#tumblr im begging you to put this in the main tags

[naamah-beherit]

I'm begging y'all, put at least minimum care into how you present your fics to the public.

"idk man you name it im tired" as a title tells me you didn't care.

"This is STUPID" in the tags. Okay, I won't read it then.

"I don't know how to do tags" tells me you didn't bother taking one look at any page in the archive to see how others tag and use it as reference. Or, you know, you could have asked, too.

"idk if this is trash, bc I worte this in the middle of the night bc idrk" in the summary doesn't really encourage me to open the story.

3 lines of tags on a 4k monitor, none of which are actual searchable tags but a stream of consciousness about the author's sleeping habits and music preferences, tell me you don't know what your story is about if you can't give us 2-4 main tropes and themes. Also, this isn't tumblr, come on mate.

"I hate myself for this fic" okay? Why did you write it then if it brought you discomfort? Moreover, why did you post it???

"Why Did I Write This?" well, hobbies are about joy and fun, if writing doesn't make you happy then maybe it's time to look for something else to do in your free time? No point in making yourself miserable.

"The Author Regrets Everything" paired with more self-deprecating tags suggest I better not bother opening the fic because it clearly made the author miserable and why would I be miserable as well?

"killing myself rn" please get help.

0 additional tags is better than that. Writing and sharing fics should be an act of care, not anguish.

[a-random-black-and-white-cat]

Please reblog and tag others. Im not one to reblog beg, but i would like to get as big a sample size as possible.

(Just ask in my and I'll untag you from this main post. Sorry to fill up your inbox)

(@rowan-e-ravenwood @eagledrawsandvibes @alicepooryorick @godofautism @greyhound-with-a-mega-wizard-hat @aninconvenientduck @the-curse-wizard @the-gnomish-bastard @stormin-norman @ineffag-swag @the-random-wizard-from-space

Sunshower for reference ⬇️

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

I'm begging you to put buttons on your fics babe 😭 I went to your master list to checkout Dirty Work (so good!) And made it to 18 in no time but then backspaced to your main blog to discover you were at 27! (Holy shit) but God knows the tags don't pull up any of the other chapters 🥺

It's kinda like I'm punching the party goers outta the way (asks and messages lmao) to pick up candy off the floor (MOVE YOUR ASS IM TRYING TO READ)

There's something insidiously delicious about how you always wrote Loki's emotional intelligence journey. Like here's a guy with shitty ingrained habits who's unraveling them because it's the only way to get what he wants AND because morals or whatever yeah mom. And then you always have characters like the father that display humanity's natural inclination to just be shitty and rot because achieving happiness is too hard and they're gunna make it everyone's problem! And also the unfairness of doing everything right but getting steamrolled!

Sif being that bitch that confirms every shitty fear about inadequacy Loki has ever had and will have will always be funny to me.

Also that watch debacle: 'I showed you my dick please respond'

Dude watches you talk shop with the gardener and he's immediately like 'controlling?? Babe I can't even control myself buy whatever you want for our house'

Anyways...gotta go find chapter 19. Love you! Wish me luck on my Radiology School entrance exam

I'm sorry but the masterlist was updated this morning so I'm not too certain what you mean. I won't add buttons because as it is, the little spare time I have is spent enjoying this as a hobby. I'm sorry that tumblr can be frustrating. I'm not going to change my formatting at this time. I apologise for the inconvenience but do appreciate you reading.

Good luck with your entrance exam. 🤞🏼

[m4ds-ba1ley]

“ Show me your hands ! “

Hi Tumblr!!!! Oh my gosh, Steph told me to get this app, and I am SO excited!!! Okay, what did she said I should start with..? OH! Right, the intro!!

My name is Madison!! Most people just call me Mads or Maddie, but really anything works ^^! I’m eighteen years old, and I go to Hatchetfield High! I’m bisexual, and I use she/they pronouns :) My older brother is a police officer at the Hatchetfield Police Department, and I volunteer there!! Sometimes as a cop, sometimes as a detective.. either way, it’s super fun!! You guys probably know my brother as Officer Bailey!! I’m SUPER into police stuff. I love true crime, and my dream since I was eight is to be a cop!! Although, I do really like the dance classes I take.. and Dance Moms. Me and Steph love watching that together!! Anywayssss I hope I can make lots of friends on here :) I was also told to answer questions? So if you have any, send them my way!!! I’m glad to talk ^^

OOC ;

HI!!!! Um, soo……. this is my oc!! Full name is Madison Bailey! IM SUPER EXCITED FOR THIS ROLEPLAY BLOG SHJASG PLEASE INTERACT I BEG 🙏🗣️ My main is @royall-ass in case you wanna know more about ME (i also post a lot of art on there and it would mean a lot if you interacted and reblogged…….)

When it comes to stuff I will and will not do, I’m practically up for anything! Unless it’s any of these ⬇️

Incest

Pedophilia

NSFT (I am a MINOR!!!)

If you do want to do a ship roleplay, I’m fine with kissing and stuff if that’s what you wanna do!!! However, I am not doing full on roleplay sex 😭

I’m up for shipping!!! Although, again, if it’s under any of this stuff, it’s automatic no

If you have any au’s you wanna do, please dm me or comment underneath any post with information!!! It makes it a lot easier than just jumping into it lol

There will be differences from interactions that are on Tumblr, over text/call, and in person!

Tumblr ; Just regular text!

Text/Call ; ‘ like this!! ‘

In person ; actions will be in plain italics, “and speaking in person will be in quotation marks” ^^

I will put my ooc comments in the tags!!

Other than that, stay safe, and have fun on this blog!!

dividers from @saradika-graphics

[jovenshires]

Hey the new Ianthony edit? Made me emo as fuck it really had me in my feels very cool.

I didn't see it on the 'smosh' tag? Idk if that's intentional thought you should know if it's not <3 -dot hell anon

TYSM i had so much fun making that one so im glad <3333

ah yeah... that was intentional. old habits die hard i guess? this got a little away from me so i put my extremely long rant under the cut, but tlwr: i try not to tag a lot of shipping stuff as /smosh.

see, i'm not new to the smosh fandom, but i am relatively new to THIS version of the fandom. i came back a couple of months ago but my real heyday was in like. 2018-2020. and we had pretty set rules for how we went about things, and one of the BIG ones was to never put anything ship-related in the main tags (those tags being cast names and the main smosh tag itself).

this was for a couple different reasons; first of all, some of the actual smosh staff was on tumblr (the official smosh blog for one, and i think one of the cast used tumblr at the time?? not sure on that one though as i Cannot remember), and we didn't want them to have to view rpf of themselves in spaces just generally meant for posting about them/their company. like say courtney, for example, goes into the 'courtney miller' tag - there's a difference between seeing a post about her bit in the new tntl and a post about them. fucking ian nasty style. not that there's anything wrong with the latter, just that i am very conscientious about not showing the real person fiction to the real person(s) in question, as was a lot of the smosh fandom.

second of all, not every smosh fan is into rpf. our venn diagram is not a circle. there was a time when i was not a part of the venn diagram. it's why i try to tag every post with 'shipping' and/or 'rpf' when it even vaguely hints at the stuff, so that not everybody has to see it. this isn't exclusive to this topic - i would do that for anything divisive. so, yeah, casual smosh fans scrolling the main tag probably don't want to see my silly ship edits, and i get that!!

since i've returned we obviously have a much different fandom culture - the old smosh blog shut down years ago and i'm fairly certain none of the cast checks tumblr anymore (and if they do and they're reading this: i'd like to apologize and beg for them to block me for both of our sanities). i've also made a few exceptions to my own rule, such as with the incorrect tweets bc i think those can mostly be written off as jokes and the lil au edits though i regret that at times. (i've been considering un-tagging those for a while tbh.) i've also realized recently that the tag 'smosh fic' just gets sorted directly into the 'smosh' tag which is. a pain in the ass. that's not what i said tumblr and you know it. so some of my content has been filtered in there. but you'll notice with the lil clips and text posts i post and stuff i almost never tag it as 'smosh' because. i just don't need people to see it ya know. i've got my people here and that's enough for me <3

that is all to say by the way that the new fandom culture is not BAD. as we all know, i'm very pro-rpf, so seeing rpf out there is great (as long as you know it's not tinhatting etc etc). we also have a very diverse community now with a lot of interesting ships and great fics that i would never have found without casually scrolling through the smosh tag!! it's also easier nowadays to block tags than ever; casual fans can just block the 'shipping' tag and have (relatively) easy access to the smosh tag. so please all of you keep doing you - i'm not your mother and i don't expect you to listen to lil ole me where i live perched up on my soap box. BUT idk if i personally can get over my hang-ups about tags.

[captainaikus]

TW: ✨spicy✨ thoughts ahead 👀 you’ve been warned 😌

Belle. belle. bElLe. BELLE.

what. RIGHT. do you have. to make me malfunction like this??????

WASHOUT???? I am. Just. I cannot okay.

