave of need right to your core, “because you know it’s true,” his hands tentatively brush against your hips and when you don’t resist, he squeezes, drawing a gasp from you, lips curled in a smirk, “more sensitive than usual, Princess? Been too long?”
“I swear to god—“ he’s cutting you off with a bruising kiss, a rubber band snapping back against your skin, and now it’s taut against you, ensnaring you in its grasp. And yet, his kiss is so sweet, affection dripping from the slide of lips to the caress of his fingers against your cheek, and it reminds you of just why you don’t want to let go.
“You don’t have to swear yourself to me, but I’d appreciate it, Princess,” and his mouth reminds you of the reason you (and that you don’t).
“Gojo—“ and he’s placing more kisses along your jaw now.
“Shouldn’t you at least call me Satoru now that we’ve kissed?”
“You’re impossible—“
“And yet I’m here,” his teeth nibbles at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, tongue flicking over the blooming love bite, “almost forgot how sweet you taste,” he’s humming, as he kisses along your shoulder before he toys with the strap of your dress, “almost,” his large palms slide down your body, skimming your bare thighs as he’s pressing you against the walls, “but your skin isn’t what I want to taste,”
You gasp, “we can’t—“ but why were you letting him? Irritation overrode by lust, and he knew the spots to make you bend to him, his hands squeezing your hips, “fuck you,” you wonder if his touch are phantoms engraved against your skin and muscles, forced to repeat the same patterns again and again — and a hand slides back up to cup your cheek.
“That’s what I’m trying to do, sweetheart,” his lips find yours again, his tongue dragging against the seam of your lips, before slipping inside. His hand is lifting your thigh around his waist, as his lips part from your own, eyes raking over your pretty, bitten red lips, “do you know how much I missed you?”
“No, I don’t,” and his smile slips from his lips, as he cups your chin, “Satoru—“
“Even all the days I was gone, there wasn’t a second I didn’t think of you,” you waver a moment at the sadness rippling through his gaze, “I know I wasn’t there—“ his lips press a kiss to your forehead.
“Why weren’t you?”
And that’s when there’s a knock at the door that makes your heads snap over to stare at the door a good four or five feet from you, the shadow of feet visible through the crack at the bottom of the door, and you were sure it was your date.
“Fuck,” you whsiper under your breath, “you have to go—“ your palms pressed flat against his chest, but Satoru doesn’t budge, “please, I have to get the—“
And his hand is slipping up and under your dress, hiking the material higher, “do you really want to go on your date like this, sweetheart?” His fingers graze your soaked panties, a gasp pulled from your lips, lithe fingers rubbing and pinching your clit through the thin fabric, “gonna go see him when you’re this wet?”
“Please—“ and his fingers snap the elastic of your underwear against your skin, drawing a squeal from your mouth, “fuck—“
“Any louder, Princess, and he might hear us,” he’s leaning down to press his forehead to yours, forcing your gaze to meet yours, “but maybe I should let him, let him know who’s the only one who can make you feel this good,” his words only make your cunt flutter, as if your body was in agreement, even if your mind was still in denial, “you’re much more honest down here, Princess, but you always were,”
Another knock as your attention is being tugged only for him to yank it back as his finger slips inside you. You’re burying your face in the crook of his neck to stifle your moans — his fingers were so much longer than yours, reaching places you could only have dreamed of — when you had dreamed of him.
His finger squelches as he fucks you open, walls squeezing around him as your molten insides cling to his touch desperately. Small whines and pants are muffled against your hand as you clamp it over, your phone vibrating uselessly with your date’s messages inside your purse.
“Please, Satoru let me—“ and he’s ripping your underwear, as he’s forcing your dress higher, “I have to tell him—“
“Tell him what?” His eyes are nearly glowing in the dim light of the fluorescents leaking in from the living room, “tell him you’d go on your date with him but you’re too busy being finger fucked by your husband?” And he’s sinking another finger into you, making your head loll back against the wall, “tell him that you’d let him fuck you in our bed, but you’re too busy letting me?”
“Sa-toru—“ you’re biting back your whines, glancing at the door, but he’s forcing your gaze back to him, his thumb pressed against your chin, “just let me—“
And he’s turning you in front of the mirror near the entryway, forcing you to look at yourself — your lips kiss bitten and ruined, your dress hiked up and mussed, and underwear tugged down to your ankles.
“Do you want him to see you like this?” His breath is hot in your ear, a soft murmur that makes your knees nearly buckle, “want him to see you how much of a mess I’ve made you?” His fingers sink into you again, a third finger with the other two. The lewd squelch of your cunt rings in your ears, your eyes catching sight of your own moans and pants in the mirror, your walls squeezing around them, “I’m the only one who gets to see you like this, sweetheart, and now you can watch too,” he’s guiding your gaze back to watch yourself, watching him knuckle deep in your sweet cunt, “gonna make you watch your tight pussy break my fingers,” he spreads his fingers inside you, letting you watch your slice drip down his fingers and wrist and splatter on the floor.
And your head falls back against his shoulder — he’s thrusting into you faster, your walls working deeper and deeper into you — fingers curling against your molten insides, until he’s finding that one spot that has your lips falling open, “I’m so—” your voice is a broken whisper, and he’s pressing a kiss to your jaw, “Please—“
“Cum f’me baby,” his thumb rubs at your clit, and you do, walls clamping down as you cum, his fingers relentless as they fuck you through your orgasm, a wordless moan of his name on your lips. He’s holding you up as he does, your body buckling under the pleasure, blood roaring in your ears that slowly ebbs away, as his fingers slow, and you’re shuddering under his touch, “good girl,” and your walls flutter as he pulls out as if they want him to stay, and he’s tilting your gaze, “watch,” your eyes open reluctantly, a small moan on your lips as you watch him carefully each one of his fingers clean, pink tongue darting out to lick at the trails of your juices that had dripped down his palm and wrist, “still the sweetest thing I’ve had, princess,”
And there’s another knock, as he clicks his tongue, “Doesn’t give up does he?” and he’s pressing a kiss to your neck, “must have really done a number on him and he’s willing to wait this long for you, huh?” he hums, nuzzling the hollow of your throat, “but I can relate. So, should I let him down for you?”
