#turns out they make pink light!
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tiger-lily-55555 · 5 months ago
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Art Attack for @someguyiguess23's oc Zant!
I've been wanting to try and draw Zant for a while, and Art Fight gave me the perfect opportunity to. I'm quite happy with this drawing, especially the lighting.
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turtleblogatlast · 9 months ago
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That middle child feel when you’re the one who successfully gets you and your siblings out of trouble only to immediately get jumped by them afterwards
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turboemmy · 7 months ago
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hehe.. surprise ! 🍔
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fightingwithallreality · 10 months ago
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Album of Horses (1951) written by Marguerite Henry, illustrated by Wesley Dennis
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cupids-stimboards · 7 months ago
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day 1 - board based off ur queer identities
event link
🌷 🍂 / 💐 🌃 / 🌊 🌌
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spacerockband · 2 years ago
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iced strawberry animal cookie sound of the summer!
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75screamingtoads · 2 months ago
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It's been a minute since I actually drew Icarus (OC)
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Rambles
I've been listening to Epic the musical a lot since I've been recovering from Covid and I finally have the energy to draw so I can actually put the images in my head on paper
But as I listened to Epic the more I couldn't stop making comparisons to The Rise of Icarus, so I've been imaging Icarus in Odysseus' place a lot (plus he sounds how I imagine Icarus)
And it of course turned into me now assigning characters from The Rise of Icarus to roles in Epic songs
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virtualcoffeemoon · 5 months ago
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( anyone can use as : pfp, background, repost, header, you don't have to give me credit please just don't say you made it ♡)
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ijustdontlikepeople · 9 months ago
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may I ask how you did this edit? it's a beautiful effect and I'd like to replicate it (only if you don't mind sharing, of course). tumblr.com/ijustdontlikepeople/739905108314324992
Hi anon! Thank you!! I’ve always been very fond of this guy and I am always happy to talk about making stuff!
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It’s been a little while so my memory of the process is a little blurry and unfortunately, I cleaned out my project storage last week so I can’t go back layer by layer anymore but here’s the best of my memory
So, it started when I saw this base image and Davo looked very “heavy is the head that wears the crown” and I loved it
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I brought it into PicsArt on my phone and cropped it so he was a bit more centered.
I went through the PicsArt stickers for an “orb” or “light burst” this is the one I used
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To place the orb behind Davo like I wanted I added in another layer of that original photo, and removed the background until I just had Davo’s head
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They should be layered original photo, burst, head, like above. Now you can see some spots in his hair and such that the orb light is not visible through so you go back through and erase bits of the Davo head layer. you don’t have to be too too particular about it bc the same photo of him is underneath.
If I remember right, the brightness of the orb wasn’t as high as I wanted so I doubled up on the same sticker
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I think I one was centered over his left eye and then the other a few inches above it, and the i placed them both back behind the head layer again
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Then added a sticker halo
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Then I moved over to lens flare
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I picked a light orangey one and placed one over his eye, lining it up with his Iris, then blending it with the light setting and duplicating the the layer and repeating for the other eye. I could have sworn that I gradually erased the edges so it faded into the rest of the photo but the software isn’t giving my an option to erase? So I’m not sure if that’s a change on their side or if I’m misremembering
From there, you apply and then go to FXs. (I may have tinkered with some color levels last time before this step but I don’t remember)
I’m not sure exactly which filters I used. I feel like there were two or three. I am about 80% sure I used these with roughly these specifics.
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His face is cut out of PLRD which is done first than VINYL
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So they didn’t turn out exactly the same but this about the gest. It’ll all be a little different depending on your starting photo. If you ever have any questions or just want to talk about what you’re making, my DMs and ask box are always open! I can give u my discord too if that’s easier! I hope this was a least a bit helpful!!
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bmpmp3 · 1 year ago
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e
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wei--wuxian · 2 years ago
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okay. i now live in a world where my old rink no longer exists.
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andromedasummer · 2 years ago
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hav used my birthday money 2 buy clothig :)
#+ leftover christmas money#i have bought a nice long maxi dress in a burnt orange that i will be able to wear in winter and summer :D!!#last one in my size as well i thought i was gonna have 2 pay full price but then it turned out it was half off#and then i got 2 long sleeve knits/tops one is ribbed and cream coloured the other is a turtleneck and dark green#which will look great with the dress#and then finally i got this super cute pale blue thick knit becuse ive needed more now autumn/winter is here#and i want to branch out into light blues/pinks more i look pretty in those colours#dark greens all oranges all browns warm yellows and light pink + blue are my colours#unfortunately reds are very much NOT i look blotchy in them. and any purples are a no go as well + lots of jewel tones#ironically the colours i dont look good in/styles i like but dont suit as much are the ones my best friend looks great in#i.e the black friday stuff at dangerfield the dark gothy stuff the punk stuff etc#i look good in blouses tho just wish they were better suited to having massive tits. because that is a burden that makes them less viable#rip that pretty white frilly button up i almost got my bust was too strong#OH i also used that makeup giftcard to get some new powder for my face and i STILL HAVE MONEY LEFTOVER ON IT#plus i got a bday gift no idea what it is but it looks perfume shaped (?)#im just so glad that with every 3-4 months i go out to get clothes i get a better grip on my style#lets me go back through my other stuff which i like but werent exactly me/never made me look the way i wanted#now i can either sell/donate them to someone who will enjoy them#like that holographic purple shirt i got and those overalls#that i got before i realise if i ever want to wear overalls/dungarees#i will have to make them myself because they are NOT made for hourglass figure tall ppl#they are made for sticks and they WILL bunch around your crotch and be annoying as hell
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vampirebutterflies · 2 years ago
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oh, to be able to accurately capture how a song makes u feel into an artform for others to experience in the same way as a means of deeper transformation connection and understanding
#and a “this is how I perceive this— can you feel it too? can you understand it at all? can you appreciate it even if you don’t?”#except “how it makes u feel” is far less standard emotional “feeling” and far more like#oh this one feels like walking along the road you know well from where you grew up except the sun is setting so everything’s bathed in a#shifting gradient of sunlight fading from pink to oranges to pinky purples to deeper purpley blues. in a way that feels and looks surreal#yk when sunset light just completely changes how everything looks and feels?#so. bathed in that sunset light and surrounded by tiny floating soft silvery glowing flecks that are almost drawn to you but float further#away when you reach out your hand to touch them#the ones you do touch turn more golden and have the texture of. soft silky dust. like flour or tile dust. and they feel cool at first but#warm very quickly#and you’re walking down that street you know so well (for better or worse) but you’re older now. you’re You now#and you can see the world and the people around and there’s things happening. but you’re unaffected by it all you’re just walking#“there is freedom within— there is freedom without / try to catch the deluge in a paper cup”#and it doesn’t feel bad. just a calm sense of disconnect and. relief? and a path. doesn’t matter what’s happening around you#“there’s a battle ahead— many battles are lost / but you’ll never see the end of the road while you’re travelling with me”#you’re just walking through it all#“and I’m counting the steps to the door of your heart”#I’m sure this is an incredibly common and normal experience#especially given this is very different experience to my intentionally curated brainmovies and music videos I make in my head (normal)#this is just a This Is How It’s Always Felt From When I First Heard It#it’s developed with listening again and again over time but the feelings and the core are the same#anyway#I need to go to bed#mercury moments#if anyone reads all this babbling this specific example is sarah blaskos cover of dont dream it’s over#just so u know#free to ​rb the post if u want#shrug. maybe I just feel things too much and. too deeply and too specifically sometimes#iunno
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tonycries · 3 months ago
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We Neva Play!
