#v; now our time has come
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adreaminmyheart · 3 days ago
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"Say..."
That thought crossed his mind. Knuckles was the adventurous type, but did that also mean he was another type? The dancing type! He'd never specified whether or not he was much of a dancer, or a singer, for that matter. The feline was curious, always looking for people to dance the day (or night) away with.
"How do you feel about dancing, anyway?"
Obviously he wasn't going to ask to dance with someone who was eating. Didn't matter if it was a stranger, but all that movement after eating could really make you feel a little queasy. Danny already danced up and down the sidewalks, by himself to no audible music. If he were on adventure, he'd probably using the surrounding area to further his dancing knowledge.
There was more to him than that, but at the end of the day, music was his passion.
"All of my closest friends are really into music, like me. What about you? If you're on an island, that means there can't be too many people there. Especially if it's floating! Do you ever dance to yourself? Just curious!"
Taking another bite and the sandwich is halfway. He is a big eater and surprisingly a bit of a foodie, but he never really told that side of him, but only a selective few knows about that. Sonic finding out about that secret was a bit of an accident.
Listening to the cat's rambles really did remind him of his blue hedgehog friend. He is really used to Sonic yapping away from their thoughts and even rambles about Eggman's plan of the day.
Listening to Danny's answer about his treasures made him chuckle and nods. "I can agree to that. I got a few close friends myself."
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charliespringverse · 3 months ago
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i think it should be possible to scream without making any noise or disturbing anyone or inviting any questions . just sometimes . as a treat .
#hhhhHHHGHGHHHHHH#jay screams into the void#(deeply personal rant incoming feel free to ignore)#a friend of mine has just been undiagnosed with bpd which . lovely for them but it sure as fuck invites a Lot of questions#suddenly a great deal of previous shitty behaviour that was excused on the basis of bpd has a lot more to answer for#(obligatory I Know BPD Isn't An Excuse To Treat People Like Shit . im aware . i have bpd myself and i have v high standards re my behaviour)#(however allowances were made bc they were unmedicated & out of therapy through no fault of their own)#(and our whole group has enough experience with untreated mental illness to understand that it can make u a bitch sometimes)#but yeah no there have been a LOT of instances of b&w thinking + manipulation + unfair judgement + high emotion + snap reactions#and every situation Could be explained by untreated bpd and the bad times have never been prolonged or often enough to outweigh the good#but Hoo Boy if that wasn't bpd then what the FUCK was it#like either the new psychiatrist is wrong (possible but i seem to be the only one questioning it) or they're just Like That#and again . not enough to outweigh their numerous positive and loveable traits#but the whole group has been destabilised on a number of occasions due to their actions during a bad spell#and i'm really not sure Any Other Explanation is enough to justify that#ah well . this seems like the kind of thing that will eventually come up during a sleepover heart to heart#but rn i'm stuck in a bubble of MAJOR rsd & brainfuck abt it . which is unfortunate bc now is exactly the time i Don't need brainfuck#anyways ✨ goodnight tumblrinas i am . kind of hoping nobody read this bc i fear i sound like a bitch#i am genuinely happy for their undiagnosis it seems to have put many things into perspective for them & theyre v happy about it#i'm just . uncomfy w some aspects of it that i have only been halfway brave enough to discuss with them personally#That's One To Bring Up With My Therapist In A Few Weeks#Bit Of A Shame I'm No Longer In Therapy And Now Have Only 2 Quarterly Reviews Left Before I'm Discharged From The Service
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whoviandoodler · 2 years ago
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[Image description: a digital drawing of Thomas and Varian from Transatlantic in sepia tones. Thomas is sitting on a sofa smoking, one leg bent and resting on the couch. In his right hand he has an open book and in his left he's holding Varian's glasses. He seems to have just looked up from his book at a new arrival. Varian is lying on the couch, his head on Thomas's thigh, and sleeping while covered by a cardigan. End description.]
that awkward moment when you boyfriend said he'd just lie down for a second and totally wouldn't fall asleep (he has so much work to do, he can't take naps), but now he's been sleeping for an hour and your leg is cramping so badly but you don't have the heart to wake him because he's been exhausted for weeks
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kyuala · 1 year ago
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SOOOOOO hard to go through everyday life trying to ignore the never-ending feeling that im just irreparably fucked up and therefore should just give up on everything
#this aint exactly s******* but it aint exactly not s******* either#anyways it gets even harder when i have to live under the same roof as my brother who is so much better than me in every single conceivable#and imaginable way possible like#and i knowwww a LOT of it comes down to us having relatively similar yet wildly different lives despite being 1.5y apart and having the sam#family our entire lives like he has gone through NOTHING and i mean not a single societal issue ive had to face and endure my entire life#he's a man im a woman. he's white im black. he's straight im gay. he's skinny ive always been 'overweight'. he's always been the good#christian kid ive always had issues w faith and religion. he's never been mentally ill i was clinically depressed for nearly 8yrs of my lif#we both lost the same parent and im the only one who got pathological grief and a personality disorder out of it. he's had a great job for#the last 7yrs that now pays him 20k+ every month ive only had 3 odd jobs my entire life and 2 of those my MOTHER had to give me so i would#have SOMETHING and ive never made over 1.6k monthly n my last job was minimum wage only#he's had like 4 relationships and is nearly engaged im so traumatized + emotionally unavailable ive only ever been on 1 date my entire life#he has a good relationship w every family member we have i have Issues w like half the family. he's always been an active member of our#church i can barely listen to like 4 traditional hymns before i start losing my mind and spiraling. i think the only two ways we're pretty#much equal like socially is that we're both able bodied cis and christians but still the cis and christian thing is debatable for previousl#stated reasons so like. do yall see how much better he is doing than me in every little last area in life and how he's always gotten the#long straw when it comes to Not having to deal w certain obstacles in life. n i know its like yea idk what it actually is like to be him an#he could not be doing all that well first of all shut up. second of all if it was 1 or 2 things i'd get it but it's literally EVERYTHING#and i know bc of said things n our v different lives it's unfair to me to compare the two of us but then it begs the question: WHY#WHY did i have to go through these things. WHY do i have to deal w this. WHY did i get the short straw literally every goddamn time#WHY did i have to get THIS life like WHYYYYY why ME GOD. why have I had to put up w all this bullshit for 24 fucking years!!!!!!!!! im TIRE#and this is not me hating or resenting him i know it's not his fault and he is so good to me#but still. why was i left with these things? to live like this?#so yes i guess i do envy him a little bit. who wouldn't#mari.txt#personal#tw negative#dl#btw i do NOT mean some identities are better than others. i mean he is better and is doing better than me in life partially bc he's never#had to deal w certain social issues and obstacles that come w oppressed identities.
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adreaminmyheart · 2 months ago
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He didn't mind waiting. Even performed just a little bit for some of the locals, though not on purpose. There was a song in his heart, and so long as that be the case, he couldn't stop himself from dancing. He'd just finished the first show of their run here in the Mushroom Kingdom, and he was dancing again! He just couldn't stop himself from music.
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"Oh, Princess!"
He couldn't help laughing, as he quickly made his way over to her. Gosh, wasn't she a vision of beauty? The parasol only made her look even more beautiful, like the perfect accessory for her. A wide grin on his face, he waved to all the Toads surrounding her as well. Friendliness was this cat's middle name. He had so much excitement in his heart, he couldn't wait to see Star Haven.
"I was just entertaining some kids over there! Everyone here is so nice, it's a huge change from Hollywood. People there can be so cruel, for no good reason!"
He could get used to a place like this.
"Anyway, I'm ready whenever you are. I've been looking forward to seeing the stars ever since you mentioned it."
He bows to her, all proper.
"Mind if I be your escort?"
A chuckle.
"Even though you'd be leading the way."
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"You're kind, Danny. Thank you." She took the star comment with a grace and that smile, before departing. Finding the director was likely the best bet to make sure she didn't miss anyone, but she wanted to tell as many people in person as she could manage.
It's probably a good hour or so for her to refind him while he was sight-seeing nearby. How much of it was just further conversations with his fellow crew to actual searching would be impossible to tell, but outside in the sun, she was holding that parasol. There were also a couple of toads keeping her company, but it seemed like perhaps they were on the job, even if she spoke to them casually.