Your eyes fly open, meeting his cheeky gaze with a glare, “Don’t you fucking dare,”
“What? You still want to go out with him? Be my guest, but,” and he’s pulling at your ruined underwear until they rip under his touch, “can’t wear these, can you?” you gape at him as he pockets the ruined panties with a shit eating grin, “for later,” and you’re scoffing, and you hear a call of your name through the door.
And you take a better look at yourself — completely disheveled and marked up along your neck from his kisses and nips, your skin shiny with a sheen of sweat, and your lips obviously bruised and bitten from his treatment.
“Fuck,” you can’t go out like this — it looks as if you’d spent the morning before getting ravished, panic sets in as you hear his voice through the door.
“Want me to send him on his way?” Satoru’s hands curl around your waist, “our angel’s still fast asleep, and that means we can spend some time together—“
“Fuck off,” you hiss, walking over to the door, “Atsuya, I’m sorry I can’t go out today. I’m not feeling well,”
“Eh? Are you okay? Do you need anything?” And Satoru steps forward to speak but you cover his mouth with his hand.
“No, I’m fine, but I have the flu and I’m still contagious, so I don’t want to get you—“ Satoru drags his tongue between your fingers — this fucker, “sick,”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay and take care of you?” Satoru’s hands are dragging over your sides, squeezing your far too sensitive hips.
“Hear that?” Satoru’s whispering to you between the gaps of your fingers, “He wants to take care of you. Should you let him? Maybe he could fuck you better in the home we bought together and in the bed we shared,”
“No, I’m fine, really, I-I—“ and Satoru’s sucking at your finger, tongue curling around the digit, and you grit your teeth, “I’m going to rest. I’ll text you later, I’m sorry—“ and you don’t get to hear the rest of what he says, as Satoru’s pulling your hand away, and finding your lips in another kiss.
You hate how good this man is at kissing, his lips and touch must have the ability to leech sense from your brain, and leave lust in its place.
“What’s wrong with you?” you mumble against his lips, as his lips burn a trail of kisses down your jaw, a smirk against your skin.
“Nothing’s wrong with me, except that I love you,” he’s pouting again, “you think that guy could please you the way I could?”
“No, but maybe he would actually be there,” you bite back and his kisses pause, smirk slipping into a frown.
“I know I’ve made mistakes—“
You give a bitter chuckle, “Mistakes? You left us,”
He opens and closes his mouth, “you’re right I did, and I’m sorry,” his words are slow, but so is the anger building inside you, “but I’m asking for a second chance, begging for one more chance—“
You finally turn to face him, and you can only hope the tears welling in your eyes weren’t noticeable, “You don’t get to beg, when I already did,” your voice finally breaks, as your clenched fist shakes, “where were you? After our daughter was born, you were gone. You kept saying you would make time for us, you would be there for us, but you just busier and busier, and the only time I’d see you were the nights you made it home to crawl into bed,”
“I—“
“No, I’m tired, I’m tired of waiting and being upset, I’m so done—“ and he’s pulling you into his arms, and the familiarity of his grasp is nearly enough for your defenses to crumble, but you can’t, “Satoru”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I know I did wrong. I know I don’t deserve you or our baby, not after all I did,” he’s murmuring, “but it was never because of you or her,”
Tears spill from your eyes, streaming down your cheeks, “I used to cry, thinking that not only that I wasn’t enough, but your daughter wasn’t enough either—“
“You weren’t the ones that wasn’t enough,” he cuts you off, “I am,” the last words come out a whisper, as he runs fingers through his hair, “I’m the one who wasn’t good enough,”
You stare at him, “What do you mean?”
He’s scrubbing a hand down his face, “I don’t know how to be a husband, much less a father. I didn’t think I even wanted to be either, until I met you,” his voice softens, “and then I wanted it all if it was with you,”
“Satoru—“ and he’s shaking his head.
“I thought I could handle it — but when I saw you two — the two most important people in my life — how much you were counting on me, how much you needed me to not fail — I threw myself into work,” he’s swallowing, “I thought if I could support you both, things would get better. But it only made things worse because I pushed myself away,”
“Why?”
“Because I thought I’d mess it up — I don’t know how to be a father. I didn’t even know I wanted to be a husband until we got married,” and you swallow, “I thought I never would after watching my dad neglect and abuse me and my mom,” you knit your brow together, “and there were so many nights when you were sleeping, I got so frustrated with our angel. She wouldn’t sleep, she screamed for hours, and I just felt like I had failed her. And I would just fail you too,” he scrubbed a hand down his face, “so—“
“So you ran away,” you finish, voice caught in your throat.
He gives a curt nod, “And when you filed, I knew it was coming, but I thought you both would be better off. I thought even if I was miserable, it would be worth it to see you two happy—“
“Satoru, do you think I would be happy without my husband?” Your sigh stuck in your throat as your fingers find his cheek, featherlight, but he crumbles and melts against it, as if he was a statue made to wait for your touch, “you’re nothing like your father. I see you with Satomi, I see how much you love her — you dote on her, you know what she likes — she gets a cut and you’re panicking,” you chuckle as he huffs, a cute blush settling over his cheeks, “and you were a good husband, when you talked to me and didn’t run away,”
“I know,” and the question unspoken hangs in the air, “can I be again? Your husband,” and your instinct is to pull him into your arms, where you wanted him to be, where you always wanted to be, but your instinct is tangled in fear, barbed wire dragging you down and digging into your skin.