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Synopsis. Turns out, the “r” in rivals stands for “really good séx” when a mission becomes a little too hot to handle.
Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, rivals-to-lovers, séx pollen, innappropríate use of jujutsu (like a LOT), pússydrunk Gojo, limitless, both are teachers, creampíes, oraI (fem), síxty-nine, banter, breaking the bed, FÉRAL Gojo, pússy-slappíng, BRÉEDING, spítting, reader’s CT mentioned, Yaga’s had enough, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 6.3k (cries)
A/N. Lacked Gojo in the manga so I present to you more Gojo <3
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“Gojo, I will kill you before that curse can-”
“Aw, man!‘ Yuji whines over Nobara’s cackles, reluctantly slapping a few thousand yen onto her outstretched palm. He thuds his head frustratedly against the cool vending machine they were crouched behind, “That was rigged!”
The girl scoffs, counting her hard-earned winnings victoriously, “I told you they wouldn’t even make it until the school gates before fighting. It’s not rigged, it’s common sense - not that you’d know anything about it.” Satisfied, she sneaks a look over the side of the machine at the shrinking backs of you and a too-happy Gojo Satoru. “Besides, we’ll get a rematch soon enough. My money’s on her, double or nothin’.” 
“You really think they’ll kill each other before the mission is over?” Yuji muses, eyes locked on Gojo’s infamous smirk - only widening the closer he drives you dangerously towards an aneurysm. “I bet-”
“No.” Megumi’s deadpan interruption startles them both. And as much as he’d like to pretend he wasn’t cramped with the two idiots stalking their squabbling teachers, he unfortunately, very much, was. “I bet ten thousand yen they kill each other before the mission is over. Or worse - end up dating.”
---
“A love hotel.”
“A love hotel~” Gojo echoes, with a hand clutching faintly at his chest. Swooning over you with each word, “Now, usually you’d have to take me out to dinner first, but for you I will make an except- mmpf-”
Now, Gojo knew he could’ve easily blocked your attack - hell, he didn’t even have to bat an eye to activate limitless. But where was the fun in that? Giving into your elbow digging sharply into his side, he’s only cackling at your venomous words, “I could take down both you and those special grades, y’know?”
“Oh yeah?” he hooks a long finger underneath his blindfold, showing off that infuriating wiggle of his snowy brows. “If you’re so great, then why did Yaga have you assigned with me, pretty girl?”
You sigh, rubbing your throbbing temples, “Only because someone-” And oh, if he had the most renowned eyes in all of jujutsu, then you had the most withering glare. “-completely skipped out on his last mission to stuff his face with sweets, n’ now I’m wasting my time babysitting. So this time, I’m in charge.”
Ah, a woman after his heart - in more ways than one, for sure. 
“Yes, ma’am~” 
Dramatically, he mimics the zipping of his lips shut, readily following you towards the flashy building standing out amongst the bustling Tokyo street. Walls painted such a suggestive pink, neon lights flickering special discounts at passersby - it would have almost been scandalous to be caught outside such an obvious love hotel such as this - if it hadn’t been for the mission, that is. 
“Didn’t think our first date would be at a love hotel.” he chuckles as soon as you reach the gaudy, perfumed reception. And that flickering, wide-eyed stare of the woman behind the counter is enough for Gojo to prattle on, “Now, tell me what room you want, honey-” Throwing an arm around your shoulder, you’re pressed helplessly against his toned front. “-they’ve got candy-themed, anime-themed- oh, they’ve even got a train station-”
“Best to keep our train station fantasies to ourselves-” You simper, subtly stepping on his foot with your own, but that only topples you against him. Instantly, another strong arm snakes around your waist to support your weight, as if second nature, “-isn’t that right, dear?”
And you swear, you could spot a tiny dimple when the ends of his mouth curl even wider into a saccharine sweet grin. “If my memory serves me right, you were the one that dragged me here. Isn’t that right, dear?”
Shivers run down your spine - ones he runs the soft, rounded pads of his fingers up and down along. You’re sure you looked like a disgustingly loving couple to the poor lady working at the counter. And to put her out of her misery, if anything, you recite, “A-anyways- apologies. Room 143, please.” Managing to plaster on a weak smile, it only falls flat when the receptionist hands you your key - and two complimentary condoms along with it. “I- uh- thank you?”
And it’s all you can do to not just shove off the 6’3 thorn at your side when he steers the two of you to the elevator with a disbelieving, “Only two?” 
Though, you’re sure it wouldn’t do much against him, anyway. It never has - because ever since you’d stepped foot through Jujutsu High’s towering gates as its newest teacher, Gojo Satoru seemed to make it his mission in life to get on each and every single one of your nerves. The only mission he’d willingly do, mind you. Insisting on interrupting your classes, hiding you little sweets in your office, pushing your buttons in front of-
“Well, that went as inconspicuous as ever.” Gojo hums, reeling you out of your little reverie. “Of course, it did, thanks to me.”
“‘Inconspicuous’ my ass.” you groan, hastily punching in the ground number for your room. Yaga had said that the veil was already completed around the entirety of the curse-infested floor by now, good - the faster you could get away from Gojo, the more intact your sanity would be. “If it wasn’t for me smoothing things over, she’d be filing a complaint against the sleazy man in a bad Kakashi cosplay at this very moment.”
“Hey! I didn’t see you putting on any Oscar-worthy performances. And my Kakashi cosplay is gre-”
DING!
The elevator doors open to a seemingly normal, barren hallway - not a hair or person out of place - though, you knew better. And as much of a fool as Gojo acted, he did, too. 
His steady arm drops from your side when you stretch out your limbs in preparation - shit, you forgot it was still there. “Watch and learn, Gojo.” you hum.
“Hell yeah, I’m watching.” 