The lifting their chin with your forefinger???? The caging them to a wall???? The making them suck on your thumb????? ✨magnificent✨

Isagi is actually a babygirl. My man’s acts like he’s all that and then some on the field but we all know he’s eager to get home and whining for you at the end of the day. Like TELL me that this man doesn’t love being degraded and put in his place. UGH.

AND RIN!!??? He hates losing so much but yet here he is, flustered and desperate in front of you. And he was so so so determined to win too, awwww poor baby. I just KNEW jealousy was gonna play a factor into his cause come on now, Rin gets so jealous so easily and it’s the cutest thing ever. Almost cuter than him in a crop top.

BACHIRA. BACHIRA. BACHIRA. First of all. Your first Bachira fic was amazing and definitely worth the wait. But seriously. Baby thought he was gonna get away with teasing you all week? Sweetie, there are consequences to your actions you know? THE WAY HE WAS SO OBEDIENT AND GOOD. UGH. I can literally SEE him smirking up at you with your thumb in his mouth, all hard and desperate, while in his knees. The messing clay hands makes it even more fun. Toki is an interesting nickname, I’ve never heard it before. What’s it mean? OH!!! And have you ever seen that kind of fanart with a ship where it’s a two part?? Where one is talking to their friends while the other it talking to theirs?? And it’s a light shading to highlight the handprints on their bodies??? Which are also the others signature color??? UGH THAT BUT WITH YOU AND BACHIRA. PLS I CAN SEE IT NOW. Have I mentioned that Bachira is my favorite?

How are you btw?? How’s the other blog coming along? Uni still tiring? Are you taking breaks 🤨?? Eating 🤨?? Drinking water 🤨?? Don’t forget to take care of yourself love 😤😤. (I saw all of this with aggressive concern and affection btw).

As for me, Im doing pretty good. I’ve got midterms and final exams coming up. Ive Gita a few assignments to do tonight but nothing too hard, just kinda long. But winter break is almost here so Im really excited for that. Im currently craving fresh bread atm. Specifically with broccoli and cheese soup 🥹🥹. Anyways. I hope you’re taking care of yourself!!! (pls take care of yourself 😭❤️) *sending aggressive virtual hugs*

- ✨ anon

forgot to include in my last basket but like Belle 😭😭😭. you’re turning me so dominant. in THAT way. what am i supposed to do now huh 😭😭😭. all this dom energy and no pretty boys to take it out on 🥹🥹🥹. i blame you (lovingly). take responsibility (affectionately). - ✨ anon

I um (°ー°〃) ... i don't regret it (kiss it better slowed and reverb made me do it and its my fav song now) and i had a panicky moment cause washout wasn't showing up in the tags - turns out if i use links it doesn't show up in the main tag- smh tumblr. you had 1 job. just. 1 job.

Giving back character analysis of how i see the boys-

Rin got two fingers shoved down his throat ( ᵘ ᵕ ᵘ )... hes lucky i didn't make it three

Isagi (sub leaning switch) is babygirl material. On the field he plays mean and rough, but when you're in charge? You can make him whimper. He is very shy when it comes to being in bed and on some days he just doesn't care (you'll see that when the other version is out) coming to terms with subby 'sagi; he is so innocent and cute, he will get turned on from the simple things you do.

Thigh fucking is his fav cause he whines and moans, begging you to let him cum.

Rin (dom leaning switch) - i have already decided on a nickname for him (sequel to my tears your comfort) but i'm caught between the two- so i gotta toss a coin to see which one we're rolling with. You wanna incite a reaction from this guy? Make him jealous. It's actually surprising that despite doing meditation and yoga, his patience snaps like a twig when he sees you dancing with another man despite knowing that you're loyal to him.

Rin wears designer clothes, but if we think abt him wearing a fishnet vest under a crop top for a second... time to fuck his brains out

He subbed his way through this one if you get it you get it Bachira (sub leaning switch fite moi) This is the first time I introduced him properly on the blog and poor baby ended up getting punished. He can already pull off a pretty good ahegao face for a start, so... convince me that he isn't a sub leaning switch. And YES! I know that image of handprints over each other- Bachira's would be orangey/ red and your's is white/gray , Bachi got less on us tho- there is more of it on him. I gave so much of a spoiler away for my tears, your comfort for Bachira and his edition of your words my hurt is not even out yet smh.

So for the nickname in Meguru's case... I really wanted it to be 'Harry' - cause harry POTTER (ik you get it- Bachira is the least creative when it comes to nicknames) and for me, I don't see names as a way of categorizing gender? but i thought some people wouldn't like being called Harry so i played safe and used toki instead which is the japanese word for pottery. or i was thinking abt keeping the nickname as 'nendo' which means clay as well- but Harry clicked... (might change the nickname to that when i release your words my hurt + sequel bachira edition)

ik bachira was your fav- i put it first for a reason (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)و

coming to the part of establishing the reader as the dominant one in washout... it was purely self indulgent and i'm gonna let myself a little loose and say that i'm not a submissive person is a dom/ major dom minor sub and since i've writing a sub reader for too long, my patience snapped and... uh yeah dom came out.

(and i like the fact that we're making people dominant here)

I'm doing alright! Uni is going great, i was late to class by twenty minutes and had a girlboss moment with answering questions (yes i am THAT girl) forgot to take my gloves today and i had to wash out the dirt again (these books are too old like 1940s old) i finished drinking over 2 bottles of water - i don't know how many gallons it was but i knew i needed it cause staying hydrated is important

٩꒰｡•◡•｡꒱۶

I actually ate more than usual today- lasagna, ice cream (gave me a sore throat- very smart isabelle. just had to eat something cold in cold weather when yk its not good for you), fries and chocolates. sausage and rice too but we won't talk abt that

as for the other blog...yk the drill moot; crying abt oliver and becoming mutuals with people who are active on my main blog and interact with me (∩˃o˂∩)♡

Oof exams! Good luck with that- and take it easy okay? *thinking if i should make a set of hcs for stuff like this* broccoli and cheese soup T-T (wants to have soup too) i hope you have your meal and savor it.

And yea i'm taking care! *busy watching moomin*

*sending back hugs*

[sephmonet]

January’s Reading List

I promised myself that i would keep tabs on all the things I read this year, both on and off tumblr. Also - this shines light on some amazing authors that I’ve come across and don’t want to forget. If you’d rather not be tagged (because if you’re on this list, it means im legit reading every fic you pump out LMAO) please let me know!

This one is starting off mostly as a backlog, because I should’ve done this earlier... Oops.

also i can’t, for the life of me, ever recall fics off of the top of my head.

This is in no particular order other than what I can find off of my blog and my pc tabs - i have 3 million open at all times.

The Last of Us

abby love spell by @ohcaptains

 This abby x reader fic is literally the first I’ve ever read because I def wasn’t an abby stan. This entire fic is perfection from head to toe, legit smutty perfection. The longing, the desperation, the banter is just so great and I can’t recommend this one enough.

miss sunshine by @nexusnyx

I’ve read a lot of Joel fics, being a longtime Joel lover. (Seriously, I’ve been in love with this man since I was 13.) This one is my all time favorite, hands down. I love the dynamic here, I love how the author takes the characterization of Joel miller and makes it better. I especially love that Sunshine is a nickname given to her by him and not Sarah.

Everything here is perfect for me. No qualms. I read it every couple of days.

Call of Duty (MWII)

yours to keep by @mvtthewmurdvck

In lieu of authors turning me onto characters that I never thought I’d like, this one is divine. Definitely helps that they accidentally used my actual nickname but, even without it, this fic is just so deliciously sexy and real. I could write paragraphs on how much I love this story.

Softly by @littleferal

This Rudy fic accompanies another two amazing fics, but this specifically highlights Rudy featuring a little bit of Ale. The Las Almas boys are so well done in this authors hands. They truly nailed how gentle and attentive a lover Rudy can be. The sugar and spice dynamic of Rudy and Ale is perfection here.

Simon Says & Daddy’s Home by @emomanswhore

For these to be their only two fucking fics on this site, holy shit.

Author came out that bitch SWINGING. I remember these two fics being the first real ghost x reader that I felt really strongly about because its the first time I ever really got into a reblogging stint. Ontop of a black coded and bratty!reader, Gods. These two stories keep my horny ass up at night. Point blank.

“its so hot when you talk back” by @gh0stswh0re

Speaking of smut that keeps me up at night.. this is some toe-curling stuff. I love brat tamer!Ghost so much. This author captures his filthy fucking mouth so well.

Untitled Konig Drabble by @luxuryberzatto

Listen... Between Konig and Price.. those two are fighting rn for White Boy of the Month for me. But this drabble??? I think i’d have to let Konig have the “Bear” title. Just this once.. author made him begging sound so sexy.

Her heart was the most Beautiful Thing I Ever Broke by @day0walker​

This is an ongoing Price series that I just can’t wait to really dig into. I’ve read the first few chapters and, I have to say, Im afraid this might become one of my favorites for my main man. Perfect, so far, in every way. The banter is top tier.

Price’s Masterlist by @yeyinde

Literally feeds us so much. The Price girlies are forever in this authors favor. Everything they write for that man is so delicious, so fucking ambrosial that i’ll literally put down what Im doing to read what they’ve written for him.