“I want you to be,” his eyes light up, hope flicking across his gaze like a comet tail, until it burns out with your next words, “but I’m scared,” you swallow, arms crossed, hoping if you physically hold yourself maybe you could hold yourself together, “I don’t want to get hurt again,”
“I won’t, I promise,” he’s cupping your cheek again, and you find yourself leaning into his touch, “every night I only thought of you and Satomi — there’s no one else that matters,” he’s drawing closer again, it makes you want nothing more than his touch again — it had been too long — too long without him.
And your lips find his again, it’s a chaste kiss at first, a breath shared a centimeter apart, as his eyes find yours, brow furrowed, “We have a lot to talk about,” you murmur, as your lips graze his again, and he’s chasing your lips, “but it’s going to take time,” God, you want to kiss his knowing pout away, as you drag a thumb down his lips, “a lot of making up to me and our angel,” He’s nodding obediently, a complete puppy under your touch, as he shivers as your fingers run through his hair before tugging, “are you ready for that?”
“Yes, baby,” he’s biting his lip, fingers twitching wanting to touch you.
Your lips curl, “Good boy.”
“All that big talk and now look at you, Toru,” Satoru’s white knuckled fingers fisted at the sheets of your shared bed, as your own fingers teased the head of his leaking cock through his boxers, “such a mess for me,”
You kneel at the foot of your bed, settled between his thighs, and though you were on your knees, you were the one who held the power. Fingers tracing the trigger right within your grasp, his cock twitching against your hand.
“Please, sweetheart, fuck,” he’s hissing when your lips lean down to press a kiss to his clothes weeping slit, the wet heat of your mouth seeps through, making him twitch against your touch — a spark of need that burns against his skin and boils his blood underneath with need, “please, don’t tease me,”
“Well that’s not fair,” you hum, as your fingers toy with the elastic of his boxers, snapping the elastic against your skin, sending a shiver up his body along with an ache that reaches his bones — and he wondered how he had let your grip on him grow this deep — and how he had ever let it go when it felt this good, “when you’re being teased I’m supposed to relent, even though you made me cum downstairs in my entryway?”
And he’s swallowing thickly, Adam’s apple bobbing just as anticipatory as the rest of his body, a bow string drawn tight just waiting for you to release it. But you wished to toy with the arrow more.
“I have half a mind to make you clean my cum off the floor with your tongue,” you click your own tongue as a taunt, but that only makes him squirm, “but maybe I’ll spare you since you’re being so good for me,” you’re dragging your fingers down his boxers, freeing his cock— already far too hard, flushed and dripping with precum as it slaps against his stomach, the flared head nearly begging you to touch it, “tell me what you want,” his cock is far too gorgeous, you thought that from the first time you saw it — long and curved, and the veins that ran along it were so pretty— just like the man himself.
And a whimper escapes his lips, “sweetheart, please, touch me—“
“With what?” you thumb his tip lightly, smearing the cum down his shaft, “my fingers? Or my mouth,” and your lips lick the pre that clings to your thumb clean, dragging your thumb down the flat of your tongue.
“Y-Your mouth,” and you’re smiling, your lips curling as his pretty gaze pleads with you, “please,”
“Imagine your subordinates saw you like this, begging your ex-wife to blow you, nearly ready to blow your load already just from fingering me,” your fingers toy with his balls, while you leans down to trace the tip of his tongue up the bottom of his cock, “what do you think they’d say?” And your lips part to let his engorged tip enter, as his head falls back with a groan, the wet and warm mouth, as you start to bob your head up and down his length.
“Fuuuuck, pretty,” and you’re pausing as you wait for a reply to your question, his own tongue tying itself in knots, “think I’m down bad for my wife,” he’s grunting, the words ‘my wife’ and his groans sending white hot arousal to your needy cunt, “think I’d let her fuck me anyway she wants and they would be right, sweets. I’d let you use me,” your tongue is wrapped around his length, as his dick sinks deeper into your mouth, nose brushing against his pubes, his hips held taut as he forces himself not to face fuck you.
And his eyes flutter down to meet yours, only to find your eyes drowning in lust, molten with need that nearly burned him with want, lips sloppy and dripping with a mix of precum and your spit out of the corners of your mouth, and your fingers —buried deep in your cunt as you sucked him off.
Fuck.
With the nasty way you slurped at his length, the noise ringing in his ear as your fingers begin to squeeze and stroke his balls, he wasn’t going to last much longer. His hips bucked against your mouth, and he’s muttering apologies but you let him, moaning as his tip hits the back of your throat.
“I’m close—where—“ and you’re sucking hard, tongue flicking against his slit and when he fucks your mouth once, twice — he’s gone. He’s cumming down your throat, hot spurts of cum painting your lips and mouth, his head falls back, fingers gripping the sheets as his eyes flutter open. And he watches you pull away from his cock, sticky strings of cum and saliva connecting you to his length still, “fuck, sweetheart,” his softening dick already twitching at the sight of you — your pretty tongue darting out to lick his cum from your lips.
“You taste as good as I remember, Toru — always so sweet,” and you’re pulling your own fingers from inside your tight pussy, and he snaps.
You’re on your back on the bed now, flopped down against the mattress as his hand closes around your wrist of the hand that was just inside you. Your words are lodged in your throat but come out a shiver when he brings your soaked fingers to his lips, he kisses each one before sucking and licking them clean.