A beat of silence. Two. 
With his thick blindfold, Gojo’s expression was almost indescribable - but your skin prickles with the slow, sultry sweep of his eyes down your figure. But before you can snap back at his loaded tone, it happens- “Don’t fall behind, sweetheart.”
Curses burst out of the fourteen heavy, wooden doors along the narrow corridor - some small, some big, all crushed easily under the power of your cursed technique. And neither of you had to utter a word to know you’d both be trying to best the other. 
You’ve got one slobbering mess of a curse trapped underneath your heel, locked in combat when Gojo calls out from somewhere across the hallway. “Still stuck on that grade one?” Your jaw ticks, pressing the curses face deeper into the carpeted floor of the bedroom, “I’ve already located one of two special grades- better keep up.”
Fuck, curse him and his six eyes. 
Not wasting any more time, you easily exorcize the remaining curse, feet carrying you door after door. Most of the infestation had been cleared out by now by the both of you, splatters of red and limbs lining along the hallway - you only felt bad for Ichiji having to organize a clean-up after this. 
The next time you saw Gojo’s flash of cerulean eyes was from outside another bedroom. Goading, “Heh, need a little help, Gojo?” 
“Oh fuck-” he wraps two arms around the special grade’s flowered horns. Powerful legs bowed, cloudy hair mussed, blindfold dangling somewhere around his neck - he was beautiful. And it was fleeting moments like this that you held an ounce of begrudging respect for him. Ripping those offending appendages, “-off. Roughed up the other special grade for ya since you were so slow, sweetheart - consider it a lil’ gift for this date.”
“Oh, fuck you-”
In the midst of it all, Gojo still manages to flutter his long lashes your way, “Well, we are in a love hotel, after all. Just say so if you wanna get those pretty hands on me.”
“I wouldn’t fuck you if you were the last person on Earth, Gojo Satoru.”
His loud bout of laughter follows you to the final hotel room - 143, coincidentally. It was decadent, almost-spotless - had it not been for the towering curse hunched over in the middle. You could tell that Gojo had been here, because its pink, scale-like skin was already bruised.
You slam the door shut behind you, better to keep the property damage to a minimum. Hastily getting into action - it wasn’t anything new, after years of exorcizing curses you’d grown used to predicting their pattern of attack. But it was only after a pressurized, finalizing punch of yours lands right on the curse’s thumping neck that you find yourself growing weary. Cautious of the tiny, red flower that’d sprouted out of thin air on its skin. Immediately, you think back to Hanami, because it was blossoming - unnaturally fast - petals unraveling to explode in sparkly pollen-
Shit. Your head whirled, eyes watery at the heady scent, “Wh-what the fuck-”
It takes only that split-second of distraction before more blooms pop! pop! pop! all down the curse’s figure. It just heaves with fatigue when they all burst out the same powdery substance from before.
“Fuck- what is this-” your thighs clench together, teeth clenched so hard it hurt. You stagger back towards your opponent, and it seems this last-ditch Hail Mary caused more damage than good. Because the curse was lethargic, barely even flinching when you’re back to pummelling it with your cursed technique. Again. And again and again-  “-if only you’d taken to making perfumes- instead-”
It falls to the ground with a last ringing screech, the flowers withering away instantly. 
But the damage was done.
And you’d never felt so drained - even after your most difficult of missions. Never sinking down onto your knees this way, skin heated, mouth salivating. The air in the room was just thick with something so delicious - syrupy, with hints of pine and cherry - traitorously, you find yourself inhaling deep, addictive lungfuls of the scent. 
“Smells so-” your brows furrow, digging a hand into the plush bed beside you to clamor back onto your feet. “Smells like-”
Gojo. 
Your entire body jolts with something so dark - visceral, gasping when you feel your underwear just drench. Mind such a melty mess filled with only Gojo Gojo Gojo - and before you know it, you’re stumbling towards the door-
Bang! 
The aroma only grows heavier near the door, blood thunders in your ear at the deafening crash from outside. Shit, had you locked the door- 
Bang! Bang! BANG-
Fuck, neither of you were making it out alive. 
It’s the first clear thought headlining through your mind for the first time in what feels like ages - only several, syrupy-slow seconds later does it follow up with the realization that you’re now standing face-to-face with Gojo. 
Gojo pain-in-your-ass Satoru.
Who looked absolutely crazed right now - teetering unsteadily on his feet, his head was bowed, fingers trembling. The mahogany hotel door in mere splinters under his hands.
“F-forgot you could teleport?” It comes out a yelp - pained, almost - and the very first note of your strained voice is enough to have his entire, powerful body wracking with a gasp. Goosebumps pricking along his milky skin, he finally - finally raises his eyes.
Shit, he’s finally lost it.
Because Gojo’s gaze was burning, lids hooded, dark pupils blown so wide that his eyes looked almost black. He didn’t look at you with that usual teasing glint, no, he looked like he was going to rip you apart. Twitchy, drinking in a shaky, drawn-out gasp of the scented air. You almost had half the mind to wonder whether this was some special grade masked as your coworker. 
But it’s real - it’s so, so real and you can’t deny it when he’s baring you with such a vicious grin. Plump lips pulled back to show off those glinting canines, “You.”
“Satoru.”
His lips are on yours - pressing and pressing so hard you were sure it bruised. But fuck- you’re kissing back - because how could you not? The candied seam of his mouth was addictive, breathing you in like his last breath of fresh air.  
“Kiss me-” he spits into your slack mouth, as if he wasn’t already. Two hands surging forwards to cup your cheeks even deeper, “Kiss me kiss me kiss- fuck-” That last little swear almost comes out as a whimper, and you can only keen when Gojo wraps his pretty lips around your tongue, sucking lewdly. “Y’smell so sweet- taste so sweet-”
“Sa-t-toru-” you’re managing out. It just then hits you how weak your knees have gotten, sinking down to straddle his muscular, jutted-out thigh. It makes him throw his head back when you’re just dragging your hips in a long, languid stripe. “Look what you’ve- what you’ve gotten us into.”
Pulling away to lick lazily up, up, up your neck, his teeth bite just at your thundering pulse. “Me?” he hisses out, voice a few octaves higher than usual. “You think I’m the one fuckin’ responsible for this?” It almost hurt - but it hurt so good. “I’m responsible for this-” And his startling eyes sink down to the darkening wet patch on the middle of his leg, your flimsy panties sticking to his uniform. “-am, I?”
“Yes.” your defiant fingers are trailing down the hem of his shirt, ripping apart those buttons in hasty, urgent tugs until it was off completely. “If only you hadn’t half-assed it with this special grade then-”
Gojo huffs out in humorless laughter into your lips - the same one he’d give a persistent little curse, and it makes your hairs stand on end. Wondering how high the kill count would really be. In the hundreds? Thousands? “I thought you were supposed to be the babysitter, huh?”