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"Danny!" one hand wave, the other spins that parasol. "Are you still looking around? There's absolutely no rush if so, It's been a minute since I've just walked these particular streets myself." People will see her around toadtown frequently, but she often didnt have opportunity to be a common visitor to other parts of her kingdom. She tried, but it could be hard between her duties and other interruptions sometimes. As such, she was definitely turning a couple of heads on the streets.
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radmista · 2 years ago
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jesus fuck i feel bad for your poor girlfriend. just tell her you're a radfem
My gf knows I hold radical feminist views. Even before we've dated, I've talked openly and loudly about female liberation and sex based oppression, abortion access, hookup culture making young teens think theyre abnormal for not craving sex at 15, my thoughts on shaving, etc. She's even told me that talking about these things has helped her not feel the compulsion to shave her arms anymore.
She knows I'm a feminist and that I have radical views. The only thing I've never explicitly stated is that I'm gender critical of the trans movement as well (bc in general, this is social suicide and I have a career I want to protect). I have spoken about my gender critical views, I just don't call them that in conversation. Like I've ranted about the usage of terms like "boy clothes" and "boymode" to describe comfortable lounge clothing and that clothing has no gender. We've even debated about single sex spaces and even talked about JKR's funding of Beira's place. Like shockingly, we can disagree on things and still be together.
Idk what the point of your message really was. Is it "your poor gf" bc I complain about her very gendie/tumblr-q***r viewpoints? Or do you feel bc I'm a radfem it makes me a bad partner and that my gf is suffering by being partnered with me? I love her and want the best for her, but it doesn't stop me from being frustrated when she supports a movement that infringes on womens rights. I feel like I'm allowed to complain on my personal feminist tumblr about that lol
#the thing I appreciate a lot about her is that she does debate and hold discussion about various topcs with me#but what bothers me the most and just demonstrates how cult like the tq rainbow+ community is is how anti debate she is on those topics#we can talk about sex segreated spaces and mostly agree but then she has to mention TiM's and holds a 'no debate they're women' stance#and her defense of them is always so robotic or comes off as her quoting a stanza every 'supporter' has to say. ev#*even during our talks about abortion in her automated caveat about tq+ people she mentions tims being affected by the abortion ban#like they're not. but including them in everything is the preprogrammed response. and that is at the core of my complaints abt her stances#they aren't actually hers. its just rhe most progressive thing to believe and regurgitate. it frustrates me bc she is v intelligent#but she in general holds many libfem-y beliefs. maybe in the long run our relationship won't be sustainable idk thats a bridge for later#ik eventually I'll have to lay out my thoughts i don't tell her now and see what happens#I've come to terms that she may breakup with me over my gc radfem views.#I've come to terms she may break up with me over my views on the trans movement as she's a big supporter of it. thats her decision#but again. its a bridge for the future. and i will be respectful of her decision. I'm not entitled to a relationship or her love#anyway just rambling at this point. time for my meds lol.#anon#like am i a bad person for not telling her how i feel the tq movement is regressive af. i dont get the angle of this message#sorry if I'm missing the point of what you're trying to say to me
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adreaminmyheart · 1 day ago
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He felt his clothes, his fur, and his tail all get pulled by the sudden wind of Sonic's incredible speed. Almost knocked the lithe feline off his feet! That was unnatural, in terms of what applied to the world Danny knew, but always the believer in magic, he didn't have a hard time feeling like it could be totally normal. It just caught him completely off guard, that's all.
He ran after the hedgehog, and though he was fairly speedy, Danny's speed couldn't even compare to one fourth of the speed Sonic just used. Now he understood, to some degree. No specifics, but if Sonic had a special power like that, there was no question that he was a real hero.
...Even if he hadn't heard of him before today.
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"You're really fast!"
It only took seconds for him to catch his own breath from running. Danny did complex, high energy dance numbers all the time. Athleticism and agility were something he was very accustomed to. All that training, and he still couldn't have even hoped to be as fast as what Sonic had just displayed!
"That act alone makes you a hero in my eyes. Helping people out, those are our modern day heroes."
Then. There was another puzzling question.
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"...Is there a reason why you look... really different now, by the way? Just curious. You are still Sonic, right? Speed, and shapeshifting? I bet that really comes in handy." A pause. "If you are still Sonic, that is."
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“I’ve donated plenty of the money t’ those that need it. So many places are always trying to reward me for what I do, but I don’t need all of it. It can be better used with helping others, ya know?” That wasn’t to say Sonic didn’t keep some of it. Enough for a hedgehog to get by and cover his costs.
Mainly food, but when you burned as many calories as he did in a day, even that could get pricey.
While Danny looked at jewelry, it gave Sonic a chance to think. He wasn’t entirely sure how to explain his line of hero work. How in the world was he going to explain that he constantly fought against a madman dead set on turning the world into a mechanized ‘wonderland’. Especially when it was clear that wasn’t what was happening in this world…
It was something he would have to come up with later as he heard someone call for help. Emeralds glanced around before spotting the runaway cart that slipped someone’s grip and sped down an incline towards some traffic.
“Hold that thought.” A rush of wind followed his voice. There beside Danny one moment and gone the next. Both hands gripped the cart as he dug in his heels. The momentum and weight in the cart now pulling the hero along.
Maybe it was a snap decision, but allowing his body to shift in broad daylight made it much easier to stop.
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The spikes on the bottom of his sneakers doing so much more work. Along with his own weight that he could throw backward. They’d stopped just before a collision but he let out a soft sigh of relief and quickly shifted back to hand the cart back to the owner.
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jvzebel-x · 2 years ago
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🦋
#LMAO I FUCKING CANT.#so missionaries came to my doorstep-- which is literally just hilarious. even more hilarious? one of them was from hawaii.#they ask about my religion&i tell them bc i dont see any point not to&the yt man speaking to me tells me#he was a surfer back in the day so--&this is a literal quote-- 'i went to hawaii&heard it all as a haole on the beach'#remember this is literally entirely unprompted from a missionary who knocked on my door in response to my answering a question#about my religion. so why did this come up? probably the same reason that he then went to on to ask me what would happen if HE wanted#to join my religion&when i answer 'you would probably have to handle that yourself as religion is entirely personal'#he literally stands there w no answer before going 'well our church accepts EVERYONE no matter what theyve done'#&--again this is a direct quote-- 'we have ppl who have done blood sacrifices to their ancestors who have found the REAL god' LMAO.#he then started talking about how the neighboring apartment complex has a primarily east european community?#like with actual statistics bc appartently he just knows that the next apartment complex over is 80% yt immigrants?#not entirely sure how they had anything at all to do w anything so thats around when i stopped laughing openly at him#&told him my neighbors were coming up the stairs&i found taking up the entire staircase to be incredibly rude#so they needed to get the fuck out lmao&the missionary from hawaii-- who had said almost nothing the whole time lmao--#wouldnt look me in the eye while telling me thank you for my time probably bc he now had to continue doing missionary work#w a man who spent a solid five minutes trying to prove im racist&exclusionay as a default#literally ONLY bc im hawaiian v traditional about it&proud as FUCK about all those facts#whiiiiich only made him look&sound. fucking TERRIBE lmao.#anyway its good to know that several hundreds of years later&a move away from my colonized home where yt missionaries destroyed my culture#i STILL cant fucking get away from yt missionaries&their ABHORRENT behaviour lmao.#i need to start checking who the fuck is at my door before opening it.#or at the v least start letting roxy just fucking tear ppl like this to shreds like she wants bc their vibes are so rank#my dog can't stand at my side w/o her ridge going so far up she doesnt NEED to growl to get the point across lmao.