“Toru—“ and he pulls away from the last finger with a pop, eyes clouded with need, “I—“
“And you say I taste good?” he’s humming, as he leans over you, “wait until you taste yourself, Princess,” and his mouth is insistent on giving you an entire course of your taste on his tongue, mapping out a detailed cartography of very crook and crevice of your mouth, “aren’t you so much sweeter?” He’s pulling away from your bitten red lips, spit connecting your lips still, “and that taste is all mine, just like you, wifey,”
The pet name sends a fresh wave of desire coursing through your veins, stoking the burning need already threatening to consume you both, “Toru—“ and he’s already stripping your dress away, pulled away up and over your head, thrown away like every thought of why this was a bad idea. Your nipples perk in the cool air of your bedroom and under his hot gaze, standing at attention as if they’re begging for his attention. And he’s more than happy to oblige.
His fingers toy with the buds, rolling between your forefinger and thumb, until he’s bending down to take one in his mouth, and you’re arching into his touch, your fingers finding purchase on his shoulders.
“Bet Atsuya would love to see you like this, huh?” He’s switching to the other side, teeth dragging against your nipple to draw a gasp from your lips, “Would love to see you such a mess like this, spread out and needy,” and he’s spreading you with warm palms, his half hard cock brushing against your thigh, “Were you gonna let him fuck you on this bed? Our bed?”
He doesn’t allow you an answer as his fingers spread your dripping walls, “Gonna let him taste you like this?” His lips warm your fluttering pussy, nearly begging for his touch and to swallow you whole, “when I already said this pretty cunt was mine,” he clicks his tongue far too close, making you whine, “g’nna have to answer my question first, Princess,”
“No, I wouldn’t,” and he presses a chaste kiss to your dripping pussy, making you whimper, your walls spasming around nothing, “Toru,”
“Remember when we moved into this home?” his lips are teasing your inner thigh, teeth dragging against your hot skin, “we broke the bed in all night long,” he’s looking up through half lidded eyes, “think he could please you like that? Make you moan his name?”
And you’re growing desperate as his lips draw close to your clit, tongue dragging against it, only to pull away to your thighs again, “no, no, only you, Toru, please—“
“Only I what?” oh you know he’s goading you, but your want is drawn taut like a stringed instrument, tweaking your strings when you’re dying for him to play you — “c’mon sweetheart,”
“Only you make me feel this good — fuck, Toru, I swear to god—“ your head falls back into the pillow as his face buries itself in your cunt, his laugh vibrates against your walls, pleasure rising faster than smoke from a burning building. His fingers dig into your hips as he holds you in place now, settled between your legs.
“You swear to me what?” and you swear his god complex gets worse and worse, and the way you moaned with his head between your legs wasn’t helping, “sorry, Princess, I have my mouth full,” and his tongue as silver as his words were, parting your folds with ease, as his lips slurped at your folds messily.
Fuck, he was too good at it, and he knew it, smirk on his lips as the wet, nasty noises of his mouth wrapped around your cunt and your bordering pornographic moans filled the silence. Pleasure ribboned up your body, mixing with the sharpness of his fingers pressed against your plush thighs to keep you in place.
“Gonna make me cum before I even fuck you, Princess,” and you hear the telltale squelch of his hand around his weeping dick — the shudder of your groan making him moan all the same, “taste so fucking good, never gonna go a night without tasting you again,” he murmurs far too reverently with his tongue dipping back into your folds for more of your juices, “you know how many times I fucked my fist to the thought of eating you out again? Never gonna spend a second without burying myself in this cunt,”
“Toru, I’m close—“ and you are, greedy tongue flitting over your clit, his nose bumping against his folds, and the practiced ease of his touch — he knew just what to do to make you cum. And he did, his mouth closing around your clit, before sucking harshly.
You cum on his face, swallowing your slick with the thrust of a desert weary man, his eagerness apparent on his soaked face, as you finally came down your high. He doesn’t waste a drop, only pulling away with a pop when your orgasm ebbs away, licking his lips clean of your juices.
“Still dripping even after I licked you clean?” He clicks his tongue as he watches your slick soak the sheet, “gonna have to find another way, maybe you need something bigger,” he hums in fake contemplation, “what can we use?”
“I have some sex toys that might do the trick,” and he scoffs, as he kisses up your body, before pressing his hard erection against your thigh.
“Don’t think any toy you have compares to me,” and you’re gasping as he drags the head of his cock against your puffy clit, “nothing can fill you up like I can,” and he groans as he watches your releases mix, “just for that, g’nna make you beg for it,”
“Toru,” you’re whining, but he’s only teasing your entrance with the head of his dick, your walls fluttering, already begging for him to sink into you, but he’s waiting for your mouth to do the same, “please, fuck me, I need you inside—“
He grins, “Well how can I deny my pretty wife when she asks so nicely?” And he’s splitting you open with his thick cock, balls deep with only a thrust of his hips. Your hands are grasping at him for purchase, needing to hold onto him as his cock stretches your walls out. It’s as if you remember him, walls sliding to accommodate him as they always did, but clinging to him desperately, a grunt parting his lips, as if they never wanted him to leave again. And you didn’t.
“So fucking tight, Princess,” he’s groaning in your ear, a swallow roll of his hips drawing a chorus of moans from both of you, “don’t have to break my dick off to keep it — I’ll take you anytime you want,” and he’s pressing your thighs forward, slinging one over his shoulder, as he presses himself even deeper.
A whine leaves the back of your throat, “too deep, Toru,” and his cock twitches inside you at that, “fuck,” and it takes everything in him not to blow his load there and then,
“You love it when I fuck you like this, Princess, or do I have to remind you?” And he does, beginning to piston in and out, the lewd slaps of skin and moans filling the air of your bedroom, “be careful or our daughter might wake from the sounds of her mommy getting fucked,” he clicks his tongue, “maybe we should give her another sibling?” He’s watching the way your cunt eagerly welcomes his cock, sinking in and out with ease, “fuck another baby into you, hm? Would you like that princess?”