Millions. 
“And aren’t you the strongest?” A trembly hand of yours ventures its way down his flexing body - down, past those plush pecs, past his flinching abs, dipping teasingly just above where you could feel the hiking tent in his tight pants. “How did you end up this hah- bad?”
You’re holding back a groan at the long, solid inches straining to break free of his thick fabric, you could feel the rapid thump! thump! thump! of his throbbing length under your palm. Fuck, water was wet - Gojo Satoru, unfortunately, had a big di-
“You.”
It’s low, ragged - so quiet that for a second you think you almost imagine it. 
“You.”
His lips are sagging open once more, greedy gaze widening - and you knew it was glowing now. Tiny flickers of blue lightning flickering at the ends of his eyes with every mindless gyration of your palm down his bulging, clothed shaft.
“It’s all because of you.” 
Yeah, you would be lucky number one on his kill count when he breaks - or maybe he would be on yours
Your back is hitting the mattress, and the buttons of your poor uniform are hitting the velvety floor - absolutely nothing against the strongest, who was now tearing through your clothes the same way he was ripping apart those curses from before.
Shit- did he teleport you two?
“Don’t know-” Gojo pants out feverishly, and at that moment you weren’t sure if you’d simply babbled your thinking out loud or whether he could read your mind. “Don’t- don’t know- fuuck.” Low, feral groans crack at the back of his throat with each inch of your exposed skin, and before you know it, he’s surging forwards into the naked valley of your breasts. Breathing you in so filthily, “Just know that I need you- fuck m’gonna fuckin’ kill someone if I don’t-” 
Each spat out little word is punctuated with an intoxicated push and pull of Gojo’s hips. Angrily rutting in-between your thighs until it was just a clingy, syrupy mess of slick and precum between you two. 
“Oh-” your lips drop into a soft gasp, reaching out your fingers to smear a sinful sheen down them. It glosses all the way to your wrist with each newly beaded wave of his precum. 
It feels so dirty the way you’re pushing the very tips of your fingers into your mouth. Gojo can only look - can barely even breathe when you slur, “You taste so good, too, Toru.”
Oh, that was it.
Gojo Satoru had finally thought he was getting control of his sanity - he finally thought the effects of that cursed technique were wearing off. But now - at that little nickname - he feels something snap. The lamp on your right bedside table shatters.
And usually, Gojo’s taunting was tinted with a little laugh, an inkling of fondness in them - but right now they sounded pained. Wrenching out of his broad chest, “Fuck you. Need you- do you know what you’ve done.”
Your useless skirt - along with your soaked, see-through panties - are ripped off of your squirming body. And for once in his life, he’s speechless - eyes almost bulging out of his skull, nails digging into the plush of your thighs. 
Your clothes end up in a pile of sad tatters on the floor, and you felt a strange inkling that maybe you’d end up much the same. 
Smack!
Two, large fingers slap down harshly right on your drooling cunt, slobbering down a glistening coat of your pretty juices down his wrist. “Pay attention.” He’s pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss to your neglected nipples, your stomach, down, down, down in a flurry until the very tip of Gojo’s nose was nudging at your pulsing clit. “Because if m’losing control I need you to stop me.”
The dim hotel lights flicker when Gojo meets your cunt in a sultry, self-indulgent kiss. And through it all, one thing burns into your dizzy mind - his eyes. Maddened, gleaming with slight blue cursed energy in-between your legs. 
“Oh.” you’re gasping at the sheer burning stretch of your thighs being pushed to their limits. Gojo didn’t need that much space - he just loved the way you whined. “You’re s-so much better when you shut- hah!”
His tongue shuts you up by flicking harshly over your puffed-up clit, letting your syrupy juices slide their slow way down his eager tongue. “There we go- good girl, good fuckin’ girl. Hah- all it took was some shitty curse to get you hah- honest like this f’me, huh?” 
“Don’t act like- ngh!” you’re barely able to drawl the words out, which makes him grin a dangerously content grin. Sharp teeth clenching teasingly around your angry clit, throbbing and slicked glisteningly with his spit, “Don’t act like I’m the only one- this way- hah-”
It was true - every hollowed-out suck on your needy clit had him grinding onto the mussed-up mattress. Those silken sheets hiking up with every drag of Gojo’s weepy erection down onto the bed - imagining you underneath him. It wasn’t enough - it never will be. 
That realization was enough for him to break out into a drunken grin, hot tongue smearing open your folds over and over- “Yeah? What about it? Does it scare you that I want to fuckin’ break you, sweetheart?”
He was crazed. 
Dangerous. Depraved. 
“N-no-” you give such a harsh pull on his soft strands, he’s leering up at you with a dragged-out groan. Looking for the life of him so used - you just knew there’d be thousands that would kill to see the strongest so fucked-out, ear blearily blinking open, flushed your favorite shade of pink up to his cheekbones, mouth chasing those thin spit strands to your glossy pussy. “Jus’ think s’unfair how I’m the ah- only one havin’ fun right now.”
You’re shutting up his pussydrunk protests about how he is having fun and to “please, please, please don’t stop” by crashing your soft lips against Gojo’s. Wrenching him upwards, he lets himself be so used. 
“Need you-” you’re gasping, biting into his pouty lower lip. Nosing slowly up his bobbing Adam’s apple, you gasp in that heady combination of pine and candied cherry. “Wanna see if you hngh- taste as good as you smell right now.��
“No fuck- fuck you.” he hisses, wrangling you to straddle his angrily fidgeting hips. 
Running a hand down to fumble with his metallic belt - already loosened. But you don’t have the patience - or the sanity - for that right now, because you’re tugging, shredding. The tell-tale buzz of jujutsu fizzing at your fingertips when you tug down the entirety of Gojo’s pants. Kneading the soft peaks of your palm over that sensitive divot on his head, “Who’s fucking who?” 
“Me.” And there’s another smack! to the heated place of your cunt, Gojo’s own fingertips having you see stars with his power. 
He takes the distraction to just drag you upwards like some ragdoll, easily maneuvering you around. “Turn- turn around f’me- thaaat’s right, fuck-” You’re jostled until your shaky thighs straddle either side of his head, puffed-out pants condensing hotly against your cunt. Your own coming face-to-face with the fat head peeking out from the hem of Gojo’s boxers. Head swimming with how angrily pink he looked, already winking with a drenched sheen of precum up at you. “Arch that cute back a lil’ more- lemme see.”