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iniziare · 6 months ago
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Tag drop: Kafka
#tag drop#kafka: inquiries. [ apologies for interrupting your little get-together. but I’m sure once you’ve heard my request; you’ll forgive me. ]#kafka: wishes. [ if you wanna look for some fun. i won't stop you. i mean after all; elio didn't put it in the script; why would it matter?#kafka: stellaron hunters. [ we all have our own individual goals. we may work together; but we work together for our own reasons. ]#kafka: astral express. [ in pursuit of the most dangerous objects in the universe? in that sense; you and i are cut from the same cloth. ]#kafka: conflict. [ looks like we're the ones getting ambushed. / but they're the ones getting besieged. ]#kafka: nessun dorma. [ da capo. fortississimo. capriccio. recitativo. doloroso. leggiero. ]#kafka: beauty. [ beautiful things have one thing in common: fragility. the more fragile; the rarer. maybe that's what makes it precious. ]#kafka: destiny. [ that's the nature of destiny; it creates a miracle but convinces you of an accident. ]#kafka: pteruges-v. [ it was one of many planets changed by a stellaron. it's a shame i never got to witness how far it fell at the time. ]#kafka: bladie. [ … her voice was very gentle. and even the monster inside his body stayed silent to listen to her. ]#kafka: caelus. [ i called out to you and you came. you had many choices; but everything led you here. to right here and right now. ]#kafka: elio. [ there's an empty space in my mind; my heart. changing that part of myself isn't something i can do alone. he can help me. ]#kafka: silver wolf. [ ignoring the rules is something she and i have in common. ]#kafka: v. new babylon. [ i was a devil hunter. when people don't feel fear; they are dominated by desire; pleasure. they become “devils”. ]#kafka: v. present. [ we can only add one gold thread each time but eventually: we will pave the way for the future that is written. ]#kafka: v. future. [ the future is like a labyrinth: every divergence is merely an inducement. there is only one real path. ]#kafka: wishes. [ if you wanna look for some fun. i won't stop you. i mean elio didn't put it in the script; so why would it matter? ]#kafka: little notes. [ the mara's tether is in her grasp. she will not pull it before the designated time. nor shall she relinquish it. ]#[ kafka. ] we believe that existence has meaning; but that meaning is bestowed by ourselves. not by choices.#[ kafka: ic. ] like a spider in the center of her web. it has a thousand radiations; and she knows well every quiver of each of them.#[ kafka: countenance. ] destiny has thousands of faces. why does it choose to wear this one?#[ kafka: introspection. ] it started with sincerity and anticipation followed by a passionate catharsis; with one climax after another.#[ kafka: meta. ] she must have sought something extraordinary. everything she does comes at a great cost.#[ kafka: etc. ] seems i came at a bad time. / no no; i think you couldn't have timed it better. 23:47:15. very punctual; kafka.#[ kafka: bladie. ] i long for you; i who usually long without longing; really and utterly long for every bit of you. [ daybreakrising. ]#[ kafka: veritas ratio. ] does it smell of me; veritas? [ avaere. ]#[ kafka: veritas ratio. ] i believe you have fallen victim to a misconception; doctor. who says it is elio who harbors an interest in you?#[ kafka: caelus. ] everything that you love: you will eventually lose. but in the end; love will return in a different form. [ astrxlfinale#[ kafka: sam. ] you should really stop playing with your food; kafka. / i know. next time. this time… it's already too late.
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adreaminmyheart · 2 months ago
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Hey @lilbluespeedster Dance with me? I bet you're a natural!
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"Hey, nice guitar!"
He wasn't sure about what kind it was, but Danny had never been one for instruments. He could play a few chords on the piano, and that was about it. Where he shined, was his voice. Danny's voice was incredible, to say the least. He could reach low, sultry tones. He could hit angelic high notes. He'd spent his entire life working on his voice. Acting and dancing, too.
"I don't know much about guitars, but I did try to learn how to play one once. It hurt my fingers so much, that little kitten me didn't wanna try anymore. It was more fun to sing! Which is funny, because that hurt too. I'd sing until it hurt just breathing, I just couldn't stop myself!"
He's laughing, very lighthearted, very sweet.
"I'll pay you to play me a song I can dance to! By the way, name's Danny! What's yours?"
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adreaminmyheart · 14 days ago
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"If I didn't mention it, his name is Max. He must have found his way back to Hollywood after... wherever he ended up that night."
A short huff through his nose.
"I guess I never told you, but I'm the reason animals are as accepted as humans now. I just don't think about it much these days, it was a while ago. There was this child star, Darla Dimple. She was beautiful on the outside, conned me good with her kind words, and advice. On the inside though, she was a brat, through and through. She unintentionally admitted to sabotaging my attempt to get animals noticed, after we all made a big show in front of a crowd of humans, which was the success that broke those barriers."
Never mind that he broke the law to make sure that show took place.
"Anyway, as we were making the final preparations, Max tried to kill me. He did injure me, I'm lucky a very close friend of mine is good at fixing up clothes on the spot. I had a black eye for two weeks after that. But I outsmarted him, and sent him flying on a massive balloon so he couldn't do Darla's physical work for her anymore. Knowing him, he'll be back for me."
This time, he sighed, more earnestly.
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"...So I guess I have to really watch where I'm going from now on. I got lucky. I can't count on the same thing happening a second time, he'll pulverize me if he gets his hands on me. You really saved my fur there, Vash."
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Well... that worked better than expected. No fits of rage, no threats... Nothing. Were the people still on Earth really that much softer? Or maybe he was counting his blessings a bit too early?
Teal hues, once wide in confusion, narrowed in a squint that kept a vigilant watch to make sure the big brute didn't trample anyone in that hasty retreat. Once Max was out of sight, they moved on to scan the area for any damage, thankfully only finding some potholes and slightly banged up vehicles. At least no one was hurt. They were noticeably upset, though... The blond kept watch to make sure they would collect themselves and disperse calmly. At least until he heard Danny speak up at last.
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"Yeah, mmmaybe it was a bit much..." The response came cautiously and with a rub of the back of his own head. Having not yet glanced at the other's expression, the feline's first statement of disbelief left a firm weight of anxiety settle on his shoulders. He then turned towards Danny at the next comment with a lighthearted smile. "Really? That is... huh...." Really, he didn't know how to respond to the cat's observation on the boxers, aside from a quick chuckle mostly brought on by a humorous mental image he thankfully kept to himself. There was still a lingering concern, though...
"So... you guys are... acquainted, for better or worse? How likely is he to come back?"
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frankingsteinery · 1 year ago
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AITA for not telling my fiancé I know he’s queer? 
I 20s (F) have a 20s (M) fiancé, V, and he’s been talking about this terrible secret he cannot tell me and he keeps almost starting to come out and then backing out. The issue is V and I were raised together by his parents, and my surrogate 40s (M) father and (now deceased) surrogate mother arranged for our marriage back when we were both children. They thought it was the best for us and at the time we were too young to realize the implications and had no reason to reject to the match. When we were teenagers our mother was on her deathbed and she told us again that she wished for us to marry, and of course we both agreed. However, V is also best friends with a 20s (M) guy called H, and they were nearly inseparable as boys and teens. They also went to university together and shared an apartment but V had to come home due to family reasons. Lately he’s been going out all day and coming home at night hours later. He insists that he’s fine and that we all leave him alone and not worry for him, but I think he and H have been sneaking around. He even delayed our wedding day by arranging a trip to go to England alone with H. It’s exhausting for all of us and I think I should just tell V I know and support him and that we can call off the marriage, but I’m not sure that’s the best course of action? I’m completely fine with not marrying him - he always felt more like a brother to me anyway - but I worry it might come off wrong. The worst part is he’s really beating himself up about it. He’s so guilty it’s beginning to take a toll on his health. I don’t care if he has a boyfriend I just want him to be happy.
EDIT: nvm he built an 8ft creature in his dorm
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gojonanami · 7 months ago
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❝ 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐔𝐏 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔 !! ❞
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❝ WHEN YOUR EX HUSBAND FINDS OUT YOU'RE DATING AGAIN, HOW DO YOU END UP FUCKING HIM IN YOUR BED ?? ❞
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✧ pairing: ex-husband!satoru gojo x f!reader
✧ summary: satoru gojo is the man everyone wants, except you -- well you married him and you wanted him, but when he pushed you away after you had your daughter, you had no choice but to divorce him. so what happens when he comes to pick up your daughter for his weekend, and he finds you ready for a date? and how is it you always end up under him?
✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, so much smut, exes to lovers, modern au! (no curses), gojo is a CEO of a company, gojo has a daughter with you, divorced, some angst, switch! gojo, nipple play, oral (f + m), fingering (f! receiving), handjob (m! receiving), semi public sex (near entryway), semi exhibitionism, sex (p in v), creampie, swearing,
✧ wc: 8,271
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“You were supposed to be here at 6:00 PM,” 
Satoru Gojo stood in your doorway, as opposed to splashed on the covers of magazines and countless front page articles — you would think it would be business magazines, but you would only be partially correct — he made the covers of business, fashion, health, entertainment, and even a few women’s magazines. 