“Toru, ngh,” your walls flutter at the thought of a kid, of his seed filling you up, “please—more—“
He gives a chuckle, “I’ll give you everything, sweetheart — fuck you so full that you’ll be dripping with my seed for days,” he’s grunting, legs trembling as his thrusts grow more sloppy as his orgasm begins to build, “fuck, you feel so good for me, “gonna give you another baby, make sure everyone knows you’re mine, my wife—“
“G’nna cum, Toru,” you’re falling back against the mattress, as he bends down to press a messy kiss to your lips, all tongue and teeth, before his fingers reach down to rub at your clit. Your eyes finding his, face flushed a pretty pink, eyes shrouded in a deep lust that was reserved only for you, and as he bucks into you even deeper, he brushes against that spongy spot that has the taut string snapping as you fall apart.
“Cum on my cock, sweetheart,” he’s grunting, as he grazes teeth along your neck before biting. And you cum hard, toes curling as your mouth falls open with only moans of his name on your lips. The way your walls squeeze around him has him only rutting into you harder, deeper, messier — as he watches the ring of cum pool around the base of his cock, fucking you through your orgasm, “g’nna cum—“ and you’re pulling him into another kiss, legs wrapped around him as he falls over the edge with you. Hot cum spills in ropes inside your walls, his hips rolling as he does, if only to fuck his cum deeper inside you.
“Toru, s’good, I—“ you’re incoherent nearly under him, soft kisses pressed along your jaw as you both come down from your highs, cock softening inside you only him to pull out, another groan of your name on his lips when he watches his cum drip from inside you, staining your thighs along with the sheets.
And you whimper when he’s gathering his spilled cum on two fingers only to push it back inside, “can’t let you waste a drop, can we, sweetheart?”
He’s finally pulling away, his other hand cupping your cheek, as he finds your lips in a lazy but far too sweet kiss, “Toru,” you mumble, “I never stopped loving you, because I don’t think I ever could,”
His eyes grow glassy, his fingers finding the back of your neck, “I know nothing I’ll do will make up for what I did — to you and Satomi, but,” he presses his forehead to yours, “if you both let me, I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you,”
And tears burn at the corners of your eyes, “Just stay with us, and promise to never leave — that’s enough,” and your lips brush his, “you’re more than enough for us, Satoru,” and he kisses you again and again and again, nearly climbing on top of you again, when you both hear a tiny gasp from the door.
Your heads both snap over to your baby daughter leaning against the door, badly hidden behind it, as she pokes her head in, “did mommy and daddy make up?”
Your cheeks burn as you cover your face — you both had checked on Satomi before but she was fast asleep still, and now — you checked the time — 9:30 PM, you were sure she’d be up all night.
“Yes baby, mommy and daddy had some stuff to talk about,” Satoru grabs your robe for you, handing it over as he pulls his discarded boxers on under the sheets, “come here,” and she squeals as she runs into her daddy’s arms, Satoru scoops her up before pressing kisses all over her face, her giggles and his grin nearly too much for you.
“Now she’s gonna be up all night,” you murmur to Satoru, and he’s smiling.
“I can tire her out,” he grins, and then he adds with a whisper, “and then I’ll tire you out,” and you flush, shoving him playfully, “come on, my love, let’s go play for a while and let mama rest,” and he’s sliding out of bed, carrying her out of the bedroom, and you watch him, lying on your side, with a smile on your lips.
Maybe it wasn’t so bad having a husband — especially when it was Satoru Gojo.
Satoru lets you and Satomi sleep in the next morning, making a smoothie for himself, as he starts to prepare breakfast. He did tire you both out last night, especially you — and you did some exhausting of your own, his fingers running over the hickies you left all over his neck and collarbone with a slight hum. He tied your apron on himself, only boxers and a sleeveless tee on.
He started to crack eggs into a bowl with one hand. He wouldn’t make the same mistakes again — he meant what he said. He would make it up to you, or at least he would try — and he would spend the rest of his life treasuring you and his kid — and maybe another if you let him have his way, he thought, biting back a grin.
You had turned him down last night when he asked,
“Don’t you think it’s time we try for another one?” His arms are winding around you, half hard erection already pressing into you, as the two of you stood right outside your daughter’s doorway, watching the angel sleep, “we did do well with the first one,”
“Toru, we just got back together, we’re not having another kid,” and he’s already pouting, you know without looking at him, “but that would be nice — for our daughter to have a sibling,” and god, it made him to take right there (which he did), but he couldn’t wait until all three of you were ready. Because he wouldn’t dare to miss a second of it — never again.
And then a knock at the door pulls him from his thoughts, and his brow furrows. Who could it be this early?
He walks over, checking through the peephole, a grin growing on his lips, oh, perfect timing. Satoru opens the door, leaning against the doorframe, “Yes?”
Atsuya Kusakabe frowns, jaw nearly dropping as he attempts not to gape at Satoru Gojo standing in his date’s doorway, nearly dropping the bag of medicine and soup he had packed up for you, “Uh, sorry, I was looking for—“
“My wife?” He raises a brow, and Kusakabe’s face blanches, as Satoru only smiles with a shrug, “sorry I should say ex-wife, we did get a divorce,” and Kusakabe’s mouth opens and closes, “but you know, she never stopped being mine,”
Kusakabe clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck, “where is—“
“She’s sleeping still,” Satoru’s lips curl, as he sighs, “she wasn’t feeling well yesterday, but I think I made her feel better last night,” and he’s rubbing the back of his neck, movement drawing his attention to your marks littering his body.
A flush crawls up his neck and ears and he clears his throat, “I-I see,” he thrusts the bag into Satoru’s hands, “could you please give this to her and let her know—“ and he’s shaking his head, rubbing at his temples, “tell her whatever you want.”
And he’s gone, door slamming behind him, click of the lock. He holds the bag behind him, only to walk forward to see you peeking from the bedroom, his button up shirt thrown over your head, as you rub your eyes, “who was it?”