You’re whirling your head over your shoulders to catch the fucked-out grin on his lips, dragging his tongue out to lap up every bead of your sweet sweet juices, he tilts his pliant head back against the pillows to let it slide down his bobbing throat. “Y-you’re really that pussydr- hngh!” 
Another branding smack! leaves you gushing even more down his tongue. “Yeah, s’what I fuckin’ thought.” he spits out a thick wad of spit into your messy cunt. Gliding his wet fingers over the dripping mess that puddles onto the his chest below. “-can’t even run your mouth- so desperate f’me. Taste so good-” Using his inhuman strength to haul you down onto his pretty face.
Before he knows it, he’s slotting the thin tip of his tongue past your quivering hole. Taking him so greedily, the elastic ring of muscle stretches all around his form, clamping down as if to milk something delicious. 
And Gojo knows - he thinks with whatever’s left of his rationality that maybe he should slow down, take a second to fuckin’ breathe. But, no, he’s making out with your ravaged pussy like he’s angry he hasn’t done this before - way back when he first met you.
A slender fingers pushes past your swollen folds to curl deftly into your gummy cunt, molding up into that easy divots at your walls. He’s feeling around so depravedly for your g-spot, aching to make you feel just a drop of the sheer need he does. 
“Fuck!” Your velvety walls come crashing down around his fingers, knuckle-deep inside your ravenously swallowing cunt. Only getting faster - dipping perfectly to press up against your spongy sweet spots. Shit, he really was good at everything, huh? “You’re so…”
“What was that?” Gojo’s tittering, “Can’t hear you over your cute cunt, sweetheart.”
You don’t answer - you don’t need to, because all the breath in his lungs exhale out in a low cascade. Hiccuping around your candied clit when you take Gojo’s thick, weepy tip just past your lips. Wrapping just around the sensitive slit, it makes him gasp, it makes him keen, it makes him spit out some sloppy swears into your cunt.
“What was that? Can’t hear you over my cunt, Toru–” you bat your lashes, humming around his velvety head. Fuck- if you were in any better state of mind you’d have taken longer admiring him.
Because he was so massive, so pretty with prominent veins thumping at the roof of your mouth. Girthy, rotund end a throbbing red, gradiating into a creamy pink that meshed in delicately with those neat tufts of white at Gojo’s toned pelvis. So delicious. Big enough that you were already wondering just how you were going to walk out of this bedroom - if either of you are in a walking state - or even alive - that is. 
“Fuck- fuck you little-” his mouth refuses to part with your puffy pussy lips, even if it was to talk back to you. “Don’t you dare fuckin’ think this is-”
The new angle has his sharp jaw grinding up into you, jostling your body up and down all over his face. He’s whining - heaving - at this point with every sultry swirl of your soft tongue around his twitchy head. Coating down every inch of your silky soft mouth with a hot sheen of precum, he tastes so good on your tastebuds - slightly salty, with a tinge of something so sweetly Gojo. 
Powers acting before him, he doesn’t even realize it before he cheats - just a little. Eyes burning with power when Gojo uses his six eyes to plunge scarily accurately into the plushy bullseye of your g-spot. Greedy fingers hitting it again and again and-
“Satoru!” your scolding tone has his globular tip twitch ferally into the back of your throat. “That’s not- I can feel your jujutsu, y’know. S-so-” 
“What? Good? Heavenly?” Gojo rattles off. You’re fucking your drooling pussy back into him - you can’t stop the mindless, shallow little grinds in an attempt to meet his mean pace. “Never said anythin’ about a jujutsu ban, pretty- you’re sounding like a sore loser to me.” As if on cue, your cunt is gushing out in more silken sweet juices all down the lower half of his face, squelching so obscenely. His droopy eyes admire your glistening cunt, riding his face to his insanity. “Well- not this cunt, of course, in fact- I think she’s gonna cum.”
He didn’t have to tell you - you already knew, with the trembling in your thighs, and the white-hot pleasure stemming from his incessant making out. Without answering, you only swallow up a few more solid, rock-hard inches of his painfully hard cock, lips stretched obscenely. 
“Y-yeah- fuck, now I definitely know you’re close, pretty girl-” he’s lolling out his tongue to let you drag your pussy across harshly. “Don’t be stubborn- cum f’me,” Rough patches of his tastebuds massaging you just right, fingers still pumping recklessly. “Cum f’me- please. Wan’ it on my tongue- want you- want you to use me- please.”
It doesn’t take long before you’re finally cumming, fucking your high over and over Gojo Satoru’s pretty face. He’s wrapping a free hand around the small of your back, just crashing you back into his drunk mouth over and over and–
“F-fuck, Toru–” you whine, toes curling with each crashing wave of pleasure. It was so violent - so dragged-out, like no orgasm you’ve had before. And you didn’t know whether it was because of the technique or the lazy drag of Gojo’s mouth all over every beading inch of your pussy. Your fist tightens around the thick, heated base of his cock, “Need- need you to-”
“No. Fuck-”
In the fleeting millisecond it takes you to blink, your front is being pushed back onto the now-damp sheets again, a grinning Gojo hovering over you. He looked so ruined - smile gleaming with your trickling, dripping precum, eyes crazed. Suddenly, you almost understand why every breathing thing fears him - almost. His eyes were blazing, flushed angrily. “I’m burning- think m’gonna die if I don’t fuck this cunt right now. Fuck-”
“Havin’ to use your powers for everything?” you’re quirking a brow over your shoulder. “Don’t tell me the only reason you brag about being so hah- good in bed is because of that?”
He’s narrowing his glowing eyes, tiny sparks of lightning flying furiously, “Ohhh s’that a challenge, sweetheart?” Gojo’s sharp canines tug on your bottom lip, and you moan into the messy clash of a kiss - all spit and teeth and the taste of you two. “Tell me.”
“So what if it is?” you’re managing to push back against his slender waist. “Without those stupid powers, m’the better…”
Whatever insult was on the tip of our tongue dies down at the glint of the foil in his hand - the condom from before. That tiny square looking so pitiful held between two fingers, “The receptionist gave me an XL, funny, right?” Gojo murmurs, so dark. “Such a shame it won’t fit.”
One daring glance downwards proves him right - because Gojo was sitting so heftily sandwiched between your swollen folds. Painfully beading needy pearls of translucent precum all over your front - fuck, your cockdrunk self from before didn’t recall him being so large. Big enough that you were sure any rubber would be on the verge of shattering into little pieces.
So then go in raw- you think. But before the words can tumble out of your mind, he’s giving a slow, slippery slide on your cunt, “S’alright- with these ah- ‘stupid powers’ m’still gonna get a taste of this pretty cunt.”
And then you can’t breathe - fuck, you can’t even think straight.