And what every single one had made apparent in their colorful print was that Satoru Gojo was anyone’s ideal man — the CEO of the wildly successful Six Eyes Corp, a philanthropist in his free time spent mentoring children and teenagers through establishing proper programs, and he was flawlessly beautiful — ocean blue eyes you could drown in, porcelain skin seemingly without a blemish or scar, and pretty lips that were a weapon when curled in a smirk. 
Just as they were now. 
“Well,” he smirks, leaning against your door frame, “I’m sure it’s 6:00 PM somewhere,” 
“Well, I’m not concerned with somewhere else since you daughter exists here, not elsewhere,” your words lacked their usual bite, only tinged with annoyance rather than cutting anger, “but good thing I told you to be here an hour and half earlier than I needed you,” 
Needed him as just as you did before you had divorced — just as you asked him to be. But he only grew more distant by the day — and soon he was already out the door when you had served him with divorce papers. 
And now, you can almost forget how it used to be — your eyes catch sight of the picture on your mantle of the two of you with your daughter, Satoru’s lips pressed to your cheeks as yours were pressed to your little angel — almost. 
He gapes at you as you walk inside, as he follows behind you, the click of the door closing overshadowed by the sound of his voice. 
“How could you lie to me, sweetheart? Thought we had a bond of trust,” you don’t have to look back at him to know he has a pout on his lips that would quickly melt into a grin if you conceded. 
“Bond of trust ended when you showed up two hours late to pick up our daughter,” and he grumbles, cheeks tinged with pink. 
“That was one time! I’m never that late. And it’s only on a Fridays when I have—“ 
“Meetings all day,” you finish with a sigh, “I know, Gojo, I know it’s not on purpose — but I know you’re always late on Fridays so I found a solution,” your lips curl, “anyway, our girl is napping still, so give her a bit before you wake her, but you can stay here until she does,” you’re shrugging off your bathrobe, littered with flecks of makeup, only to have a gorgeous black dress underneath. 
One that he very much hadn’t seen before — and he would know, he’s explored every centimeter very intimately of each one of your dresses, but this is new. His eyes skim down the exposed skin of your thighs — very new, but very familiar. 
He’s running fingers through his hair, not bothering to hide how his gaze rakes over his body, “Special occasion? Don’t tell me your birthday suddenly moved months, or I forgot our anniversary,” 
You scoff, as you pick out earrings from your jewelry box,  “Does an anniversary count when you’re divorced?” you can’t hide the hint of bitterness in your voice, and he’s stepping closer as you look in your vanity to put your earrings on, only to meet his gaze in the mirror, deep blue sucking you in as it always does. 
“But you’ll always be mine,” and you roll your eyes, expecting a cheeky grin, but find genuine longing in his expression, before it's hidden away behind a frown, “but you still haven’t told me where you’re going, sweetheart,” 
A sigh stuck in your throat, ignoring the use of your usual pet name that he had lost the rights when the ink dried on your divorce, as your teeth graze your bottom lip, “I have a date tonight,” 
He tilts his head, “A date?” and you can already hear it in his voice — ice creeping over usually still waters, “who’s the lucky guy? And do I get to meet him?” 
“And have you scare him off?” And he only grins in reply, hands slipping into his pockets. 
“If he’s intimidated by me, isn’t that more on him than me, sweetheart?” His footsteps only grow closer, as you turn to look at him, his hand on the wood of your vanity, nearly caging you in on side, “after all, he may be your date, but I’ll always be your husband, and the father of our daughter,” 
You didn’t know whether you wanted to kiss him or slap him — slapping him was self explanatory, but the want to kiss him was a lingering feeling, one that you couldn’t shed — no matter how much time passed. But that was the thing about Satoru Gojo — it was easy to fall in love with him, but even harder to fall out. 
And a part of you could never admit to yourself that you never did. 
No matter how hard you try.
“You haven’t been my husband for a year and half now, Gojo — a year legally now,” 
And he’s changing tactics, “You still haven’t answered my question, who are you going on a date with?” And you already can feel the beginning of a headache throbbing in your forehead, and you know why no one could say no to Satoru Gojo — because you’re sure he’s never understood it. 
“Why do you need to know?” And he's tilting his head, a small scoff parting his lips. 
“I need to know who you're potentially bringing home, don’t I?” and he’s far too close, and you don’t know why you’re not pulling away — his breath warming your skin, as he drags a finger down your cheek, “The man who might step foot in our home, might meet our daughter,” and his thumb brushes over your lips, “might kiss my wife—“ 
“Gojo—“ 
“Satoru,” he corrects you. 
You rub at your temples — yup, you definitely have a headache now. You brush past him, heading to the living room to pick up some of the mess, hoping your ex would somehow fall and hit his head on the doorframe and forget this conversation.
“And this dress?” Ah, no such luck, “did you buy it for the date?” 
“Do you keep a catalog of my wardrobe?” you scowl as you pick up the strewn about toys and things to collect into your daughter’s toy bin, and he’s bending down too to pick up your daughter’s things in his hundred thousand yen suit. 
“So you didn’t deny it,” and you sigh again, but grit your teeth all the same, his sharp words finely grating on your nerves. 
“This isn’t a business negotiation, you don’t win just because you use my words against me,” you stand up after picking up the last of the things, “yes it’s a new dress, and yes I bought it for the date since this is my first date in years, happy?” 
“Thrilled,” he says flatly, and you know it’s not the end of the discussion, “remember our first date?” 
And how could you forget? But you decide to humor him, if only for a break from the interrogation. 
“Which one? Because one was a date, and the other—“ 
He raises an eyebrow, “It was a date too, I asked you out—“ 
“You asked me to hang out—“ 
“And we kissed—“ 
“Only because I told you how I felt first—“ and he smirks again and you know you’ve dug yourself into a hole, cheeks burning at his stupidly smug face, “shut up,” 
“And what did you say again?” He slips the things you have in your hands into the toy box, his fingers brushing yours, and his touch is the same as you remember, even the barest brush was enough for your traitorous soul to yearn for more. 
“You know what I said,” his lips curl, the same smile he had given you all those years ago that made you fall for him in the first place, but his raise of his brow tells you he’s not going to let it go until you say it, “I told you that I liked you for a long time, and I was tired of waiting for you to make the first move. Because maybe by then it would be too late,” and his fingers brush against your cheek, featherlight — just as the bunches of butterflies that bloom in your stomach. 
“And you say that wasn’t a date,” and you scoff, biting back the small smile on your lips, “will any other first date compare to that?” 
“Gojo—“ 
“Satoru,” he corrects, and you know his brow is furrowed without having to look at him, “do you have to call me by my last name—“ 
“I do, because Satoru was my husband, and Gojo is my ex—“ 
“I’m still your husband—“ and you give a bitter chuckle. 
“In what world? We’re divorced, it’s over,“ 
“It doesn’t have to be,” 
“But it does. This isn’t me confessing to you on a movie night curled up on my twin bed. This is my ex-husband asking me to give him another chance far too late,” you slip past him, but he follows behind anyway, as you stand near the entryway to your home,  “it’s time to move on,” and you’re stepping from your bedroom and only reach the doorway when he speaks. 
“How can I move on when I never wanted to?” You still yourself in your tracks, fingers curling into a fist. 
Not this right now. Not now. “Gojo—“ you sigh. 
You’re so tired. You were hoping you wouldn’t have to have this conversation. You never had expected to have this conversation, not when you wanted to only marry one man your entire life was the one to break your heart. 
“It's almost two years too late for this conversation,” you willed your voice not to break — not when your heart was long broken by him, and you wouldn’t allow him to do it again, “you should have had it with me before I filed. When I asked you to spend your time with us, when I asked you to take time off, when I asked you to be present in our lives—“ 
“Sweetheart-“ and you snap. 
“Don’t call me that,” your quiet words hang in the silence, the wedding bells he heard in his head were nothing more than the sounds of bells drowning out the mourners screams, “don’t call me that when you don’t get to anymore,” 
“I’ll always be yours, sweetheart, a few papers don’t change that,” and he’s stepping towards you, but you’re rooted to your spot, and you want to say it’s stubbornness, but you know what it really is —weakness, because Satoru Gojo was your one and only weakness. And even now, walls raised and erected against him came tumbling down with one touch. 