He only smiles at you, dropping the bag in the trash, “No one important,” and he’s finding his way to your side, arms winding around your waist, “I made us breakfast,”
“Oh really?” You hum, as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, pressing sweet kisses that only makes you sigh contently, “what’s the occasion?”
“Oh, just the first day of the rest of our lives, nothing too big,” he hums, and you laugh, his favorite noise that only makes him fall deeper in love with you, if that was even possible, “have to treat you right don’t I, wifey?”
“Yes, you do,” and your lips find his again, “my husband,” and the word sticks in his chest, a missing piece that fits right back into place, and fixes a hole that had been aching for far too long, “should we go wake up our daughter?”
He presses a kiss to your forehead, “Together.”
✧ a/n: so i didn't think i'd finish this week with being at my sister's and having a con this weekend but i found the time! i hope you enjoyed this one. this is my reality for gojo i'm living in :) fun fact, satomi and satoru both mean enlightenment! :)
✧ taglist: @jasminelee324 , @forest-hashira , @spider-fan72 ,, @rougebrainsludge , @theshylittleelfgirl , @ririchurl , @johannakhalafalla , @hanlay , @fawnlikelore , @vickkysthings , @dead-kats , @hantaslittlearsonist t , @being-me-is-not-a-sin , @augustwinesworld , @forest-fruits-jam , @kirashuu , @catsgomurp , @daddytojji , @notgoodforlife , @hyori2 , @shrimpy109 , @goddess-ofthe-godless , @i-spilt-ink-on-my-phone , @sunamatic , @rougebrainsludge , @redmangotango , , @psychxbby , @nakariabnrb , @mua-for-now @dazailover1900 , @alwaysfreakingout , @yamaguccitadashi , @equikaz , @gojosatorubrainrot
#sab [mlist]#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo fanfiction#satoru gojo smut#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru fanfiction#gojo x reader#gojo fanfiction#jjk x reader#jjk fanfiction#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction#gojo satoru smut#jjk x you#jjk fanfic#jjk gojo
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...after what she did last month she thought I'd answer her phone calls.
father's side of the family is really the fucking worst.
#'b-but you should tell me how i can help all of you 🥺' girl we're telling you already for literal years.#'b-but it's not my fault my brother is alcoholic and i'm drinking with him 🥺 '#'why are you so mean to me i just made another family quarrel because i was sad my brother and sister-in-law didn't entertain me during#my niece's birthday 🥺'#'if my mother doesn't give a fuck about you then it's fine but you have to stay in touch with her because we're family 🥺'#'oh i love you all so much and i want only the best for you so i'll do nothing helpful but proceed to slowly destroy everything#with my interference 🥺'#'it's not about me but i'll make it about me instead of helping 🥺'#she was the closest person to me in this family but now i can't even think about her without getting mad#i hope she won't come to us this weekend because 1) i don't want to talk with her#2) i'm so angry at her i'd say too much#3) most likely my father will be home and after her visit it'll just get even worse than it already is#pau.txt
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'GALECA, the Society of LGBTQ Entertainment Critics, has named “All of Us Strangers” as Film of the Year at its 2024 awards ceremony. It comes from filmmaker Andrew Haigh and tells a love story involving two young men, Adam (Andrew Scott) and his neighbor Harry (Paul Mescal).
“Twelve years ago, Andrew Haigh’s fresh and observant queer romance ‘Weekend’ ruled our Dorians as well,” the critics group’s president Walt Hickey said, “So the fact that ‘Strangers’ obviously touched many of our members’ hearts as well counts as sort of a sweet homecoming to our organization.”...
Film of the Year: All of Us Strangers (Searchlight)
LGBTQ Film of the Year: All of Us Strangers (Searchlight)
LGBTQ Screenplay of the Year: Andrew Haigh, All of Us Strangers (Searchlight)....'
#GALECA#All of Us Strangers#Andrew Haigh#Andrew Scott#Paul Mescal#The Society of LGBTQ Entertainment Critics#Weekend
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(piano) keys to your heart | charles leclerc social media au
pairing: charles leclerc x fem fan reader
who knew the fan stages could be so romantic?
MASTERLIST | TIP JAR
f1
liked by liamlawson30, yukitsunoda0511 and 1,340,667 others
tagged: charles_leclerc, georgerussell63, lewishamilton, oscarpiastri & landonorris
f1: it's always chaos at the fan stages
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user1: what is in the air today?
user2: i think it's so early in the season that they haven't lost the will to live yet
user3: there's still light in their eyes LMAO
lewishamilton: let me just say... that was an experience
georgerussell63: i wish all media commitments were this entertaining
lewishamilton: we can only pray
user4: wait i'm so lost what happened at this damn fan stage
user5: there was a girl with a baby toy piano who played one of charles' songs for him 😭
user6: and he was SO IMPRESSED
user7: he was impressed? I WAS IMPRESSED like it sounded so good and it has five keys that make ANIMAL NOISES
user8: aniMAL NOISES???
pierregasly: i think i watched that man fall in love in real time
charles_leclerc: are you not also enchanted?
pierregasly: by animal sounds? no?
charles_leclerc: so rude! you wouldn't know real art even if it hit you in the face
pierregasly: nuh uh !!!
user9: girlies i do think he might be in love what is going on?
user10: has he even spoken to her other than through hundreds of people on a microphone?
charles_leclerc: can a hopeless romantic live ?
user11: yeah it's terminal people
user12: well i'm not gonna lie if someone learnt my music on such an esteemed instrument i'd also be flattered
charles_leclerc: EXACTLYYYYYY
yourusername
liked by pierregasly, charles_leclerc and 12,309 others
yourusername: got to play a pretty boy piano this weekend, what about you?