Ghosts and Mirages Masterlist by @stararch4ngelqueen

Still ongoing series, but its so good. Nothing has fed me more than this series for Ghost right here. It’s quite literally a masterpiece. I’ve never felt more emotion for a series than this one right here. PERFECT.

Misc. Characters

Blossom Dearie by @nymphlamp

Carmy is SO good in this Authors hands. So perfect. This fic turned me into such a carmy girl that it isn’t even funny and I should actually go to a therapist about it. Such beautiful writing. Also another black coded!reader <3

Morning by @write-and-buried​

This is a Dieter Bravo fic and.. Whew lord this, and the second part of it is sooooooo fucking hot. I still haven’t seen whatever movie this is yet but by Gods does this fic make me want to dive headfirst into it.

The Fire in Your Eyes Series by @flamehairedwritings​

such a good series for Aurthur Morgan. So well fucking done with so many emotions. Beautiful and meaningful writing.

Off of Tumblr

Safe House by Alternate_Alien

Another ongoing price fic... but Bodyguard!Price dealing with a bratty!reader??? Cmooooon now. Its too good.

Lady of Rooksgrave Manor by Kathryn Moon

Reverse harems are such a guilty pleasure of mine. This turned me into a monster fucker.. Im not sorry.

[madlittlecriminal]

is it really too much to ask for people to tag their smut with simple "smut" and "x reader" tags? that way people who don't want to see it don't have to block every single individual "*character* x reader" / "*character* smut" tag they can think of, especially someone browsing the character's main tag...

sorry if this comes off as rude. i'm not trying to be rude, and this isn't personal, it's about most self-insert writers on tumblr, but if i can convince even one person to tag properly, i will. i beg of you, please tag your stuff properly.

i mean, if it bothers you, i will, but you can filter content as well, not just tags. if you put “smut” under the content filter, it’ll filter everything for you that has “smut” in the fic and trust me, every writer adds the word “smut” in their warnings. trust me, i hardly write smut, so im shook that im getting this ask.

for example, i filtered “noncon/non-con” so anytime someone writes it, there’s a warning blocking it out for me stating that it contains it :)

[sondepoch]

Tokyo Riding (2/3)

PAIRING: Sugar Daddy!Sukuna/Reader + Gojo/Reader

TAGS: dom!Gojo, implied power dynamics, riding, smut, overstimulation, short refractory period, safe sex (condom) but unsafe driving practices

WORD COUNT: 7.6k

JUJUTSU KAISEN MASTERLIST || prev. part

One night. One banquet. One car. Three shots of vodka, and two hot men who make you feel completely different things. A chance to go joyriding in Tokyo will change everything, and it’s up to you to either join in on the drive or be left in the dust.

In which:

Sukuna is your sugar daddy, and he’s been neglecting you.

Gojo is not neglecting you, and he is very horny.

Sukuna is very horny, very angry, and very much in denial.

Chapter Title: vroom vroom plus bitch gets fucked

Chapter Summary: Gojo is not neglecting you, and he is very horny.

Tokyo feels different when you’re moving one-hundred miles per hour, music blasting in your ears, knees shaking from thrill and fear and adrenaline.

There’s something exhilarating about it: the fact that the speed limit was abandoned thirty miles ago, that the police might catch the two of you at any second, that the person whose car you stole this from might track you down, that this night can end at any second, any time, and the two of you won’t even realize it because you’re moving too fast to look anywhere but straight ahead. 

Sukuna wouldn’t approve of this, you know.

He likes you kept safe and sound within his penthouse apartment with twelve layers of security that not even his assistants are granted access past, likes you resting peacefully in his cushioned bed with soft, fluffy pillows, likes you away from other people and away from the real world—all because you’re too breakable a toy for him to let anyone else touch you.

Gojo doesn’t seem to care about any of that.

“Faster?” he asks, grinning. You love and hate the way he keeps his eyes on you as he asks that, not even bothering to stay focused on the road because he knows the thrill comes from the unexpected, the unknown. 

“Faster,” you say, breathless, and your body is lurched backward as the needle on the speedometer tips towards its upper limit.

You had the fortune of selecting a sports car, Gojo told you. You were lucky enough to select the best possible car for joyriding, one that even Gojo hasn’t had the opportunity to test on the road.

Why not? Don’t you have access to sports cars from your…um… (You remember searching for a better than ‘sugar daddy’ since you were too unsure of Gojo’s relationship with the Nanami Kento he was talking about earlier.) 

Of course I do. But joyriding is pretty dangerous, sweetheart. I’d be in some real trouble if I wrecked a sports car, Gojo said.

At the time, you let it slide.

Now, though, you can’t help but wonder how many cars Gojo has already wrecked.

“Satoru,” you whisper, now comfortable with saying his first name after he’s corrected you so many times. 

“What’s up, sweetheart?”

The man turns to you and grins that toothy smile you’ve already started to fall in love with—and you’re abruptly struck with how similar it is to Sukuna’s own arrogant smile, crooked at the side and bordering into a smirk in the exact same way.

You force the thought from your mind, telling yourself that Sukuna isn’t here, that he’s back in that stupid banquet hall with other girls he likes better than you. 

You had something to say to Gojo, but your brain is empty now.

“Go faster” is all you can think to say, praying that your thoughts of Sukuna will be left in the dust as well.

But it doesn’t work.

The more you try to force Sukuna from your mind, the more you think about him: the way he’d always burrow his head into your neck in the morning because the sunlight was too bright, the softness of his smile whenever he’d come home to the penthouse to see you waiting behind the front door, how he, a man practically double your size with his toned muscles, would cling to you whenever he got a little tipsy because he wanted to see nothing but your body, feel nothing but your touch, think of nothing but you.

Your lip begins to tremble.

You don’t know when things went wrong. It was never really about money for Sukuna, you know—but could he have been turned off by the fact that it was for you? Does he still think that you’re only entertaining him because of how much he pays you? Does he think you only care about his wallet rather than him?

Tears build in your eyes.

You’ve never been clear about actually appreciating him. Does Sukuna view you as the same as all the other golddiggers he’s turned away?

Horror builds in your heart.

You despised Sukuna in the beginning for his arrogant demeanor and assholish tendencies, only agreeing to be with him because he fucked you good and he was wealthy enough to support you better than you could hope to on your own.

Are you a golddigger?

“Oh god,” you whisper, panic crossing your face. This whole time, you were upset that Sukuna was pushing you away…but could you have been putting him off from the very beginning? Were you really nothing more than a cocksleeve for him? A good pussy, and nothing more?

Your fingers tremble.

This was never supposed to be anything other than a mutually beneficial relationship, but you can’t help but feel like you’re starting to like Sukuna for more than just his benefits. But is that allowed? Does he want that? Could he be pushing you away because he’s figured out that you’re starting to like him for more than his cock and cash?

“Hey.”

An uncharacteristically serious voice breaks you from your thoughts.

You blink and suddenly realize that the car has rolled to a total stop near a highway streetlight. The music has been cut. Gojo is looking at you, sunglasses lifted to his forehead, and genuine concern is written in the creases of his eyebrows.

“Hey,” he repeats, gentle. He doesn’t touch you. “What’s wrong?”

“I—I need to call—”

“Sweetheart, you look terrified. You’re…” Gojo reaches a hand out to catch one of your tears before it can fall. His thumb glistens like his diamond studs when he brings it away. “What’s wrong? Am I going too fast? Do you want me to take us back?”

“No—I mean, maybe—I mean…”

Fear washes over your mind. Does Sukuna even care that you’re gone? Has he even noticed?

“I don’t know…”

You sink your head. 

Things were going so well, earlier: this ride was exhilarating and intoxicating wrapped up in one. Your mind finally shut down and all the bad feelings that washed over you when Sukuna left three weeks ago vanished. It was the best you’d felt in a long, long time, and…

“I’m trying to forget something,” you sniff, drawing your knees closer together and looking away. “But I can’t.”

Gojo remains quiet for a moment. Then, he sighs.

“Trying to forget, huh?” He sighs, pulling his sunglasses off entirely. “I…I can help you with that. If you want.”

You tilt your head at the man. 

Is that an offer to fuck you?

Your eyes skim over him, top to bottom. Normally, you’d feel like he’s out of your league with how beautiful he is, but you’re also dressed to impress tonight. While your eyeliner may have been smudged by your tears, you know that you, too, must look impeccable.

“Okay,” you say, thinking that maybe all you need to forget Sukuna is to be dicked down by another man. His possessive rules forbidding you from doing so are forgotten. “Okay, Satoru, I—”

“Good. Switch places with me.”

Satoru smirks that cocky little smirk—and it reminds you of just half an hour ago, where you thought he was about to fuck you when he pulled you out of the banquet, only to take you joyriding.

“Satoru, what are you—”

“You’re gonna go riding, baby.” Gojo grins. “And you’re gonna go so fast you forget whatever it is that’s worrying your pretty little head.”

You sigh.

Gojo Satoru is a man you’ll never understand. Forget sex, his mind functions on a completely different wavelength than yours.