You feel like you’re being split-apart, because Gojo’s just barely pushing in the fat, round girth of his head. Managing to pop in his long shaft past that sensitive slit, before his body starts moving in hurried, impatient little grinds. Frantically trying to squeeze himself in deeper- “Fuck- fuck fuck fuck, even with limitless you feel so good, sweetheart.”
Limitless - fuck, that’s what it was. You could feel the slight pinch of the pressure around your body, the way he was reaching in so deep inside your velvety cunt despite not even being halfway inside yet. 
“Satoru-” 
“No-” his flickering eyes bore deep into yours. “Not that- call out f’me properly now, I know that smart mouth of yours can do it.”
Your words are barely a whisper, “Toru–”
The remaining lamp at your left goes out - cracking into tiny shards. And that’s all it takes for him to push and push in, distantly, Gojo knows he should slow down, maybe give you a second to relax - to think. But he could feel his sanity dancing away with every fucking inch fed into your sopping wet pussy, your elastic walls contorting to massage every ridge and vein of his so heavenly. Fuck- he’d fight a thousand more of those special grades just for another taste of this feeling. 
“Oh-” Gojo’s jaw hangs slack when he finally bullies past that feeble resistance of yours. The very top curve of his head nudging deeply in a glissading glide down your spongy cervix, heavy balls kissing against your ass. 
He lets himself be pulled, used like some filthy toy when your hot tongue cranes to lap up the trail of drool down the corner of his drunken mouth. 
“Wanna feel you-” you’re gasping through each thorough, steady ram into your snug channel. “Wanna feel all of you.”
Another memorable slap! resounds through the heady air, sending sparks exploding behind your lids. “Heh- s’this your way of hah- having me stop using my powers?” he chuckles. “I’m onto your dirty, dirty tricks, y’know.”
Truly, he wasn’t. Gojo didn’t think he had enough of his brain unfried to even contemplate that right about now. But it was just so much fun to watch you mewl in protest, your cunt dripping even further down his twitchy balls with each taunt. 
“Please- fuck m’burning up-” you spit. “Scared s’gonna have you c-cumming early?”
As a punishment - or maybe a little reminder about who really was the strongest, Gojo infuses his next sharp smack on your clit with an ounce of his jujutsu. The curve of his thumb gliding over in tiny circles to soothe over the buzz, “Talk to me when you can say “cumming” without hngh- stutterin’-”
“Talk to me when you-” Growling into the crook of your neck, it’s all he can do right now to bow his hulking body even deeper into yours, kneeing apart your stutteringly closing thighs. There’s a sloppy, milky ring forming where your folds kept smacking repeatedly against the sharp lines of his pelvis, “-can fuck me without your limitless going haywire.”
Fuck- fuck, how he wanted to prove you wrong. To have you crying out for mercy.
But Gojo’s throat drags out in what almost sounds like a cry when his limitless flickers on and off - just for a second. The mere touch of your slippery soft walls around his hot cock making him just slam down an arm on the headrest. It breaks - shattering into tiny wooden pieces, though, neither of you notice right now. 
He’s maneuvering the two of you so easily to push you onto your back. Stuffing your gaping entrance back full again, this time throwing your limp legs onto his broad shoulders to pummel you in such a mean mating press. Just the sight of your fucked-out, pretty face has his ragged breath hitching, “S-sweetheart…” 
Whatever answer you give is tangled up in Gojo’s drunken tongue, lapping at your words. His cock feels so heavy, so hot shoving between your legs. And the stretch - fuck, the stretch was something you’d always remember. Stretching out that tight hole into the very girth of his shaft - all the way down from his leaky, flinching head to the thick circumference of his hilt. “I don’t think I can- fuck, can I feel- please, m’dying to know what this cunt feels like-”
Your nails rake down the pale display of his back, those red, red jagged lines making him rut even deeper into you. “Do it then-”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Oh.
Fuck. 
It’s like something shatters - maybe limitless, maybe his restraint. Because Gojo’s eyes just fall shut in pure ecstasy, aching cock growing even larger inside you - as if that was even possible. Expanding tautly at your walls, he’s forming you so sinfully around his shape. 
“Oh-oh– fuck you feel- how the fuck do you feel so good?” His free hand dips down to roll a depraved thumb over the nub of your neglected clit, catching on your bulgingly-stretched folds. “Holy shit- think m’gonna pass out- think m’gonna die.”
“Hah-” your back arches up sluttily into his around the fifth consecutive time his rough cockhead was grazing so perfectly against your g-spot, fingers buzzing with electricity at your clit. “You’re s-so weak-”
But it didn’t matter, did it? Because all you could do was hiss out a few wet gurgles into Gojo’s mouth, blinking in the sinful sight of him with his eyes so hooded, cheeks burning with a scorching blush, mouth dangling so addictively open while he sucked your tongue. Like he didn’t even realize what he was doing - how each pressurized thrust into your gummy pussy had the lights overhead flickering, sparks of blue lightning bolting from the corners of his mouth at the same sloppy staccato as his hips. How it made you cum. 
“Sh-shit, Toru-” you’re gasping at the feeling of your toe-curling high, shots of pure pleasure running through your body. Convulsing up over and over into his weighty body, “Feels so good- m’cumming m’cumming ah-” 
Crack! 
And then it’s dark.
Hell, Gojo barely even realized when he does, too, shooting out creamy white ribbon after ribbon of seed with a soft, shuddering gasp of your name. And it’s the only thing on his usually-sharp tongue - voice cracking pathetically, when he whines it like a little mantra over and over and-
“Oh-” his five, long fingers splay out across your lower stomach - right where he could feel his own cock twitching wildly at the very bottom of your gooey pussy. Pressing down, hard. “Oh shit- just look at how you’re painted white from the inside-”
The lights were gone out - in all the wards of Tokyo, actually - and yet in the light of the slight flickers of electricity surrounding you two, you could spy the slow, syrupy glob of his cum down your thighs. Coating his hilt in a milky gloss, it sticks to the two of you like a sloppy second skin. “And you expect me to- hah- not go insane.”
You manage out a wet chuckle, too tired to notice how the bed was missing a headboard now. How all the furniture in the hotel room was trashed - as if it’d been slammed down from several feet above. “Hah- b-blame it on the sex pollen.”
The technique has him cumming more than usual, every new wave sloshing at your insides is followed by another - and another until Gojo’s cock felt so raw. Twitching sensitively in a way that brought big fat tears pricking at his eyes, and yet, he still fucks you so harshly into the mattress. Sucking out every remaining dredge of seed in those fat, cum-filled balls thwacking! at your skin. Sloppy. Depraved. Oh, he looked so ruined - like a man that crawled back from death, only to drag you down with him. 