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user15: PIANO WOMAN MY QUEEN
user16: you have a real piano?
yourusername: where do you think i honed my skills in order to play it on such a crazy model
yourbff: MAMA THERE'S 12,000 PEOPLE ON YOUR POST 💜
yourusername: act natural
yourbff: how can i ACT NATURAL BABE THE HOTTEST MAN IN THE WORLD IS IN YOUR LIKES
yourusername: as he should be
yourbff: i know for a fact you are not that chill rn ... i can hear you screaming from my house
yourusername: *harmonising
user17: we're all stalkers for being here but i'm pleasantly surprised with how funny she is
yourusername: damn ask me out on a date first
user18: so you are single queen?
yourusername: chronically so ...
charles_leclerc: i FOUND YOU
pierregasly: * i found you
oscarpiastri: not that i want the title of chief stalker but it was me (you have very niche mutual friends with my sisters)
yourusername: OMG OSCAR !!!!!!!!!!!! (tell hattie i said hi and take me to the next kpop concert)
charles_leclerc: so fuck me i guess
yourusername: i would love to fuck you, yes
charles_leclerc: oh hehehehehehehehehe
yourbff: for a man who is the sexiest in every room he's in, you're embarrassingly easy to please
lewishamilton: he's not the sexiest in every room, that is lewis hamilton erasure
yourbff: WHAT THE FUCK
user19: so is like all of the current f1 grid here?
maxverstappen1: i'm just here to watch charles embarrass himself
danielricciardo: i am retired but i must be interested in the exploits of my countrymen
pierregasly
liked by yukitsunoda0511, charles_leclerc and 885,489 others
tagged: charles_leclerc & kika.c.gomez
pierregasly: he's making us take a flight on our one week off
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user20: deadass if they're going to australia
user21: these are levels that i would actually completely expect from charles
user22: pierre and kika are better than me because a flight to AUSTRALIA oh no baby
maxverstappen1: well this is an update that SOMEONE (i'm talking about you pierre) forgot to put in the group chat
pierregasly: i'm kind of in the middle of a flight and sat to the nosiest motherfucker in the world
charles_leclerc: what group chat?
georgerussell63: nothing!
oscarpiastri: nothing!
landonorris: nothing!
alexalbon: nothing!
maxverstappen1: we're laughing about how down bad you are behind your back 👍
charles_leclerc: thanks max!
charles_leclerc: WAIT?
user23: oh charles how can you be so smart yet so dumb
user24: all brain power goes to f1 and piano
user25: and piano girl now apparently
yourbff: you're not being serious ....
pierregasly: deadly
yourusername: this is so charming
yourbff: this man is flying 24 HOURS TO SEE HER ???
yourusername: i'm not appreciating your tone rn
yourbff: oh no you're more than worth it pookie but DAMN the air miles
charles_leclerc: i chartered a private jet :D
yourbff: you're crazy
yourusername: i'm in love with you?
user26: guys i think they're just as insane as each other
user27: a match made in heaven i fear
liked by charles_leclerc & yourusername
yourusername
liked by yourbff, charles_leclerc and 41,298 others
tagged: charles_leclerc, pierregasly & kika.c.gomez
yourusername: guys there's a cute guy at my door (and a guy with a bad hairline but he doesn't matter (i love you kika))
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user29: chat - it's never been so over i fear
user30: we've lost him
yourusername: :P
user31: she's so unserious i love her
user32: i know every other wag wants to be this in our face so i respect it
charles_leclerc: i'm very happy to be the cute guy at your door
yourusername: you best be :)
charles_leclerc: i'm here to swipe you off your feet
yourusername: believe me you won't have to do much
charles_leclerc: i saw you have a proper piano ...
yourusername: you don't want to serenade me with my animal noise piano ???
user33: so like this is real? how did this actually happen?
user34: like surely they had met before this - it can't be the animal sounds piano of monaco that did it
user35: have you ever considered that maybe someone doing something as ridiculous but as time consuming as that is incredibly endearing
charles_leclerc: my love language is acts of service :)
pierregasly: i am sat in your living room and you're blasting my hairline on instagram?
yourusername: yes!
pierregasly: you know what? you two are perfect for each other
yourusername: i know :D
user36: oh to be a girl who has charles flying across the world for her
user37: if we get a video of them playing piano it might just kill me
maxverstappen1: interesting.... very interesting....
yourusername: can i help you?
maxverstappen1: just observing ....
yourusername: you're observing very loudly
charles_leclerc
liked by maxverstappen1, alexalbon and 1,894,300 others
tagged: yourusername
charles_leclerc: obviously we had to take the real piano for a drive
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user38: killing myself <3
user39: the most rational reaction
user40: THEY'RE SO FUCKING CUTE (i want to die)
yourusername: as if you needed to be any more handsome
charles_leclerc: i gotta match your beauty some how
yourusername: SHUT THE FUCK UP
yourusername: YOU'RE SO CUTE
yourusername: and also objectively the most beautiful man in the world
lewishamilton: once again, stop lying to him please 🙏
yourusername: okay queen..... whatever you wanna hear
user41: lewis not being in the GC but always being here to stunt on charles is killing me
user42: getting in the psychological warfare for next year
yourusername: lewis hamilton psychological warfare (immovable object) vs sleep deprived y/n y/ln (unstoppable force)
lewishamilton: YOU'VE KNOWN HIM MAX A WEEK ???
yourusername: there's no set timeline for love girlypop
maxverstappen1: piano? this is boring
yourusername: i would post me treating him the way he should but that would violate instagram's guidelines sorry!
charles_leclerc: no !!! i don't wanna share you with anyone
maxverstappen1: i don't wanna see all that anyway
charles_leclerc: don't lie buddy
yourusername: you're just intimidated :P
user43: couples who bully max together, stay together
maxverstappen1: it seems that way ...
yourusername: omg we're so couple goals
charles_leclerc: we so are <3333
user44: CONFIRMATION???
yourusername
liked by maxverstappen1, yourbff and 68,309 others
tagged: charles_leclerc
yourusername: guess i'm a recording artist now? oh and i have a bf, he's there i guess?