“Satoru, I can’t drive,” you say. “I already told you this. I’ve never—”

“It’s okay, doll,” Gojo says, patting his lap. You start to understand what he wants to happen. “I’ll be right here to correct you if anything goes wrong.”

And you’d doubtlessly complain more about the raw idiocy of this idea, but Gojo’s arms are long and strong, and he pulls you into his lap within seconds, one hand resting on your thigh as the other interlaces with your fingers on the wheel.

“This is stupid,” you say, squirming on his lap. You don’t miss how he sucks in a breath when your ass grinds down. “I can’t even reach the pedal—”

“Of course you can,” Gojo says, and you don’t need to look back to know he’s grinning. His hand slides down your bare legs (and you’re abruptly grateful that you took time to moisturize before coming to this banquet), and then he latches his fingers around the heels you’re wearing, tugging them off. 

Your feet feel free now that the heavy leather is off, but it somehow makes you feel even more exposed.

“Come on, doll. Reach. You can touch the pedal, yeah?”

And sure enough, when you arch your foot down, body squirming gently against Gojo’s groin, you come into contact with what you know to be the acceleration pedal. 

Without a moment of hesitation, you push your toe down.

Hard.

Then, the two of you are back to speeding down the highway, 

Gojo is still doing all the work. Your leg can’t quite reach the brake pedal, and it’s all you can do to press harder and harder on the acceleration. Your grip on the steering wheel, too, is glorified: your two hands do nothing compared to the confident steering of Gojo, who guides the racecar around curves at top speed with a single palm. 

“This is dangerous!” you call, barely audible over the loud roaring of the engine. “What if—what if we see another—”

“Baby,” Gojo growls into your ear, so close that you have to hear it. The deepness of his voice reminds you of Sukuna, reminds you of sex, reminds you of the wetness that’s starting to pool between your thighs. “Look around. It’s just us and the road.”

And truly, Gojo brings the us in that statement to life.

Your bodies start to mold together, Gojo’s free hand massaging your thighs sweetly. He pulls you closer against his waist, filling whatever space might have previously lied between your bodies, and you can feel his slow breathing, steady and sensual, against the thin fabric wrapped around your back.

“Satoru…” you whisper when he squeezes your thigh. Your brain is beginning to slow, mind giving way to body as Gojo gets closer and closer to the spot between your thighs. “What are you...”

“Do you want me to stop?” he asks and grins when you don’t answer. A kiss is laid against your shoulder. “Good girl. Just focus on the road.”

But when Gojo finally hands control over to you, releasing his grip on the steering wheel and trusting that you’ll handle it all, it’s impossible to just focus on the road—because when his hand disappears from the wheel, it reappears between your thighs, and you’re obsessed with the way his fingers are stroking your legs.

“This dress is so tight on you,” Gojo hums, teasing his digits beneath the fabric. “Is it the first time you’re wearing it?”

“Y-yes,” you stutter out, legs instinctively spreading as Gojo’s fingers start pulling them apart. Your foot, previously pressed against the acceleration pedal, pulls back, but the car keeps going. 

“Do you like it?” Gojo continues, and you’re confused until he catches the strap of your dress between his teeth to tug at it.

“N-not really,” you confess, mind started to go fuzzy. Gojo’s massaging your thighs now, and you’re starting to get so wet that it’ll seep down onto his trousers. “Just wore it b’cause I had to. Didn’t—oh—”

You gasp as Gojo licks a strip along your neck, his hot tongue brushing by a particularly sensitive spot. 

“Didn’t—didn’t get to—to pick it—out!”

Your grip on the steering wheel tightens as you veer the car to the right to prevent yourself from crashing. Your body is unbelievably responsive right now. Perhaps it’s the fact that Sukuna didn’t allow you to cum for the three weeks of his business trip? The fact that he never gave you a proper orgasm upon his return? 

“Hmm…so you won’t mind if I rip your dress?” Gojo hums.

“No, please—” you gasp, hips bucking down. The car jerks forward as Gojo presses harder on the acceleration in return. “Please, do whatever you want, please just touch—”

“Good.”

Without an ounce of hesitation, Gojo rips the fabric of your already-short dress in the middle until there’s a slit stretching all the way to your belly button.

You gasp as it happens, a protest already leaving your lips when Gojo’s deft fingers then pick up the two folds of fabric around the slit and lift them to peek inside—

“Wow,” he whispers into your ear, his head tilted down. “No underwear, huh, sweetheart?”

Your cheeks flush. Instinctively, you know this is wrong. You came to this banquet without underwear for Sukuna in hopes that it would tempt him into fucking you. This dress, too, was selected by the man himself, and you know he’d be furious to learn that you not only allowed it to get ripped but practically encouraged Gojo to do so—

But then you think of how neglectful Sukuna’s been towards you as of late, and you decide that it’s time you put him out of mind.

“Satoru,” you whisper, turning to him. It never occurs to you that you’re still gripping the wheel, that you should be watching the road. “Satoru, touch me.”

“Ah, right,” he chuckles, meeting your heady gaze. “You’re still trying to forget that something, aren’t you?”

He grins a boyish grin that’s familiar in a way you can’t quite place, and then he brings his cherry pink lips to yours, kissing you long and deep over your shoulder. 

He presses down harder on the acceleration, the car jerking forward, and it forces you to pay attention to the road as his arms snake around your body, squeezing the flesh around your stomach, groping the skin by your thighs, dipping his fingers between your legs and toying with your pussy. “You look good, baby,” Gojo whispers into your ear. The road is forgotten to his mind, the high speed of the car nothing but a byproduct to how hard Gojo is pressing down to distract from the buildup in his groin. “Can’t believe I waited this long. Wanted to fuck you the second I saw you.”

“Yeah?” you say as he starts nibbling at your neck. A gasp spills past your lips as he circles your cunt, dipping a finger inside. “Wanted to fuck you too, Satoru. We didn’t need to do this in a car—oh—we—we—we could’ve just gone upstairs—”

“There’s nothing fun about that,” Gojo whispers, chuckling breathily. The sound makes you even wetter, and he slips a second finger inside. “And it’s a crime for a pretty girl like you to be kept all mopey on a barstool. I knew the second I saw you that I needed to put some fun in your life.”

“Your fun is dangerous,” you gasp.

“Nah it’s,” Gojo presses down on a particularly spongy spot inside you, and your vision flickers. “Exciting.”

Words beyond that point are impossible. It’s all you can do to cling to the wheel, desperately praying that the road continues to remain empty, that the highway remains straight, that you can continue to place minimal attention on the tar pavement to focus on how good Gojo’s fingers feel as they start curling in and out of you. He’s forgotten that that two of you are in a car, now pressing down on the acceleration at maximum speed, and he’s suckling at your neck a baby, obnoxious and loud as he sucks hickeys into you with the blunts of his teeth, mindless and devoted as he grinds against your ass.

“Right there,” you whisper, eyes struggling to remain open when his thumb begins rubbing circles into your clit. “Yes, Satoru, just like that, please—”

He adds a third inside, and now he’s pumping his fingers inside you like they’re a cock, grinning into your neck as you grind down.

“Feels good, yeah?” he whispers, his breath hot and heavy against your ear. He licks the shell of it. “Gonna cum for me, sweetheart? Inside this stolen car like a cheap bitch? While we’re driving?”

“Yes, Satoru, m’gonna—can’t—wait—”

Gojo forces your body to twist as he captures you in a hot and heavy kiss, cherry pink lips overwhelming you with how deeply they suck you in, almost as if his mouth is a void that’s pulling you in, as if his kisses are the gateway to hell and he’s Satan, tempting you deeper inside.

You can’t control the steering wheel like this, and it jerks to the side when Gojo forces you to turn around so abruptly, so he jerks it back into place to stop you from crashing into the metal railings.

That jerk, the motion of the car swerving back into place, is what pushes you over the edge.

For a single second, Gojo’s long fingers are shoved even deeper inside you than they’d been before, his calloused thumb pressing down a tad harder than what you’d normally be comfortable with, and the feeling shoots electricity down your body as Gojo continues to kiss you, continues to grind up against you, continues to fuck you on his fingers the way you’ve wanted for so long.

As you come down from your high, so too does the car.

It feels surreal as the vehicle slows down, and you can’t tell if it’s the aftershocks of the orgasm or the effect of moving so fast that your entire body tingles when he’s rolled to a stop beneath a streetlamp, your whole body twitching and sensitive.

“Fuck,” Gojo whispers, pulling back from you. His lips are plumper now, swollen from a bite you must have given in your high delirium. “I was gonna wait, but I can’t sweetheart. You’re too hot.”

He manhandles you around so that you’re facing him, his blazer slipping off to reveal strong arms that support your body weight effortlessly. He lifts you by your knees until you’re straddling his lap, resting the curve of your back laid against the steering wheel, and you have to admire how Gojo is so tall and lean that even with you sitting on his thighs, his shoulders tower over yours, over the car seat.

“God,” he mumbles, pressing his thumb down on your puffy pussy. It’s still exposed, the flaps of your dress pushed up to your stomach.