“Oh, sweetheart.” Gojo drags his swollen lips down your earlobe. Voice shot, “I don’t think the sex pollen is done yet.”
---
“Trashed all across the floor, trashed furniture - especially in room 143 - Hokkaido still doesn’t even have power.” Yaga’s bellowing voice has you sinking ashamedly further and further into his office seat. 
Gojo, however, only beams, throwing an arm around the edge of your chair, “Damn- we should really try to send out the power in all of Asia next time, huh, my pretty girl?”
“Out!”
Across the hallway, three first-years eagerly (well, two of them and a reluctant Megumi) peer into the tense meeting. Wondering what exactly happened in your last mission that caused a record-level amount of property damage and the power to still flicker on and off throughout the day.
Yuji is the first one to speak up, “Well, no one’s dead but- why does the air seem so-” he gestures towards the almost non-existent space between you and Gojo - not anything out of the usual, sure, but the one thing different was the lack of threats. “-weird.” he finishes. 
“Tell me about it. That Gojo almost seems…” Nobara shudders in disgust. “...happy.”
And of course, at that very moment, the man of the hour himself turns to look straight at the first-years doing a poor job of hiding themselves behind the door. Sighing overly-loudly, “If you say so, Yaga~” Intertwining his fingers with yours to pull you up with him, “We had a date anyway.”
“A date?”
“A date?!”
“I win.” All eyes - including yours and Gojo’s turn towards the usually-quiet Megumi, his lips turned into the beginnings of a smile. Almost. “You both owe me ten thousand yen.”
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A/N. Hope you babygirls have a good weekkkk!!!
Plagiarism not authorized.
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sttoru · 5 months ago
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⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. you’re heavily pregnant with sukuna’s child and so desperately need to have your specific pregnancy cravings: mangoes. when you realise you’re out of them, you turn into an emotional mess.
tags. true form!sukuna x wife!female reader. fluff, sfw. pregnancy. size difference (reader referred to as small). reader gets called ‘woman, brat’ wc: 1.8k
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you’re crying in your chambers, the volume of your cries overshadowing sukuna’s arrival at the estate. you hiccup and sniffle as you sit in the corner of the master bedroom. there really doesn’t seem to be an end to your mental breakdown.
you’re prone to mood changes because of your pregnancy, already being seven months along. your belly is as round as a globe as it sticks out from under your kimono.
you hold onto your lower abdomen while mumbling to yourself. “not fair,” you rub your blurry eyes with your free hand.
the bedroom doors suddenly swing open. you lift your head from your knees and make eye contact with your husband who looks rather . . . upset. more upset than you are at the moment, that’s for sure.
you whimper as his big and intimidating stature dwarfs over yours while you’re stuck in the corner. when you look up at him, you cry even louder. seeing that familiar face after two whole days of suffering in this place alone gets you even more emotional.
after sukuna entered the room, his gaze had immediately fell upon your quivering figure. he raises an eyebrow as you cry louder once you spot him, the sound breaking his ear drums. he lets out a sharp exhale, a hint of annoyance seeping into his tone.
“enough with the tears,” sukuna grumbles as he crosses the room in a few long strides. his presence is both imposing and protective as he looms over your small figure.
his eyes flicker over your body—taking in the sight of your round belly. he can’t deny that the view makes his shoulders relax, relieved to see his wife do well after two days without seeing you.
sukuna kneels down before you, his eyes narrowing as he notices the tears running down your cheeks. who knows how long you’ve been sobbing? the realisation that no one has checked on you while you’ve been crying like this irks him.
the king of curses will make sure that every single servant - and especially the ones assigned to you - pay for not noticing your sour mood sooner.
“damn it, woman,” sukuna curses under his breath, his words laden with both irritation and a sense of concern, “what’s gotten into you now, hmm? why the blubbering mess?"
you hiccup, gasping for air as sukuna kneels down to your level, something he rarely does. one of his hands reach out to wipe a tear from your cheek, his expression stoic and unreadable while he does so.
“welcome home,” you utter, remembering to greet him properly. you wipe your own tears away and try to explain the situation without it sounding absurd. “i—i went down to the kitchen to get som-something,” you stammer, trying to spit it out before sukuna’s irritation spikes.
“but they didn’t have the food i craved—they’re out of mangoes,” your wailing starts again just at the thought of your non existent fruit. it felt like the most devastating moment in your life when the maids told you that they were out of mangoes.
sukuna’s annoyance quickly dissolves upon hearing your explanation. the revelation that you’re crying over mangoes seems so unbelievable, so absurd, that he couldn't help but let out a dry huff of laughter. an amused smirk tugs at the corners of his lips.
the pink haired man brushes the remnants of the tears away from your face. his rough fingers pause at your chin, giving it a light tap. “mangoes, huh? y’re out here bawling y’r fucking eyes out like a baby for some damn mangoes?”
despite his tough exterior, sukuna knows that pregnancy hormones often amplified emotions, making even the smallest things a cause for crying. and right now, you’re stressing and sputtering over some mangoes.
“mangoes,” you nod and cry softly, watching as sukuna rubs your cheeks with his manly fingers, enjoying his rough touch. you easily guess by just the increased toughness of his calluses that your husband has worked hard while he was gone.
though, mangoes are your current pregnancy craving and not having them meant war to you. it’s all you can focus on—even if your beloved sukuna is right in front of you.
“i need them,” you whine and pout. your hormones made it difficult for you to calm down.
you do, however, try your best to stop crying. you clean your face with the sleeve of your kimono and bite on your bottom lip to refrain from bawling your eyes out for the nth time. “i want my mangoes,” your voice is hoarse as you glance up at sukuna, “please?”
sukuna hates to admit it, but his expression softens upon hearing the hoarse tone of your pleading voice. the view of your tear-streaked face and the knowledge that you’re experiencing pregnancy cravings makes it difficult for him to maintain his usual firm demeanor.
the king of curses sighs, his annoyance replaced by a reluctant acceptance of your plight. “tsk, damn it,” he mutters, lazily resting his head against the palm of one of his hands, “y’re really gonna make me fetch you some mangoes?”
here you are, a grown woman crying and begging like a kid for a sweet, juicy mango. he’s seen you in many states - happy, sad, tired, excited - but never quite as emotionally overwhelmed just for a piece of fruit. sukuna’s large hand reaches out to pat your head in a surprisingly gentle manner, a rare display of his softer side.
you pout at sukuna and lean into his touch as he pats your head. you come up with something witty to say, as you always do. “well, you’re the one who got me pregnant,” you comment in a teasing way, sticking your tongue out at your husband.
no matter what sour mood you’re in, you can still be sassy. though it doesn’t last long before your bottom lip trembles again. “i can’t do anything about it. the baby craves mangos,” you whine as you rub your baby bump to emphasise your words.
you are eating for two people after all—for you and the baby.
sukuna’s smirk widened at your retort and the playful gesture. even in your distraught state, you had the audacity to sass him. damn cheeky little woman.
the pink-haired man chuckled darkly, his hand clumsily ruffling your hair again before pulling away. “‘n i don’t regret a thing. even if i gotta put up with y’r cranky ass.”
you roll your eyes at sukuna’s reply. you know you’re an emotional mess, but you couldn’t care less. anything for your mangoes—those juicy ones that you could eat a dozen of in one sitting.