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user46: oh they want me dead
user47: ignoring this for my mental health
user48: they're 😭 so 😭 cute 😭 i'm 😭 so 😭 happy 😭 for 😭 you
charles_leclerc: no one i'd rather work with!! we've been in a whirlwinf but i'm glad i have you
yourusername: you have had the (piano) keys to my heart long before we met
charles_leclerc: i still had to charm you though ;)
yourusername: oh i was smitten straight away i was just trying to play it cool
pierregasly: you weren't very convincing
yourusername: i was ???
yourbff: the day you found out he was flying over to aus you did 20,000 steps just pacing in the living room
yourusername: well...
charles_leclerc: i found it very cute no worries
user49: they're so hilariously embarrassing for each other it's so cute
user50: i mean they're both insanely attractive so yeah i'd be just as nervous around them
user51: everyone is just hating on their whimsical love
arthurleclerc: so you're official and you've still not met us 🤨🤨🤨
yourusername: well............. i'm in aus what do you want me to do about that?
arthurleclerc: charles irresponsibly uses a private jet - i expect to see you for dinner this weekend ! (that's an order from maman)
yourusername: CHARLES I CAN'T LET YOUR MUM DOWN
maxverstappen1: does this mean i might get air max back in europe?
yourusername: you've been hating this whole time but it was YOUR JET THAT GOT CHARLES HERE?
maxverstappen1: and what?
yourusername: i'm just observing, loudly
charles_leclerc: he loves me really <3
yourusername: but not too much 🤨
charles_leclerc
liked by maxverstappen1, yourbff and 2,398,099 others
tagged: yourusername
charles_leclerc: i am never complaining about media again
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user52: so when i do an interpretative dance as a cat to seduce max then what?
maxverstappen1: if you dare do that anywhere near me i am getting a restraining order
user52: anyone tell you you're no fun?
maxverstappen1: all the time, i'm still not going to fuck someone dressed as a cat 👍
yourusername: loving you is the easiest thing in the world
charles_leclerc: the most natural thing in my life - we were made for each other
yourusername: forged by the gods for each other and they decided to give me the prettiest boy in the world
yourusername: @lewishamilton i dare you to say otherwise
charles_leclerc: she's so protective 🤭🤭🤭
roscoelovescoco: ...
yourusername: i'll still fight your dog i have no shame when it comes to defending my man
user53: see this ^^ is appropriate action for wags i too would fight a bull dog to defend charles' honour
yourusername: it's the least i can do
charles_leclerc: i will literally run someone over with my ferrari
yourusername: considering i've seen your road parking - that's a real threat, so romantic
pierregasly: so i really am stuck with this for the rest of my life?
yourusername: it doesn't have to be a long life
pierregasly: you're breaking up with charles ???
yourusername: i'm threatening your life 👍
pierregasly: oh!
charles_leclerc: so romantic
user54: childhood friends being thrown under the bus? this is real romance
user55: and this all started with an animal sounds piano?
yourusername: i owe my baby cousin everything
charles_leclerc: does she want a ferrari?
fin.
note: HAPPY CHARLES LECLERC BIRTHDAY DAY TO ALL WHO CELEBRATE
#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 instagram au#f1 x you#f1#f1 social media au#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc smau
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i think a lot about exactly 1 thing from the roman empire: the concept of bread and circus. the idea was that if your population was fed and entertained, they wouldn't revolt. you are asking us to give up our one small life, is the thing - for under 15 dollars an hour.
what would that buy, even. i am trading weekends and late nights and my back health. i am trading slow mornings and long walks and cortisol levels. i am trading sleep and silence and peace. for ... this. for what barely-covers-rent.
life really is more expensive right now. you aren't making that up. i make almost 3 times what i did 5 years ago, and despite an incredibly equal series of bills - i am still struggling. the most expensive line item i added was to own a dog. the money is just evaporating.
we were okay with it because it's a cost-benefit analysis. i could handle the customer harassment and standing all day and the manager's constantly changing temperament - i was coming home to hope, and my life planned in a blue envelope. three hours would buy me my dog's food for a month. i can give up three hours for him, for his shiny coat and wide, happy mouth. three days could be a new mattress, if i was thrifty. if i really scrimped and saved, we could maybe afford a trip into the city.
recently i cried in the car about the price of groceries.
business majors will be mad at me, but my most inflammatory opinion is that people should never be valued at the same place as products. your staff should not be a series of numbers in an excel sheet that you can just "replace" whenever you need something at that moment. your staff should be people, end of sentence.
it feels like someone somewhere is playing a very bad video game. like my life is a toy. like someone opened an app on their phone and hired me in diner dash ultra. they don't need to pay me well or treat me alright - they can always just show me the door. there is always someone more desperate, always someone more willing.
but i go to work and know i could save for years and not afford housing. i am never going to own my own home, most likely. i have no idea how to afford her ring, much less the wedding. my dog doesn't have his own yard. everything i love is on subscription. if i lose my job, i have no "nest egg" to catch my falling.
this thin life - they want me to give up summer for it. to open my mouth and throat and swallow the horrible hours and counted keystrokes. they want me to give up mountains and any non-federal holiday. to give up snow days. to give up talking to my mom whenever i want. to give up visiting the ocean and hearing the waves.
bread and circus worked for a while, actually. it was the kind of plan that would probably now be denounced by republicans as socialist commie liberal pronoun bullshit.
but sometimes i wonder if we should point them to the part of the history book that says: it worked until it didn't.
#spilled ink#warm up#writeblr#i have a good job please shut the fuck up before telling me to get a better job#girl i have vision and dental.#if u blame the victim that's wild. do u know about economic systems
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