“You’re stunning.”

He runs his hand along your cunt, gathering slick on his hand and then bringing it to the light. The two of you stare at it together, mesmerized by how his hand glistens, not just damp but soaked with how wet he’s made you.

“Wow.”

For the first time since you met him, the two of you are frozen.

The car is rolled to a stop.

The Tokyo lights around you are too far off to disturb the stillness.

The music is off, the banquet is forgotten, the world has come to a standstill, and there are no flourishes to paint false exhilaration into your veins as you stare at Gojo and his thumb, wondering what he’ll do. You don’t know when your heart began beating so fast, but it slows down as your eyes flit to Gojo’s thumb, Gojo, Gojo’s thumb, and then again Gojo. You can’t help but wonder what he’ll do with it: will he be like Sukuna and lick your slick all away? Or will he be like your past lovers, stuffing his fingers into your mouth and returning your essence to your own body?

The spell breaks as Gojo leans forward.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he whispers and smearing his glistening thumb along your lips before capturing you in another intoxicating kiss.

It’s mesmerizing. You can taste yourself on his tongue, can taste the way he seems to hunger for more of that same flavor by searching for it in your mouth, and the feeling alone is enough to leave you lightheaded, dizzy.

It’s terrifying. You can feel his palm moving, unbuckling his pants, and you have no idea how you’ll be able to last an entire night of Gojo when just his fingers have you so affected.

It’s amazing. You’re finally forgetting what it was that drove you into Gojo’s arms, what had you sitting teary-eyed at a bartop one hour ago, what had you risking everything for a single reckless experience to take you away from it all.

It’s Gojo, and he’s pulling back with that charming grin on his face, his eyes shamelessly taking in the heavy pant to your chest, the swollen pout to your lips, the slick that’s dripping down your thighs onto his slacks and how you’re only getting wetter with each passing second.

“Fuck me, Satoru,” you whisper as soon as he gets his cock out.

He kisses you again, deep and intoxicating and violent.

Then, he’s focused on himself.

Gojo pumps his cock once, twice, and scrambles for a condom. He opens his wallet, his pocket, his back pocket and—

“Glove compartment,” you say before Gojo can blurt out that he doesn’t have a condom, and he doesn’t question how you know it’s there, simply darting behind your back to pull one out and wrapping the latex around his long pink cock.

“I don’t have lube,” he whispers, a hand dropping to your thighs. “Should—should I finger you more? Or—”

“Please just put it in,” you blurt, lifting your hips automatically. You don’t care how desperate it makes you look; all that matters is that there’s a delicious cock sitting in front of you, tall and flushed and dripping with precum, and you want it inside now. 

“Okay,” Gojo whispers, stealing another short kiss from your lips. “Okay, sweetheart. Tell me if it’s too much.”

And you thought his kisses were intoxicating, but as Gojo slips inside of you, you’re convinced that this is heaven.

The two of you moan in unison: you, at finally being filled by something proper after weeks of abandonment; him, at finally sinking inside a piece of meat he’s been eyeing since he saw you. Your eyes flutter shut and your body gravitates closer to Gojo, your pretty tits pressing up against his chest, and you pull yourself down for the final few inches, taking the lead as you grip his shoulders. 

Then, everything jerks forward.

A yelp spills past your lips the second you realize what’s happening, an involuntary surge of wetness flooding out from your cunt, and the speed of the car jerks you up on Gojo’s lap, practically forcing you to ride the man.

“G-Gojo you’re—you’re—the car—”

“Feels too good,” Gojo groans, jerking his hips up. Fear surges through your heart, and you realize that his head is buried in your neck, nibbling and biting hickeys into your skin, that Gojo isn’t even watching the road as his foot weighs heavily against the accelerator.

“Move your foot,” you babble, fingers lifting to pull his head from your nape. “You’re gonna crash, it’s going too fast, you’re gonna kill us both—”

“The only thing that’ll kill me,” Gojo grumbles, and he bites down harder against your neck, mouthing at a mark that’ll be with you for weeks, “Is you if you don’t let me fuck you.”

And the phrasing of that is too similar for it to be coincidence, too similar for it to be chance—and your mind darts to the first few times you slept with Sukuna, how his hand was always gripped harshly around something to help him control himself as he'd ravage your cunt. It’s the reason why the post of your old bed frame cracked, the reason why bedsheets would always tear during sex, the reason why Sukuna had to drive you to the hospital the first time he held your hand during sex because he gripped it so hard that it was swollen the next day. 

Is Gojo the same?

Is he pressing his foot down on the accelerator to help him control himself? To stop from ruining you beyond repair? To keep you intact as you take a cock long enough to spear you in two?

“Gojo, let’s go to the backseat,” you whisper, starting to feel dizzy as you watch Tokyo pass you by in a blur. “This isn’t safe, it’s—it’s too—”

You’re cut off when the car bumps a little. It drives Gojo’s cock straight into one of those special spots inside you that have you seeing stars, seeing paradise, seeing pink—and the man takes that as his opportunity to take charge, using your horny body’s weakness to his advantage.

“The backseat is boring, doll,” Gojo says. His hands find the bottom of your thighs, coaxing you up—and even like this, you’re still smaller than him, his line of sight clear over your shoulder. “Tell you what,” he says, glancing up into your eyes. “I’ll drive safe and watch the road just for you, princess, but you have to do something for me in exchange.”

“What is it?” you whisper, mesmerized by his eyes. You almost don’t want him to look away.

The car jerks forward as Gojo starts moving even faster, and his lips curl upwards into an arrogant grin as his cock twitches inside of you. 

“Ride me.”

Something in you sings in agreement.

You drop your hips experimentally, so wet that his cock glides in even on the last few inches, and align yourself carefully. It’s not often that you take the lead in sex, and if Sukuna ever has you on top it’s because he’s the one bouncing you on his lip, hands wrapped around your waist to make it so you don’t have to put any effort in.

But Gojo and Sukuna aren't the same.

You hesitantly repeat your little bounce action, hoping that it's good enough, but Gojo is unimpressed:

“Aw, you’re not very experienced in this, are you?” His hips jerk upwards. “Well, that’s okay. I’ll teach you how to properly ride a man.”

And you don’t really understand when he means by teach, but when there’s a sharp slap to the bottom of your ass, your eyes light up with anger. 

“Why did you just—”

“Down,” Gojo says, and the word falls from his lips with such authority that you clench down on him. “You’ve gotta do this faster, sweetheart. It’s not even a challenge to pay attention to the road right now.”

Embarrassment warms your cheeks, but you take his words as a challenge. He thinks you’re a boring fuck? That it’s easy to be balls deep inside you and on the road?

You’ll show him.

You’ll make him crash this stupid little sports car.

A fire now lit under you, you ride Gojo faster. Harder. Better. His breath starts to hitch in your ear and his arms start to twitch. You watch his eyes flutter shut every now and then, and only when a quiet “fuck, princess” spills from his lips do you stop focusing on him to let yourself relax into the pleasure.

And it feels fucking good.

Your eyes flutter shut and you yourself in all the sensations. The hum of the car, roaring loud and clear but still sounding far away compared to Gojo’s quiet pants. The cool of the vent fan, keeping your nipples stiff and perky to contrast the warmth that Gojo brings. The friction of his slacks against your core, your little clit practically grinding up against him every time your hips lift, and the overwhelming pleasure you get whenever you come down.

You moan.

“Having fun there, sweetheart?”

Gojo looks at you and grins. His lips, glistening pink and pretty, have finally lost their sardonic edge, and the man’s cheeks are tinged pink. 

You can’t resist the urge. Atop his lap, propped up by his arms and his cock, you lean down to steal a kiss from him, long and hard, intense and deep.

Gojo kisses back but harder, his neck chasing you as you pull up. 

“S-Satoru,” you gasp as he starts nibbling at your bottom lip, practically devouring you as he leans forward. The gesture pushes you further and further back until your neck is pressed against the steering wheel, your pussy twitches around Gojo’s cock, whining over its inability to ride him like this.

You pout.

“What are you—”

“I let you have your fun,” Gojo says, placing a slender finger to your lips. “But you're still not very good at this. So let me take the lead, yeah?”

You blink.

The car slows.

As Gojo’s hands find the bottoms of your knees, you start to understand what’s happening.

“S-Satoru, you can’t—”

“I can and I will, princess,” Gojo growls, jerking your legs up in a single fluid motion until they’re hooked around his shoulder. The motion forces your body flush against his hips, drilling his cock deeper inside of you. It touches places even Sukuna has yet to touch, makes you feel things you’ve never felt before. Your body, previously pressed against his own torso, is gently pushed backward until your head is against the wheel—and this new position has you practically split in half, legs lifted over your head as Gojo’s cock presses against you in an entirely new angle.

“Yeah, this is better,” he says, grinning. Two hands find their way next to your head, and you almost forget that they’re there to grip the steering wheel, instead feeling like he’s merely pinned you to a bed with his palms on either side of your face. 

Gojo leans forward, catching the low V of your dress between his teeth. Then, he pulls downwards until your tits have burst free.

“Perfection.”