Because he knew exactly where to touch and what to say. 
“Do you think any other man could please you the way I can? I know every place, every sound, every inch of you — inside and out,” he’s nearly against your back now, “are you going to let a stranger do that? Let them learn how to please you, but knowing your husband knows how to do it better,” 
“Ex-husband,” and he’s leaning down to press a kiss to your bare shoulder, “we shouldn’t—“ 
“And yet you’re letting me,” his nose brushes against the soft skin of your neck, warm breath sending a shiver down to the tips of your toes, and his words sending a wave of need right to your core, “because you know it’s true,” his hands tentatively brush against your hips and when you don’t resist, he squeezes, drawing a gasp from you, lips curled in a smirk, “more sensitive than usual, Princess? Been too long?” 
“I swear to god—“ he’s cutting you off with a bruising kiss, a rubber band snapping back against your skin, and now it’s taut against you, ensnaring you in its grasp. And yet, his kiss is so sweet, affection dripping from the slide of lips to the caress of his fingers against your cheek, and it reminds you of just why you don’t want to let go. 
“You don’t have to swear yourself to me, but I’d appreciate it, Princess,” and his mouth reminds you of the reason you (and that you don’t). 
“Gojo—“ and he’s placing more kisses along your jaw now. 
“Shouldn’t you at least call me Satoru now that we’ve kissed?” 
“You’re impossible—“ 
“And yet I’m here,” his teeth nibbles at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, tongue flicking over the blooming love bite, “almost forgot how sweet you taste,” he’s humming, as he kisses along your shoulder before he toys with the strap of your dress, “almost,” his large palms slide down your body, skimming your bare thighs as he’s pressing you against the walls, “but your skin isn’t what I want to taste,” 
You gasp, “we can’t—“ but why were you letting him? Irritation overrode by lust, and he knew the spots to make you bend to him, his hands squeezing your hips, “fuck you,” you wonder if his touch are phantoms engraved against your skin and muscles, forced to repeat the same patterns again and again — and a hand slides back up to cup your cheek. 
“That’s what I’m trying to do, sweetheart,” his lips find yours again, his tongue dragging against the seam of your lips, before slipping inside. His hand is lifting your thigh around his waist, as his lips part from your own, eyes raking over your pretty, bitten red lips, “do you know how much I missed you?” 
“No, I don’t,” and his smile slips from his lips, as he cups your chin, “Satoru—“ 
“Even all the days I was gone, there wasn’t a second I didn’t think of you,” you waver a moment at the sadness rippling through his gaze, “I know I wasn’t there—“ his lips press a kiss to your forehead. 
“Why weren’t you?” 
And that’s when there’s a knock at the door that makes your heads snap over to stare at the door a good four or five feet from you, the shadow of feet visible through the crack at the bottom of the door, and you were sure it was your date. 
“Fuck,” you whsiper under your breath, “you have to go—“ your palms pressed flat against his chest, but Satoru doesn’t budge, “please, I have to get the—“ 
And his hand is slipping up and under your dress, hiking the material higher, “do you really want to go on your date like this, sweetheart?” His fingers graze your soaked panties, a gasp pulled from your lips, lithe fingers rubbing and pinching your clit through the thin fabric, “gonna go see him when you’re this wet?”
“Please—“ and his fingers snap the elastic of your underwear against your skin, drawing a squeal from your mouth, “fuck—“ 
“Any louder, Princess, and he might hear us,” he’s leaning down to press his forehead to yours, forcing your gaze to meet yours, “but maybe I should let him, let him know who’s the only one who can make you feel this good,” his words only make your cunt flutter, as if your body was in agreement, even if your mind was still in denial, “you’re much more honest down here, Princess, but you always were,”
Another knock as your attention is being tugged only for him to yank it back as his finger slips inside you. You’re burying your face in the crook of his neck to stifle your moans — his fingers were so much longer than yours, reaching places you could only have dreamed of — when you had dreamed of him. 
His finger squelches as he fucks you open, walls squeezing around him as your molten insides cling to his touch desperately. Small whines and pants are muffled against your hand as you clamp it over, your phone vibrating uselessly with your date’s messages inside your purse. 
“Please, Satoru let me—“ and he’s ripping your underwear, as he’s forcing your dress higher, “I have to tell him—“ 
“Tell him what?” His eyes are nearly glowing in the dim light of the fluorescents leaking in from the living room, “tell him you’d go on your date with him but you’re too busy being finger fucked by your husband?” And he’s sinking another finger into you, making your head loll back against the wall, “tell him that you’d let him fuck you in our bed, but you’re too busy letting me?” 
“Sa-toru—“ you’re biting back your whines, glancing at the door, but he’s forcing your gaze back to him, his thumb pressed against your chin, “just let me—“ 
And he’s turning you in front of the mirror near the entryway, forcing you to look at yourself — your lips kiss bitten and ruined, your dress hiked up and mussed, and underwear tugged down to your ankles. 
“Do you want him to see you like this?” His breath is hot in your ear, a soft murmur that makes your knees nearly buckle, “want him to see you how much of a mess I’ve made you?” His fingers sink into you again, a third finger with the other two. The lewd squelch of your cunt rings in your ears, your eyes catching sight of your own moans and pants in the mirror, your walls squeezing around them, “I’m the only one who gets to see you like this, sweetheart, and now you can watch too,” he’s guiding your gaze back to watch yourself, watching him knuckle deep in your sweet cunt, “gonna make you watch your tight pussy break my fingers,” he spreads his fingers inside you, letting you watch your slice drip down his fingers and wrist and splatter on the floor.
And your head falls back against his shoulder — he’s thrusting into you faster, your walls working deeper and deeper into you — fingers curling against your molten insides, until he’s finding that one spot that has your lips falling open, “I’m so—” your voice is a broken whisper, and he’s pressing a kiss to your jaw, “Please—“ 
“Cum f’me baby,” his thumb rubs at your clit, and you do, walls clamping down as you cum, his fingers relentless as they fuck you through your orgasm, a wordless moan of his name on your lips. He’s holding you up as he does, your body buckling under the pleasure, blood roaring in your ears that slowly ebbs away, as his fingers slow, and you’re shuddering under his touch, “good girl,” and your walls flutter as he pulls out as if they want him to stay, and he’s tilting your gaze, “watch,” your eyes open reluctantly, a small moan on your lips as you watch him carefully each one of his fingers clean, pink tongue darting out to lick at the trails of your juices that had dripped down his palm and wrist, “still the sweetest thing I’ve had, princess,” 
And there’s another knock, as he clicks his tongue, “Doesn’t give up does he?” and he’s pressing a kiss to your neck, “must have really done a number on him and he’s willing to wait this long for you, huh?” he hums, nuzzling the hollow of your throat, “but I can relate. So, should I let him down for you?” 
Your eyes fly open, meeting his cheeky gaze with a glare, “Don’t you fucking dare,” 
“What? You still want to go out with him? Be my guest, but,” and he’s pulling at your ruined underwear until they rip under his touch, “can’t wear these, can you?” you gape at him as he pockets the ruined panties with a shit eating grin, “for later,” and you’re scoffing, and you hear a call of your name through the door. 
And you take a better look at yourself — completely disheveled and marked up along your neck from his kisses and nips, your skin shiny with a sheen of sweat, and your lips obviously bruised and bitten from his treatment. 
“Fuck,” you can’t go out like this — it looks as if you’d spent the morning before getting ravished, panic sets in as you hear his voice through the door. 
“Want me to send him on his way?” Satoru’s hands curl around your waist, “our angel’s still fast asleep, and that means we can spend some time together—“ 
“Fuck off,” you hiss, walking over to the door, “Atsuya, I’m sorry I can’t go out today. I’m not feeling well,” 
“Eh? Are you okay? Do you need anything?” And Satoru steps forward to speak but you cover his mouth with his hand. 
“No, I’m fine, but I have the flu and I’m still contagious, so I don’t want to get you—“ Satoru drags his tongue between your fingers — this fucker, “sick,” 
“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay and take care of you?” Satoru’s hands are dragging over your sides, squeezing your far too sensitive hips. 