“the maids said that the mangoes were out of stock in the towns ‘nd villages nearby,” you continue while you carefully stand up from the corner. you’re trying your best to stay rational. you’re extremely hungry and haven’t eaten ever since breakfast. that’s how stubborn you are being.
“but i’m hungryyyyy. want my mangoes,” you sigh and nearly stomp your feet out of frustration.
“yeah, yeah—fuckin’ hell,” sukuna groans, watching you slowly stand up, your pregnant belly protruding like a perfect sphere. it’s a constant reminder of the effect he has on you, and somehow, it makes him proud.
he helps you stand up by holding onto your arm, sharp eyes focused on your body to make sure you don’t strain a single muscle.
after you manage to stand up straight, you walk with sukuna to the kitchen to find something to eat—perhaps some other fruit will satisfy your cravings for now.
sukuna follows behind you, his steps long and leisurely while your shorter strides keep the pace with him. as the two of you walked towards the kitchen, he continues to listen to your repeated mantra. it’s driving him insane.
“mangoes, mangoes, mangoes. i get it, brat,” the king of curses swears he can feel the vein in his forehead throb. you’re lucky that he . . . tolerates you as his wife.
it’s something more than just ‘tolerating’ you, of course. but openly admitting to loving you, even in the slightest, is something sukuna would never do.
if someone would ask him why he goes the extra mile for you, his answer would be that it’s simply because you’re carrying his heir. however only sukuna knows the full truth, the sappy secret he’ll forever keep to himself.
before you arrive at the kitchen, you bump into uraume. they glance from sukuna to you and bow. “good day,” they greet you with as much respect as they do to sukuna. they’ve been doing so ever since you gained your title as his wife.
the king of curses folds all four of his arms over his chest. his lower pair of eyes are still focused on your impatient self, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. he just knows you’re holding yourself back from asking for your active pregnancy craving again.
sukuna clicks his tongue and nods his head at you while he speaks to uraume. “keep an eye on her while ‘m gone. feed her what she wants,” he says in his deep voice, his tone commanding and firm.
uraume remains quiet for a second. sukuna had recently came back from a mission and is once again heading out for some ambiguous reason, but they know better than to question their master.
“where are you going, hubby?”
you of course, get a free pass. you don’t hesitate at all before questioning your husband. sukuna scoffs when he hears your voice ask him that in such an oblivious manner. you should’ve known where he was departing to.
“where’d you think, smartass?” he pinches your nose, causing you to swat his fingers away out of instinct. he gives up on your nose and moves to squeeze your cheeks together in a gentle yet firm manner.
you huff at his antics. sukuna grins at your frown and pout before releasing your jawline with a faint push.
“you better hold on ‘til i come back with y’r stupid mangoes,” he scoffs while turning around to walk to the entrance, “and when i do, i don’t wanna hear ‘nother squeak, understood?”
sukuna seems to have made another mission for himself; find his heavily pregnant wife mangoes before she goes absolutely insane.
your face lights up and you nod repeatedly. your heart melts when you realise that sukuna is actually putting effort to satisfy your needs. he may be harsh and stern at times, but his actions speak louder than his words.
“okay! love you, ‘kuna!” you call out to your lover while he disappears behind the gates. as expected, your words are met by silence.
that’s fine with you. not hearing an ‘i love you’ back doesn’t hurt you as much as it did at the start of your relationship.
you know sukuna cherishes you in his own special way. if he didn’t, you’d be dead long time ago. on top of that, he would not go out on a hunt for mangoes right after coming back home if he didn’t like you.
you know sukuna would let the world burn for you.
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moechies · 6 months ago
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grimy gojo who films his first time with you :( cw non-consent recording on both parties
his phone propped up somewhere completely oblivious, either behind a prop pile of clothes or behind a picture frame on the tall shelf against his wall.
he lays you down on his mattress so gently, lips locking with yours as he sneaks a glance at the camera filming every movement, and every single noise. he peeks a smile before you notice, quickly reverting his attention back onto you before you get suspicious.
whispers sweet nothings into your ear, making you squirm knowing that he’ll go back onto the tape later just to jerk one out to your cute face again. watches you in real time getting flustered by the kisses he’s pressing all over your face, simultaneously tugging off your light pink panties before stuffing them in his pocket. ew gojo :(
gross boy asks if your ready, tossing your pretty legs over his shoulder, having his camera pick up every detail about your soft body below him.
your chubby tits, pretty manicured nails pressed against them, your soft tummy and chubby thighs, and your pretty feet covered in frilly laced socks.
he’s obsessed with the way your socks make you look like such a sweet innocent girl, and going back on the tape makes him realize just how filthy he is getting off to the sight of your cute legs over his shoulder, watching your legs bump back and forth with a view of his fit back as he pumps into your fat cunt relentlessly.
always has the volume on max when he’s watching your first and only tape, listening intently to your mewls of his name and sweet asks for a small kiss.
“kiss, please, toru ? wan’ a kiss!”
“mhm baby, y’want a kiss?”
he teases, but of course he fulfills your wish. what type of man would he be if he didn’t?
he doesn’t even mind when you turn away to not have to bare the embarrassment of looking into him while he fucks you senseless, all because he knows it’s all caught on camera. watches as your expressions grow from pained to pleasure, face completely flushed and eyes scrunched as you try your hardest not to cum early to impress the man. how cute.
and finally he gets to watch the way your eyes roll to the back of your head when you cum on his cock, a sweet layer of heavy slick coating him and his balls all over. watches your tummy inflate when he finally cums in that tight cunt if yours, and watches you desperately try to cover yourself and your face out of embarrassment when it starts leaking out of your sore pussy.
what he doesn’t know about is your little phone under his pillow, the one you had been laying on doing the same, recording an audio of his sweet tender coddles and heavy pants, his moans and cries of your name. the bed creaking gently back and forth as his pace grows, creaks growing louder. the recording you’d turn to as soon as he dropped you back home, and fiddle your clit and little pussy to while lewdly moaning his name.
what perverts :(
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