The car picks up speed.

You aren’t surprised this time when the vehicle jerks forward. If anything, you relish in it. Gojo can see everything from this angle: you, the road, and his cock, drilling in and out of you as he bounces you in his lap.

It makes you feel safe, you realize, as he peppers your skin with kisses.

It makes you feel peaceful, you realize, as he presses down harder on the acceleration.

It makes you feel orgasmic, you realize, mind growing closer to a headspace you’ve been chasing for three weeks.

“Harder, Satoru,” you whisper, reaching up and tugging at his collar. 

Gojo blinks. 

“You…” he trails off, keeping his grip tight on the steering wheel as he brushes your jaw with his thumb. “You’re an insatiable little thing, aren’t you?”

Gojo smiles. It’s a crooked smile, containing inside it all the calm in the world for a storm of terrifying magnitude, but you don’t care. The wind is whipping past your car at over one-fifty miles per hour now, and Gojo is the storm, one you’ve willingly let into this vehicle, into your arms, into you. 

“Now I get why he chose you,” Gojo says, and before you can question who that he is, Gojo’s railing into you, emptying your brain as the last of your sense melts out of your wet, wet pussy.

Oh, you think the second his body starts moving. Oh, this is why he’s so cocky.

Gojo’s fucking you like Sukuna—something you didn’t think could ever be possible. His cock, thinner than you’re used to but also longer, prods along all your sensitive spots without pattern; your toes are constantly curling from how different bouts of pleasure come bursting between your legs, how there’s no predictability to his thrusts, how every time you relax into Gojo’s pleasure, he startles you with something different, something unique, something wet.

“S-Satoru,” you whine as he starts sucking at your nipples. 

“The road is straight,” he says quickly, teeth fastening to one bud. “No cars, either. We’re not gonna crash.”

“Not that,” you moan, almost embarrassed now at how you’re barely even thinking about the road anymore, about your safety. “It’s…I…um…”

Words stick like honey in the back of your throat as Gojo continues suckling at your tits, groping them like an overzealous kid, but your need to warn him increases.

“I—I’m—”

Embarrassment washes over your features as Gojo understands what you’re trying to say.

He laughs, short and condescending.

“Already? Sweetheart, it’s been seconds—”

But it doesn’t matter that he’s been fucking you for less than a minute, that he’s probably never had a girl cum so embarrassingly quick on him: you’ve been teetering over the edge for a long time, and Gojo just manhandled you over it. 

And now, you’re about to fall.

Instinctively, your hands move.

It’s a habit cultivated by months of fucking Sukuna: to reach for your partner’s hand, to intertwine your fingers together, to kiss palms before cumming—but Gojo isn’t Sukuna, and he doesn’t know what you’re doing, so as he drills his cock deeper and deeper into you, you end up grabbing his wrists and burrowing your face into them, hiding, whimpering and—

You hit your high, ecstasy overwhelming you all at once. It's the moment you've been waiting for from the moment you bade Sukuna farewell for his business trip, the moment you were hoping to share with the pink-haired man, the moment your body has been seeking out on its own since you stuffed that sorry dildo inside you earlier this afternoon when Sukuna refused to help. It's all-encompassing, soul-crushing, mind-numbing, and every thought goes out of your mind as you quiver in Gojo's arms, losing yourself in the raw feeling of finally receiving a pleasure that's been deprived to you for weeks.

“Are you crying?”

Above you, Gojo laughs, and you swear the car inches faster as he gets more excited.

“Feels too good,” you whimper, all sense starting to fade out of you as your mind gives way to your pussy, and you clamp down harder around Gojo’s cock as he continues fucking you through your orgasm. 

“Hell. Hell! Sukuna found himself such a fun little toy!” Gojo cackles.

“W-wait,” you whisper, tugging at Gojo’s sleeve. Your head lolls to the side, and there’s a heaviness in your brain. Lustful fog obscures all though, and all you can do is speak your mind: honestly, earnestly, and oh so sweetly. “Satoru, need a break. ‘s too s-sensitive.”

“Too sensitive?” Gojo coos, grinning. You can’t put your finger on it, but there’s something taunting in his voice. “And you want me to stop making myself feel good so you can relax a bit?”

“Mhm,” you slur, and you lean your head against Gojo’s arm. 

Relief washes over you as his cock grows still inside you.

“Oh, thank you, Satoru. Felt so good—so good—but need a break. Your cock is so good. Wanna stay here forever, Satoru, wanna get fucked forever. After a break. But it’s so good, wanna—”

“You’re the cutest thing,” Gojo says, and he strokes your cheek. Something gets quieter, and the dizziness of your head lightens a tad. “Who would’ve thought a smart girl like you gets all dumb over cock? Did Sukuna train that into you? Or am I just that good?”

“It’s—”

“You’re a bit lazy, though. Letting me do all the work, driving and fucking. Didn’t even offer to suck me off after I worked so hard prepping you.”

“I’m sor—”

“So sweet, though. Your eyes look pretty when you’re not thinking. You know that, sweetheart? Your eyes are all nice and empty. Stupid and slutty. It’s the look other bitches get while they’re cumming, not after. But you’re special, aren’t you?”

“Thank—”

“I wish you could see yourself, doll. Cock hungry, dress torn, crying and drooling. I wanna take a picture, babe, because I could die happy after seeing this. Wanna know why, sweetheart?”

“Wh—”

“‘Cause you’re Sukuna Ryoumen’s girl.”

Gojo presses his lips to yours, and you whimper when the force of the movement pushes his cock deeper inside your sensitive, sensitive hole. 

“And I’m the one you’re choosing to fuck.”

Then, the mercy ends.

All at once, the overwhelming sensations return. The dizziness. The sound. Gojo’s dick, railing in and out of you with no care for the fact that you need more time to relax into this, no care for the fact that your pleasure is clouded.

But your mind focuses on something else.

“S-Satoru,” you whimper, writhing away from him. “Satoru, I never told you Sukuna’s name, I never—”

“Are you that stupid?” Gojo asks, expression wild, and you don’t know whether to be relieved or offended because the question “He’s a business partner, princess. I’ve been working with him longer than you’ve known his last name.”

“Wait,” you mumble, “You told me you were a sugar baby like me, you told me—”

Gojo laughs again, and you hate how another thrust from him pries a moan from your lips. 

“Dumb slut. I let you think I was whatever you wanted because it was easier for me that way. “

“Easier?” Betrayal floods your heart. You found a sense of companionship with Gojo, a sense of kinship. There was a rare trust in your heart for the man after (falsely) discovering he was a sugar baby like you, and the only reason you left with him so readily was that you thought he was the antithesis of Sukuna, a polar opposite to the man you were with, someone who would never do anything half as cruel.

“Easier to do what?” you sob, and now the tears in your eyes are from hurt, from frustration, from pain. 

“This, princess.”

And Gojo starts fucking even harder.

You’re feeling so many emotions when he starts doing it—whatever it is that makes your mind go completely hazy—and it’s cathartic for you because when Gojo fucks you in earnest, everything disappears. The car. The sound of the car. Sukuna. Your feelings for Sukuna. Gojo. Your anger at Gojo.

All that remains is his cock and your cunt—and the thumb he’s using to grind harshly into your clit.

The treatment is harsh, animalistic. It’s chaotic and intense and mindnumbing, and you don’t realize how your ankles hook over Gojo’s shoulders, how you slip down on the steering wheel to bend your body deeper in half, how your mouth slacks open and you give up to give into it all.

Gojo’s watching. He notices everything: how you go from being so angry to so dumb, forgetting all grievances in favor of his dick.

He’s saying stuff you can’t hear.

“Look at my slutty little girl. Are you still crying? How cute.”

Thrust. Kiss. Thrust.

“You’ve got such a nice body, you know that, princess? So fucking hot.”

Pinch. Kiss. Thrust.

“Wish Sukuna could see this. That asshole talks to me like I’m filth, but I bet he doesn’t fuck you half as good as me.”

Thrust. Thrust. Thrust.

You don’t hear any of Gojo’s words, too overwhelmed with your own state. Your orgasms are melding together, Gojo’s hold on your hips so tight that you’re unable to pull away as you normally do, and you can’t tell where one feeling ends and another one begins.

“It’s too much,” you start whimpering again, and you search for Gojo’s hand desperately, trying to communicate to him that you’re truly nearing your limit now. 

“I get it, doll,” Gojo mutters, and that relieves you until you hear the next part: “But I’m close, baby. Just give me a little longer. I’m so close.”

Your eyes scrunch shut. Your body no longer feels like your own. You’re sweating and crying and drooling, and the thing which put you into this very position is still drilling into you at top speed, hitting spots inside you that must now be bruised from overuse. Gojo’s “close” means nothing to you, arbitrary and faraway, and what started off as a playful ride starts to feel overwhelming, terrifying.

“Satoru,” you whisper, tugging on his arm. “S-Satoru!”

“Fuck, baby! So close, just keep saying my name like that, keep—”

Even if Gojo hadn’t explicitly requested it, you think you would be babbling his name over and over again anyway because it’s the only thing left in that dumb, empty brain of yours. 