“Hear that?” Satoru’s whispering to you between the gaps of your fingers, “He wants to take care of you. Should you let him? Maybe he could fuck you better in the home we bought together and in the bed we shared,” 
“No, I’m fine, really, I-I—“ and Satoru’s sucking at your finger, tongue curling around the digit, and you grit your teeth, “I’m going to rest. I’ll text you later, I’m sorry—“ and you don’t get to hear the rest of what he says, as Satoru’s pulling your hand away, and finding your lips in another kiss. 
You hate how good this man is at kissing, his lips and touch must have the ability to leech sense from your brain, and leave lust in its place. 
“What’s wrong with you?” you mumble against his lips, as his lips burn a trail of kisses down your jaw, a smirk against your skin. 
“Nothing’s wrong with me, except that I love you,” he’s pouting again, “you think that guy could please you the way I could?” 
“No, but maybe he would actually be there,” you bite back and his kisses pause, smirk slipping into a frown. 
“I know I’ve made mistakes—“ 
You give a bitter chuckle, “Mistakes? You left us,” 
He opens and closes his mouth, “you’re right I did, and I’m sorry,” his words are slow, but so is the anger building inside you, “but I’m asking for a second chance, begging for one more chance—“ 
You finally turn to face him, and you can only hope the tears welling in your eyes weren’t noticeable, “You don’t get to beg, when I already did,” your voice finally breaks, as your clenched fist shakes, “where were you? After our daughter was born, you were gone. You kept saying you would make time for us, you would be there for us, but you just busier and busier, and the only time I’d see you were the nights you made it home to crawl into bed,” 
“I—“ 
“No, I’m tired, I’m tired of waiting and being upset, I’m so done—“ and he’s pulling you into his arms, and the familiarity of his grasp is nearly enough for your defenses to crumble, but you can’t, “Satoru” 
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I know I did wrong. I know I don’t deserve you or our baby, not after all I did,” he’s murmuring, “but it was never because of you or her,” 
Tears spill from your eyes, streaming down your cheeks, “I used to cry, thinking that not only that I wasn’t enough, but your daughter wasn’t enough either—“ 
“You weren’t the ones that wasn’t enough,” he cuts you off, “I am,” the last words come out a whisper, as he runs fingers through his hair, “I’m the one who wasn’t good enough,” 
You stare at him, “What do you mean?” 
He’s scrubbing a hand down his face, “I don’t know how to be a husband, much less a father. I didn’t think I even wanted to be either, until I met you,” his voice softens, “and then I wanted it all if it was with you,” 
“Satoru—“ and he’s shaking his head. 
“I thought I could handle it — but when I saw you two — the two most important people in my life — how much you were counting on me, how much you needed me to not fail — I threw myself into work,” he’s swallowing, “I thought if I could support you both, things would get better. But it only made things worse because I pushed myself away,” 
“Why?”
“Because I thought I’d mess it up — I don’t know how to be a father. I didn’t even know I wanted to be a husband until we got married,” and you swallow, “I thought I never would after watching my dad neglect and abuse me and my mom,” you knit your brow together, “and there were so many nights when you were sleeping, I got so frustrated with our angel. She wouldn’t sleep, she screamed for hours, and I just felt like I had failed her. And I would just fail you too,” he scrubbed a hand down his face, “so—“  
“So you ran away,” you finish, voice caught in your throat. 
He gives a curt nod, “And when you filed, I knew it was coming, but I thought you both would be better off. I thought even if I was miserable, it would be worth it to see you two happy—“ 
“Satoru, do you think I would be happy without my husband?” Your sigh stuck in your throat as your fingers find his cheek, featherlight, but he crumbles and melts against it, as if he was a statue made to wait for your touch, “you’re nothing like your father. I see you with Satomi, I see how much you love her — you dote on her, you know what she likes — she gets a cut and you’re panicking,” you chuckle as he huffs, a cute blush settling over his cheeks, “and you were a good husband, when you talked to me and didn’t run away,” 
“I know,” and the question unspoken hangs in the air, “can I be again? Your husband,” and your instinct is to pull him into your arms, where you wanted him to be, where you always wanted to be, but your instinct is tangled in fear, barbed wire dragging you down and digging into your skin. 
“I want you to be,” his eyes light up, hope flicking across his gaze like a comet tail, until it burns out with your next words, “but I’m scared,” you swallow, arms crossed, hoping if you physically hold yourself maybe you could hold yourself together, “I don’t want to get hurt again,” 
“I won’t, I promise,” he’s cupping your cheek again, and you find yourself leaning into his touch, “every night I only thought of you and Satomi — there’s no one else that matters,” he’s drawing closer again, it makes you want nothing more than his touch again — it had been too long — too long without him. 
And your lips find his again, it’s a chaste kiss at first, a breath shared a centimeter apart, as his eyes find yours, brow furrowed, “We have a lot to talk about,” you murmur, as your lips graze his again, and he’s chasing your lips, “but it’s going to take time,” God, you want to kiss his knowing pout away, as you drag a thumb down his lips, “a lot of making up to me and our angel,” He’s nodding obediently, a complete puppy under your touch, as he shivers as your fingers run through his hair before tugging, “are you ready for that?” 
“Yes, baby,” he’s biting his lip, fingers twitching wanting to touch you. 
Your lips curl, “Good boy.” 
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“All that big talk and now look at you, Toru,” Satoru’s white knuckled fingers fisted at the sheets of your shared bed, as your own fingers teased the head of his leaking cock through his boxers, “such a mess for me,” 
You kneel at the foot of your bed, settled between his thighs, and though you were on your knees, you were the one who held the power. Fingers tracing the trigger right within your grasp, his cock twitching against your hand. 
“Please, sweetheart, fuck,” he’s hissing when your lips lean down to press a kiss to his clothes weeping slit, the wet heat of your mouth seeps through, making him twitch against your touch — a spark of need that burns against his skin and boils his blood underneath with need, “please, don’t tease me,” 
“Well that’s not fair,” you hum, as your fingers toy with the elastic of his boxers, snapping the elastic against your skin, sending a shiver up his body along with an ache that reaches his bones — and he wondered how he had let your grip on him grow this deep — and how he had ever let it go when it felt this good, “when you’re being teased I’m supposed to relent, even though you made me cum downstairs in my entryway?” 
And he’s swallowing thickly, Adam’s apple bobbing just as anticipatory as the rest of his body, a bow string drawn tight just waiting for you to release it. But you wished to toy with the arrow more. 
“I have half a mind to make you clean my cum off the floor with your tongue,” you click your own tongue as a taunt, but that only makes him squirm, “but maybe I’ll spare you since you’re being so good for me,” you’re dragging your fingers down his boxers, freeing his cock— already far too hard, flushed and dripping with precum as it slaps against his stomach, the flared head nearly begging you to touch it, “tell me what you want,” his cock is far too gorgeous, you thought that from the first time you saw it  — long and curved, and the veins that ran along it were so pretty— just like the man himself. 
And a whimper escapes his lips, “sweetheart, please, touch me—“ 
“With what?” you thumb his tip lightly, smearing the cum down his shaft, “my fingers? Or my mouth,” and your lips lick the pre that clings to your thumb clean, dragging your thumb down the flat of your tongue. 
“Y-Your mouth,” and you’re smiling, your lips curling as his pretty gaze pleads with you, “please,” 
“Imagine your subordinates saw you like this, begging your ex-wife to blow you, nearly ready to blow your load already just from fingering me,” your fingers toy with his balls, while you leans down to trace the tip of his tongue up the bottom of his cock, “what do you think they’d say?” And your lips part to let his engorged tip enter, as his head falls back with a groan, the wet and warm mouth, as you start to bob your head up and down his length. 
“Fuuuuck, pretty,” and you’re pausing as you wait for a reply to your question, his own tongue tying itself in knots, “think I’m down bad for my wife,” he’s grunting, the words ‘my wife’ and his groans sending white hot arousal to your needy cunt, “think I’d let her fuck me anyway she wants and they would be right, sweets. I’d let you use me,” your tongue is wrapped around his length, as his dick sinks deeper into your mouth, nose brushing against his pubes, his hips held taut as he forces himself not to face fuck you. 
And his eyes flutter down to meet yours, only to find your eyes drowning in lust, molten with need that nearly burned him with want, lips sloppy and dripping with a mix of precum and your spit out of the corners of your mouth, and your fingers —buried deep in your cunt as you sucked him off. 