“Satoru,” you whisper, and your legs tense. You try to pull them closer to you, but they’re locked in place, held back by some kind of barrier. “Satoru,” you repeat, and now you’re trying to push away from him, afraid that you’re truly going to hit your limit. “Satoru, Satoru, Satoru, Sa—” 

“Sweetheart,” Gojo whispers in a voice lighter than air, and that’s when you know he’s cumming.

The instinctive feeling is relief. It’s over. You didn’t hit your limit. You can rest in his arms, cuddle, relax, calm down from it all.

The next feeling is terror. It isn’t over. Gojo’s cum is filling up the condom inside of you, and the latex is rubbing against your already-sensitive insides, and—

It becomes too much.

“Satoru!” you wail, and your entire body convulses. It's too much, you're at your limit, this is over but your body is still wrapped up in the feeling of it all. Fingers twitch. Tears fall. You’re shaking and terrified and hurting and you just want this overwhelming feeling to fade, want to go home, want Sukuna—and the only way your body can react to those urges is to writhe back and forth, back and forth, desperately hoping that he'll understand.

And Gojo does understand.

There's a softness in his eyes, a quiet "it's over, sweetheart," that he whispers as his hold around you goes weak and his eyes glaze over with pleasure, but it isn't enough.

Gojo's gentle grip around your thighs means he's not holding you down.

And you're still writhing back and forth, back and forth. 

Something behind you moves.

“Babe,” Gojo whispers, in a voice so filled with horror that you know something is wrong, but your brain isn’t here. Your brain is one hundred miles away, abandoned ages ago when Gojo slid his cock inside you and began fucking you against the steering wheel. 

Oh god, you think, realization setting in.

The steering wheel.

You realize it too late: that your back is pressed up against it, that Gojo’s hands are wrapped around your body and can’t steady it, that the two of you are moving at top speed and the steering wheel is tilting.

Gojo reacts instantly.

You can feel the car break because it throws you forward into Gojo’s chest, and his arms wrap protectively around your back and your head to protect you from whatever might happen. Then, the car slows down successfully. There’s no crash. You feel safe, and happy, and adrenaline is powering through your veins—

And then you realize that no, the car is still moving, your perception of speed has just been so altered that this fast pace feels like you’re standing still, and an awful screeching sound fills your ears as the carside opposite to you and Gojo drags against the highway rails, lasting for long enough that you know this vehicle has been completely and utterly ruined.

Only when the sound stops do you open your eyes.

Only after you open your eyes and realize you’re not dead do you lean back.

Only after you lean back do you meet Gojo’s cocky, arrogant expression, and he’s already moved on.

“We’re safe,” Gojo whispers, and his hands are still wrapped protectively around you, your legs are still lifted up over his shoulder, and the position might be the most uncomfortable thing you’ve ever experienced in your life, but a different dread is enveloping you right now.

“We’re safe,” Gojo repeats, overjoyed. He’s in the afterglow of his orgasm, blue eyes bright with happiness, with exhilaration. “We did it. We did it! That was amazing, wasn’t it? I thought we were going to die for a second, but we made it, and—”

“The car,” you whisper, fear washing over you.

“What about it?” Gojo asks, laughing. There are tears in his eyes, and you realize that this very well might be the pinnacle of adrenaline for him. “Sweetheart, it’s just a vehicle. We just won’t return it to the banquet. The person who brought it won’t even notice—”

“They’ll notice,” you say.

Gojo shoots you a curious expression. 

“Who would—”

And then he understands: why you were so instantly drawn to this car when the two of you were in the valet parking lot, how you knew that there were condoms in the glove compartment, why you were constantly worried about the safety of the car for the duration of this trip.

You close your eyes and pray that Sukuna won’t be mad when he realizes what the two of you have done to his most prized sports car.

“Fuck,” Gojo whispers, and he’s right. 

There's a distant light on the highway, and you intuitively know who it is. There's a sizzling sound coming from behind you, and you know it means that this stunning transport has been damaged beyond repair. The faraway lights of Tokyo flicker at you, almost as if trying to cast you in their shadow of sympathy, but it's too late. Cock still inside you, airbag undeployed out of sheer dumb luck, body swollen and used and bruised, you are absolutely and unequivocally fucked. 

JJK MASTERLIST

Part 1 | Part 2 | ✎ |

Word Count: 7.6k

Notes: fun fact this fic was entirely inspired by me crashing my car one week ago...ig crashing is technically an exaggeration since it was just a scratch but im poor and dramatic so i cried about this for 4 days and getting some dick in that time period definitely would have helped. on a totally unrelated note, i am now broke therefore i will be opening commissions after this mini series finishes!

Comment & Like

Next Update: aiming to get pt 3 out on sunday :)

[lesbian-octoling]

Hey guys guess what <3

[snippyschnapps]

Im going insane theres this one specific botw short comic i wanna look at again bc its cool but I CANNOT find it it was like. A twist on the goddess statue being like creepy and stuff and a riff on the whole “the goddess smiles upon you” thing and there was a panel where the statue was looking down at link/the viewer and it was i think gold-on-black lineart and hhhh i can picture it vividly but i don’t remember the words. If you know it or who drew it pls help

[sleepyacee]

2nd post of the day about leaks and IM BEGGING those of you who are posting spoilers to

a. Please take them down, or

b. Put them on amphibia spoilers and not on the main tag

I wanted to wait but I also wanted to chill on tumblr and just enjoy being with people in the fandom and the next thing I know, I see something from true colors. I screamed for good minute or so cause I was mad. This show means a lot to me and so many others, and spoiling it for those of us who are waiting to watch it on Matt and the crew's behalf, do not appreciate the leaks. Yes we know you are just as excited, but please be respectful to everyone in the community and either take the posts down or just post them on the amphibia spoilers tag.

and to those of us who are waiting, dont just start canceling or harassing people for putting spoilers. Just educate them and/or report the post and move on with your day. I understand you are upset that you were just spoiled, but harassing another person won't fix anything.

All in all, please respect everyone and dont send hate to anyone who is posting spoilers, and please be safe about the leaks everyone!

[freebooter4ever]

i’ve seen the discussion going back and forth on boundaries and sexual objectification, and i don’t have much to add to the conversation other than to say everyone is allowed to determine their OWN ‘lines’ and just because we don’t vocalize them doesn’t make them any less valid. but here’s the limits i set for my blog if anyone feels it is important for them to know (<3):

personally I consider ‘characters’ fair game for anything goes, with ‘public personas’ a little more iffy. ‘RPF’ isn’t new - it just takes on a new more accessible/visible form nowadays. i remember reading my first fic about a ‘real person’ back in my LOTR fandom days - it was a story in first person perspective about the main character meeting orlando bloom on a plane before he was ‘famous’. like a lot of these types of stories, it wasnt so much about the person as it was about the meet cute. the actor was just a convenient placeholder with a handsome face and some personality quirks thrown in to make the romance/dialogue more specific. i personally dont read much xReader fic nowadays, but mostly only cause i’m an old fart who can’t relate to the ‘you’ format. i miss the good old days when people actually created OC’s and then inserted them into things LOL. but also LOL if you think i’ve gone an entire year of quarantine without some imagined personal fantasies of joe mazzello (or steve aoki in the years before)(ramilicious can attest to this. she can also attest to most of these fantasies ending in friendship rather than anything explicit cause that’s just how i roll these days lol). the line i draw is i would never post these types of fics in a place where the subject could accidentally find them - you have to go looking for this stuff on tumblr, most fics are given explicit ratings and under read-mores. with the blacklist tags it’s pretty easy to filter things out. its even easier to add filters to ao3 searches. i am NOT going to do something like message steve aoki and say ‘yeah i watched that movie Ibiza like five times, here is my 1k fic where you’re the dj and i’m the one night stand’. but obviously people still enjoy imagining scenarios like these otherwise movies like Ibiza wouldn’t exist?

for art, i consider anything already on display up for grabs, we all know a certain person’s ass is all over the place...all you have to do is google ‘need for speed’ and rami’s name. HOWEVER, in the case of actors i personally would not draw anything more explicit than what’s already there. i’m not gonna draw full frontal nudity for rami (unless he gifts us with it in a movie, i suppose) or anyone. this is 100% a personal choice for me. 

i was a sophomore or junior in college when i volunteered as a figure drawing monitor where i’d time the nude model’s poses and help them set up the stage and lighting and such. there was this one guy in his mid forties probably, a regular who came every week, and i always thought of him fondly till one day (the day after i ran into my Hot Programming TA during dinner and later sent him an email begging him to go on a date with me because i was desperate for kissing experience)(and Hot Programming TA emailed me back within minutes saying yes) this artist guy who i saw all the time and thought i knew fairly well, decided to draw me instead of the model. which would have been fine except he drew me naked. i was NOT naked at the time, i was wearing a shirt, and a bra, and a full prairie skirt with alternating calico and floral patterns. he drew what he imagined was underneath all that. he came up to me after the figure drawing session and showed me his drawings and told me i had been ‘glowing’ and my response was to laugh it off awkwardly and get the hell out of there as soon as i gave the model their pay check. but inwardly i was thinking a) i was NOT glowing for this creepy man twice my age and b) i did NOT give him consent to sexualize my body under my clothes and then SHOW me that objectification. i never said anything to him or anything else, i continued to be the monitor, and i continued to field off creepy advances from him including multiple job offers, but when i finally realized i could just...stop..and i passed the student volunteer monitor job on to my friend naeem, i also realized that what that older male artist did was NOT ok in my book. and it was probably not something he would do while naeem was monitoring.

nowadays im working in an industry that regularly objectifies female bodies. in the past year alone i have had to deal with requests to make breasts bigger, i have been given character rigs that in addition to the usual elbow, knee, and spine joints also have ‘nipple’ joints but ONLY for the women (to make them jiggle for animation), every time i send out a female pose i get it back with notes that push it further into the sexy type of body language reserved for women (twist the spine more! sway the back more! give it ‘energy!’), i have been told to erase wrinkles and fat and pores but ONLY for the women (men you ADD pores bc realism! and manliness!) and this is all me working for a company that is actually fairly progressive in terms of sexism compared to OTHER studios.

like it or not, sexual objectification is a huge part of specifically women’s lives and how we react to that is our business. for me, turning the tables and putting men on display feels like fair’s fair. i cant stop the men from doing it, so if i want to enjoy sexualizing male bodies, damn it im gonna! like dang it, boy do i want to send steve aoki a thank you note every time he posts a video of himself doing those ice baths during the sunset golden hour bc holy shit gorgeous or working out in his gym wearing VERY little clothes, but i dont because i know what its like when someone imposes their personal fantasies on the subject. or, god, there was that time i had to unfollow nicole’s insta for a while bc i had a very explicit dream about her and realized, shit, i need to take a break and get my emotions under control before i can refollow. and god some of the stuff i see dudes sending her during her live videos on mental illness/meditation is TOTALLY gross and not something they should be confronting her with. and she’s not even ‘famous’ famous. or how some fans send their idols explicit direct messages without consent. THAT feels inappropriate to me.

a part of me feels like i shouldn’t have to defend this. men don’t. they’re even encouraged in mass media to sexualize women. but i also recognize the importance of talking about consent. the importance of recognizing that a celebrity deserves to have their boundaries respected. these are my lines in fandom. other people have different lines they won’t cross, and that’s okay to me. i block or blacklist any blogs or tags i think go over the top.

heck, even in fandom-only spaces i still try to keep my own more sexual fantasies off this blog and only in private messages with my friends and mutuals, and i feel like that might come across as unintentionally prudish or judgmental sometimes. i’m not ‘horny on main’ very often. but like...every time i reblog that particular ‘washing machine’ gif of joe mazzello am i thinking about him naked and thinking about how he’s got very loooooong feet, and ‘gee i wonder if that means /other/ things are Too Big for my tastes’ but also ‘gosh wouldnt that make a pretty picture to draw’???? hell yeah.

i dont know who is gonna actually read this essay but yolo i guess :)

[s0l0b0d0r]

PSA for ninjago fandom

since it have been brought to my attention and bc i saw it more than once too ..

1/   STOP putting NSFW / SUGGESTIVE stuff in the MAIN tag !!!

Listen.. im not your mom and im not a confrontational person either ..  but you got to understand that even if there is a lot of adult in the ninjago fandom, specially the ones that grew up with the show .. there is also minors and ... possibly, even if they’re not supposed to .. kids under 13 browsing ninjago stuff daily ! please if you are an adult in ninjago fandom, refrain from posting suggestive stuff in places where minors can easily reach it .. or at LEAST not in the main tag .. 

im not saying you shouldn’t make such content .. again i’m not your mom, i’m just begging you to not make it easy to find 

---------------------------------

2/   MINORS, dont talk about suggestive stuff, it’s NOT NORMAL !!

YOU THINK IM JOKING ??? this week only ive seen nsfw and suggestive stuff posted in the main tag (tumblr/ insta) more than ONCE and i didnt even look them up, they showed up in my “you follow that tag” and you can imagine my horror when i saw the person who posted it was 16 also kids, if adult within the fandom tries to get you to you about suggestive stuff, please bock and report them, that is not NORMAL !! even if you’re 15+, you might think you’re mature enough but trust me, you’re not yet! 

dont let adults make you normalize that it’s okay for teens to see NSFW content even if they purposely look it up ! and stay safe

---------------------------------

3/   “CRINGE CULTURE”

okay A LIGHTER one for the last PSA, this is not really something i’ve seen on tumblr .. it’s more of a twitter / youtube thing but .. i rather not let y’all forget it .. 

cringe culture is dead !!!  please make fan OC ! Ship them with character you like if you want ! kin characters !! give them the HC you want!  go crazy !  let people have fun with harmless stuff  ! do what you like buddy ! you dont have time to care about what other peoples think !!!

[irkenheretic]

i get it if you hate membrane and i respect ur opinion but posting neg/crit on his tag is just petty.

i have 2 abusive parents, professor membrane is a really big comfort character. i wouldnt calll him a good parent in canon- but still. you had no reason to post that in the main tag :(

i mean i can delete the tag but i thought any kind of post was allowed in a character tag so long as its about the character?

like. let me be clear: im gonna delete the tag. the last thing i want rn is a fight. i just got gaslit (ACTUALLY gaslit not whatever tumblr morphed the word to mean for the sake of a quirky funney meme haha) and misgendered for no joke an hour because mommy wanted to explain to me why she was totally in the right for her rampant ableism, while also freaking out over medical bills

but its clear you dont follow me since you saw the post in the tag and not on my blog so like, you can just block me. its allowed. i promise its allowed. in fact it might be favorable to coming into a total stranger's askbox and going "putting a post about a character? in the character tag? that i dont like? petty :/"

im not trying to change fucking hearts and minds here! you like membrane? cool! i literally dont care! That Post Was Not About You! that post was about a very specific thing: people going "i cant BELIEVE anyONE would see membrane as a BAD PARENT!!! hes so good!!! im gonna make excuses for him calling his son insane!!" its literally two specific people and both of them would absolutely just reblog the post itself and fight me directly on it so i promise its not you. the post is not about you.

im glad you have a comfort character. to a degree the control brains are my comfort characters, so you can imagine the hell im in. i get it. but like, literally in the post i talked about my mom at that moment saying something horrible to me, please have a little tact and just block people whose posts you dont want to see im begging you i am Begging You im on my knees here. please. membrane is a very polarizing character. some people are gonna make posts portraying him as good and some are gonna make posts portraying him as bad and youre gonna drive yourself insane going into the askbox of every single person who does the latter

[dilftraviskonecny]

hello i was tagged by @pucksflying to do this where you answer 30 questions and i have no life so here we go

long post so i’m putting in a cut

1. name/nickname: shelby, people at work call me smiley, i was called chewy in high school (i wish i had other nicknames tbh so feel free to give me one)

2. gender: cisgender female xoxo

3. star sign: virgo sun, gemini moon, sag rising (we been knew)

4. height: around 162cm or 5′3 3/4″

5. time: 11:42pm EST

6. birthday: 09/13/1998

7. favorite band/group: its been the 1975 since 2013 and it hasn't changed yet (im basic)

8. favorite solo artist: lorde and lostboycrowe currently, but i’ve also been vibing to ariana grande a lot

9. song stuck in your head: MIROH by stray kids

10. last movie you watched: 10 things i hate about you

11. last tv show watched: criminal minds

12. when i made this blog: february of 2016 but i joined tumblr in 2013

13. what do i post: on here its mostly hockey with the occasional other man i’m currently thirsting over

14. last thing i googled: how to find out when my blog was created lmao

15. other blogs: i have my main shitposty blog and then a music one that i no longer use but can't bring myself to delete

16. do i get asks: occasionally if i beg for them (send me asks i’m desperate)

17. reason behind my url: as president of the hockey frat boys (i started this trend and i won't let anyone forget it), i needed to choose my comfort frat boy, it is and will always be the chaotic virgo himself, nolpats 

18. following: like 800, i need to do some spring cleaning

19. followers: 1319 (so smol)

20. average sleep hours: 4-8

21. lucky number: 17

22. instruments: i don't play any anymore, but in middle and high school i played the viola, bass, clarinet, and anything they needed me too (trombone, flute, percussion, sax, lil bit of guitar) and i was in choir (we count!!)

23. what i’m currently wearing: a shirt that i got at goodwill from the million dollar cowboy bar and nike shorts xoxo

24. dream job: sports psychologist in the nhl or a school psychologist

25. dream trip: amsterdam, seoul, or going back to sydney 

26. favorite food: chicken tendies, rice

27. nationality: american 

28. favorite song: new religion by the heydaze 

29. last book i read: eleanor and park (makes me cry every time)

30. top 3 fictional worlds: percy jackson (hell yes), tbh harry potter but fuck jk rowling, and the cars cinematic universe (i have so many questions for them)

i’m only tagging ren bc why not but also anyone who actually read through this pls tag me in your answers @patty-wagon-nols