Fuck. 
With the nasty way you slurped at his length, the noise ringing in his ear as your fingers begin to squeeze and stroke his balls, he wasn’t going to last much longer. His hips bucked against your mouth, and he’s muttering apologies but you let him, moaning as his tip hits the back of your throat. 
“I’m close—where—“ and you’re sucking hard, tongue flicking against his slit and when he fucks your mouth once, twice — he’s gone. He’s cumming down your throat, hot spurts of cum painting your lips and mouth, his head falls back, fingers gripping the sheets as his eyes flutter open. And he watches you pull away from his cock, sticky strings of cum and saliva connecting you to his length still, “fuck, sweetheart,” his softening dick already twitching at the sight of you — your pretty tongue darting out to lick his cum from your lips. 
“You taste as good as I remember, Toru — always so sweet,” and you’re pulling your own fingers from inside your tight pussy, and he snaps. 
You’re on your back on the bed now, flopped down against the mattress as his hand closes around your wrist of the hand that was just inside you. Your words are lodged in your throat but come out a shiver when he brings your soaked fingers to his lips, he kisses each one before sucking and licking them clean. 
“Toru—“ and he pulls away from the last finger with a pop, eyes clouded with need, “I—“ 
“And you say I taste good?” he’s humming, as he leans over you, “wait until you taste yourself, Princess,” and his mouth is insistent on giving you an entire course of your taste on his tongue, mapping out a detailed cartography of very crook and crevice of your mouth, “aren’t you so much sweeter?” He’s pulling away from your bitten red lips, spit connecting your lips still, “and that taste is all mine, just like you, wifey,” 
The pet name sends a fresh wave of desire coursing through your veins, stoking the burning need already threatening to consume you both, “Toru—“ and he’s already stripping your dress away, pulled away up and over your head, thrown away like every thought of why this was a bad idea. Your nipples perk in the cool air of your bedroom and under his hot gaze, standing at attention as if they’re begging for his attention. And he’s more than happy to oblige. 
His fingers toy with the buds, rolling between your forefinger and thumb, until he’s bending down to take one in his mouth, and you’re arching into his touch, your fingers finding purchase on his shoulders. 
“Bet Atsuya would love to see you like this, huh?” He’s switching to the other side, teeth dragging against your nipple to draw a gasp from your lips, “Would love to see you such a mess like this, spread out and needy,” and he’s spreading you with warm palms, his half hard cock brushing against your thigh, “Were you gonna let him fuck you on this bed? Our bed?” 
He doesn’t allow you an answer as his fingers spread your dripping walls, “Gonna let him taste you like this?” His lips warm your fluttering pussy, nearly begging for his touch and to swallow you whole, “when I already said this pretty cunt was mine,” he clicks his tongue far too close, making you whine, “g’nna have to answer my question first, Princess,” 
“No, I wouldn’t,” and he presses a chaste kiss to your dripping pussy, making you whimper, your walls spasming around nothing, “Toru,” 
“Remember when we moved into this home?” his lips are teasing your inner thigh, teeth dragging against your hot skin, “we broke the bed in all night long,” he’s looking up through half lidded eyes, “think he could please you like that? Make you moan his name?” 
And you’re growing desperate as his lips draw close to your clit, tongue dragging against it, only to pull away to your thighs again, “no, no, only you, Toru, please—“ 
“Only I what?” oh you know he’s goading you, but your want is drawn taut like a stringed instrument, tweaking your strings when you’re dying for him to play you — “c’mon sweetheart,” 
“Only you make me feel this good — fuck, Toru, I swear to god—“ your head falls back into the pillow as his face buries itself in your cunt, his laugh vibrates against your walls, pleasure rising faster than smoke from a burning building. His fingers dig into your hips as he holds you in place now, settled between your legs. 
“You swear to me what?” and you swear his god complex gets worse and worse, and the way you moaned with his head between your legs wasn’t helping, “sorry, Princess, I have my mouth full,” and his tongue as silver as his words were, parting your folds with ease, as his lips slurped at your folds messily. 
Fuck, he was too good at it, and he knew it, smirk on his lips as the wet, nasty noises of his mouth wrapped around your cunt and your bordering pornographic moans filled the silence. Pleasure ribboned up your body, mixing with the sharpness of his fingers pressed against your plush thighs to keep you in place. 
“Gonna make me cum before I even fuck you, Princess,” and you hear the telltale squelch of his hand around his weeping dick — the shudder of your groan making him moan all the same, “taste so fucking good, never gonna go a night without tasting you again,” he murmurs far too reverently with his tongue dipping back into your folds for more of your juices, “you know how many times I fucked my fist to the thought of eating you out again? Never gonna spend a second without burying myself in this cunt,” 
“Toru, I’m close—“ and you are, greedy tongue flitting over your clit, his nose bumping against his folds, and the practiced ease of his touch — he knew just what to do to make you cum. And he did, his mouth closing around your clit, before sucking harshly. 
You cum on his face, swallowing your slick with the thrust of a desert weary man, his eagerness apparent on his soaked face, as you finally came down your high. He doesn’t waste a drop, only pulling away with a pop when your orgasm ebbs away, licking his lips clean of your juices. 
“Still dripping even after I licked you clean?” He clicks his tongue as he watches your slick soak the sheet, “gonna have to find another way, maybe you need something bigger,” he hums in fake contemplation, “what can we use?” 
“I have some sex toys that might do the trick,” and he scoffs, as he kisses up your body, before pressing his hard erection against your thigh. 
“Don’t think any toy you have compares to me,” and you’re gasping as he drags the head of his cock against your puffy clit, “nothing can fill you up like I can,” and he groans as he watches your releases mix, “just for that, g’nna make you beg for it,” 
“Toru,” you’re whining, but he’s only teasing your entrance with the head of his dick, your walls fluttering, already begging for him to sink into you, but he’s waiting for your mouth to do the same, “please, fuck me, I need you inside—“ 
He grins, “Well how can I deny my pretty wife when she asks so nicely?” And he’s splitting you open with his thick cock, balls deep with only a thrust of his hips. Your hands are grasping at him for purchase, needing to hold onto him as his cock stretches your walls out. It’s as if you remember him, walls sliding to accommodate him as they always did, but clinging to him desperately, a grunt parting his lips, as if they never wanted him to leave again. And you didn’t. 
“So fucking tight, Princess,” he’s groaning in your ear, a swallow roll of his hips drawing a chorus of moans from both of you, “don’t have to break my dick off to keep it — I’ll take you anytime you want,” and he’s pressing your thighs forward, slinging one over his shoulder, as he presses himself even deeper. 
A whine leaves the back of your throat, “too deep, Toru,” and his cock twitches inside you at that, “fuck,” and it takes everything in him not to blow his load there and then, 
“You love it when I fuck you like this, Princess, or do I have to remind you?” And he does, beginning to piston in and out, the lewd slaps of skin and moans filling the air of your bedroom, “be careful or our daughter might wake from the sounds of her mommy getting fucked,” he clicks his tongue, “maybe we should give her another sibling?” He’s watching the way your cunt eagerly welcomes his cock, sinking in and out with ease, “fuck another baby into you, hm? Would you like that princess?” 
“Toru, ngh,” your walls flutter at the thought of a kid, of his seed filling you up, “please—more—“ 
He gives a chuckle, “I’ll give you everything, sweetheart — fuck you so full that you’ll be dripping with my seed for days,” he’s grunting, legs trembling as his thrusts grow more sloppy as his orgasm begins to build, “fuck, you feel so good for me, “gonna give you another baby, make sure everyone knows you’re mine, my wife—“ 
“G’nna cum, Toru,” you’re falling back against the mattress, as he bends down to press a messy kiss to your lips, all tongue and teeth, before his fingers reach down to rub at your clit. Your eyes finding his, face flushed a pretty pink, eyes shrouded in a deep lust that was reserved only for you, and as he bucks into you even deeper, he brushes against that spongy spot that has the taut string snapping as you fall apart. 
“Cum on my cock, sweetheart,” he’s grunting, as he grazes teeth along your neck before biting. And you cum hard, toes curling as your mouth falls open with only moans of his name on your lips. The way your walls squeeze around him has him only rutting into you harder, deeper, messier — as he watches the ring of cum pool around the base of his cock, fucking you through your orgasm, “g’nna cum—“ and you’re pulling him into another kiss, legs wrapped around him as he falls over the edge with you. Hot cum spills in ropes inside your walls, his hips rolling as he does, if only to fuck his cum deeper inside you. 
“Toru, s’good, I—“ you’re incoherent nearly under him, soft kisses pressed along your jaw as you both come down from your highs, cock softening inside you only him to pull out, another groan of your name on his lips when he watches his cum drip from inside you, staining your thighs along with the sheets. 
And you whimper when he’s gathering his spilled cum on two fingers only to push it back inside, “can’t let you waste a drop, can we, sweetheart?” 
He’s finally pulling away, his other hand cupping your cheek, as he finds your lips in a lazy but far too sweet kiss, “Toru,” you mumble, “I never stopped loving you, because I don’t think I ever could,” 
His eyes grow glassy, his fingers finding the back of your neck, “I know nothing I’ll do will make up for what I did — to you and Satomi, but,” he presses his forehead to yours, “if you both let me, I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you,” 
And tears burn at the corners of your eyes, “Just stay with us, and promise to never leave — that’s enough,” and your lips brush his, “you’re more than enough for us, Satoru,” and he kisses you again and again and again, nearly climbing on top of you again, when you both hear a tiny gasp from the door. 
Your heads both snap over to your baby daughter leaning against the door, badly hidden behind it, as she pokes her head in, “did mommy and daddy make up?” 
Your cheeks burn as you cover your face — you both had checked on Satomi before but she was fast asleep still, and now — you checked the time — 9:30 PM, you were sure she’d be up all night. 
“Yes baby, mommy and daddy had some stuff to talk about,” Satoru grabs your robe for you, handing it over as he pulls his discarded boxers on under the sheets, “come here,” and she squeals as she runs into her daddy’s arms, Satoru scoops her up before pressing kisses all over her face, her giggles and his grin nearly too much for you. 
“Now she’s gonna be up all night,” you murmur to Satoru, and he’s smiling. 
“I can tire her out,” he grins, and then he adds with a whisper, “and then I’ll tire you out,” and you flush, shoving him playfully, “come on, my love, let’s go play for a while and let mama rest,” and he’s sliding out of bed, carrying her out of the bedroom, and you watch him, lying on your side, with a smile on your lips.  
Maybe it wasn’t so bad having a husband — especially when it was Satoru Gojo. 
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Satoru lets you and Satomi sleep in the next morning, making a smoothie for himself, as he starts to prepare breakfast. He did tire you both out last night, especially you — and you did some exhausting of your own, his fingers running over the hickies you left all over his neck and collarbone with a slight hum. He tied your apron on himself, only boxers and a sleeveless tee on. 
He started to crack eggs into a bowl with one hand. He wouldn’t make the same mistakes again — he meant what he said. He would make it up to you, or at least he would try — and he would spend the rest of his life treasuring you and his kid — and maybe another if you let him have his way, he thought, biting back a grin. 
You had turned him down last night when he asked, 
“Don’t you think it’s time we try for another one?” His arms are winding around you, half hard erection already pressing into you, as the two of you stood right outside your daughter’s doorway, watching the angel sleep, “we did do well with the first one,” 
“Toru, we just got back together, we’re not having another kid,” and he’s already pouting, you know without looking at him, “but that would be nice — for our daughter to have a sibling,” and god, it made him to take right there (which he did), but he couldn’t wait until all three of you were ready. Because he wouldn’t dare to miss a second of it — never again. 
And then a knock at the door pulls him from his thoughts, and his brow furrows. Who could it be this early?
He walks over, checking through the peephole, a grin growing on his lips, oh, perfect timing. Satoru opens the door, leaning against the doorframe, “Yes?” 
Atsuya Kusakabe frowns, jaw nearly dropping as he attempts not to gape at Satoru Gojo standing in his date’s doorway, nearly dropping the bag of medicine and soup he had packed up for you, “Uh, sorry, I was looking for—“ 
“My wife?” He raises a brow, and Kusakabe’s face blanches, as Satoru only smiles with a shrug, “sorry I should say ex-wife, we did get a divorce,” and Kusakabe’s mouth opens and closes, “but you know, she never stopped being mine,” 
Kusakabe clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck, “where is—“ 
“She’s sleeping still,” Satoru’s lips curl, as he sighs, “she wasn’t feeling well yesterday, but I think I made her feel better last night,” and he’s rubbing the back of his neck, movement drawing his attention to your marks littering his body. 
A flush crawls up his neck and ears and he clears his throat, “I-I see,” he thrusts the bag into Satoru’s hands, “could you please give this to her and let her know—“ and he’s shaking his head, rubbing at his temples, “tell her whatever you want.” 
And he’s gone, door slamming behind him, click of the lock. He holds the bag behind him, only to walk forward to see you peeking from the bedroom, his button up shirt thrown over your head, as you rub your eyes,  “who was it?” 
He only smiles at you, dropping the bag in the trash, “No one important,” and he’s finding his way to your side, arms winding around your waist, “I made us breakfast,” 
“Oh really?” You hum, as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, pressing sweet kisses that only makes you sigh contently, “what’s the occasion?” 
“Oh, just the first day of the rest of our lives, nothing too big,” he hums, and you laugh, his favorite noise that only makes him fall deeper in love with you, if that was even possible, “have to treat you right don’t I, wifey?” 
“Yes, you do,” and your lips find his again, “my husband,” and the word sticks in his chest, a missing piece that fits right back into place, and fixes a hole that had been aching for far too long, “should we go wake up our daughter?” 
He presses a kiss to your forehead, “Together.” 
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✧ a/n: so i didn't think i'd finish this week with being at my sister's and having a con this weekend but i found the time! i hope you enjoyed this one. this is my reality for gojo i'm living in :) fun fact, satomi and satoru both mean enlightenment! :)
✧ taglist: @jasminelee324 , @forest-hashira , @spider-fan72 ,, @rougebrainsludge , @theshylittleelfgirl , @ririchurl , @johannakhalafalla , @hanlay , @fawnlikelore , @vickkysthings , @dead-kats , @hantaslittlearsonist t , @being-me-is-not-a-sin , @augustwinesworld , @forest-fruits-jam , @kirashuu , @catsgomurp , @daddytojji , @notgoodforlife , @hyori2 , @shrimpy109 , @goddess-ofthe-godless , @i-spilt-ink-on-my-phone , @sunamatic , @rougebrainsludge , @redmangotango , , @psychxbby , @nakariabnrb , @mua-for-now @dazailover1900 , @alwaysfreakingout , @yamaguccitadashi , @equikaz , @gojosatorubrainrot
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adreaminmyheart · 2 months ago
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He wasn't sure what it was about himself that gave him such a magnetic personality. But at least in his experience, he'd generally attracted the right people. Sometimes bad things happened but the majority of the time, things were good. As long as he could follow his heart, no matter where it lead him, Danny was pretty content with where his life was.
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"I'd love to!"
Arms soon relaxing to his sides, a soft smile turned to one of excitement. Why, he may have been talking to a world famous tailor in the making! How cool would it be to say he knew the woman behind the designs? Taking a few steps forward,
Andy was just a smiling, blushing mess by the time the dance was over. Danny's encouraging words, his optimism, it was all so infectious to the squirrel. And yet she felt something else towards Danny. His soft touch, the way he spoke...no he wouldn't be interested in her. Besides he had his dream career to think about. She couldn't take that away from him.
She was at least happy to spend just this moment with him. But when he said that he'd love to see her work, she thought maybe this could be a way to spend a bit more time with him.
"Well...I was about to call it a day and head home anyway. Would...you like to come see what I have been working on?"
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actual-corpse · 1 year ago
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Studying law is so fun like...
You watch your professor sip coffee like that Kermit meme, and you wonder what everyone has been smoking in order to make them make stupid rulings.
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adreaminmyheart · 3 months ago
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"Sometimes I wonder what I'd look like with a different body type. Maybe heftier, maybe muscular. I've heard people say I'm too thin, and it just makes me wonder. I don't feel bad about the way I look, just a little curious of what I might look like if I looked a little different."
A glance over at his guest.
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"What do you think?"
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