#would probably be blue before hand

[mossyinkynebulous]

This is what I was apologizing for a bit ago. RIP my background skills on this one.

Obvs don't own Dust.

[akito-shinonome-daily]

🎤 day 68 🎵

➥ today’s akito is from the cr詠zy 2DMV!!

[sysig]

Incomplete exchange (Patreon)

[vanlegion]

Oh no, It's Again

Hey guys! I'm having another "Did this happen in the show?" moment. This time though I'm wonder if there are different versions between what's on the DVD/BluRays vs what's on (or was on) the RT website/YouTube/ThirdParty sites. An example of this is like, during season 5 when Kai is introduced and Grif goes to give her back to Blue Team, Simmon's comes up and is talking with Grif about the 'Prisoner Exchange' - Now the first time I saw this and for what I assume is the same for DVD/BlueRay and the rest - Grif kinda of plays it off and starts walking away while Simmon's in confused like 'Where's your sister?' However apparently there's an alternate scene to this - someone on TY animated it using 'Chupathingy' creatures (it was a very neat and fun animation, they've done a few of them) and they used that scene, but they used an alternate version(?) of it because Grif starts saying she captured someone and it was a hostage situation Simmon's starts talking about some maneuver she used - which is obviously meant to be a kinky thing. I do not remember this scene on the DVDS or my rewatch before Restoration? However, I swore there WAS a DVD scene in the later season 7 when Grif was going to help Caboose... or maybe slightly earlier when Simmon's was becoming disillusioned with Sarge, and he'd gone off to sulk - and we end up with Grif trying to talk to him in the underground Hologram Chamber while Simmons was shooting Holo-Grifs. . . but they sorta just get into a fight before Grif leaves... I had been reading a fic that included this, and like, I was reading it and as I did I could see the scene in my head... it felt like I was recalling seeing that, except I had just rewatched all of RVB a week prior and was like, wait - did I miss seeing that this time? Does anyone know if this was a deleted scene, or an alternate take, or if I'm just doing that 'This moment in a Fic felt canon' again thing? I know sometimes in shows and movies you can see a scene and then in another iteration of it, it's not there. A PRIME example I have of this is when I watched Jurassic Park for the first time when it first aired in theaters. There's a moment after the main characters first arrive on the island, the groups are split up into two cars. As they are going along, Ellie got smacked in the face by a big plant, and the leaf that smacked into her got ripped off. THAT is why in the scene when they stop before seeing the Brachiosaurus, she's suddenly holding this big fucking leaf. But in the VHS and early DVDs, that scene was cut for time, so it's like.. if I hadn't seen that in the movie ages before, I'd be like. . . Where the fuck did that leaf come from? ANYWHO, that is to say, if anyone has any recollection of the scene I'm describing or if anyone knows of any scenes like this, feel free to comment and let me know.

[kiraman]

The sudden overwhelming desire to write timebomb

[cabeswaterdrowned]

I’m so pleasantly surprised by dancing with our hands tied winning the bluesey poll but really no one voted august? no one?

[my-thoughts-and-junk]

once again in my rickard and mortyanne era. if you couldn't tell

[screampied]

#THE GRUDGE! g. satoru

☆ sum. perhaps screwing your ex-husband while the kids are out trick-or-treating wasn’t the best idea. but with him, the only treat he wants to trick is not in a basket—it’s right between your legs.. boo!

wc. 6.6k

warnings. fem! reader, ex-husband gojo, mentions of (2) kids, unprotected, pwp, mild hatefùcking, kakashi references eheh, gojo's still whipped, filthy dirty talk, prone bone, praise, implied bréeding, cunnīlingus / face sītting, bóob fondling, possessive themes, size kink, overstim, brat taming, fıngering, squırting, petnames.

➤ kinktober mlist

at the gojo’s, you mentally smack yourself as your feet step onto the scream-themed door mat that reads ‘step if you dare.’ part of you wished no one would answer the doorbell, but part of you solely wished he didn’t answer. it was about seven thirty at night, and with it being saturday, you had the kids for a few days. after that, you’d switch with satoru—your jeering hot-headed ex-husband. you decided since you got off early you’d take them trick-or-treating for a bit. but it’s to your utmost ‘surprise’ that satoru opens the door.

���oh! and who are you supposed to be pretty lady?” he’d hum, digging his hands into his pockets. satoru purposely tilts his head down, getting a good look at you while raising a brow. of course, he always went out for his costumes. this year, he’s wearing some sort of green flak jacket, a mask, and a long-sleeved shirt underneath with dark blue pants.

with a grump, you tuck your arms underneath your pits with your purse clinging onto your shoulder. “myself,” and your eyes flicker toward his messy frosted hair that’s spikier than usual. satoru’s wide headband partially droops below his left eye before you finish mumbling, “who are you even supposed to be.”

“uh, kakashi hatake. the man, the myth, the legend,” and satoru leans back against the front door, pulling out a fake kunai. a hand runs through his hair before he snickers at your unamused expression. tough crowd. “aw, you must be here for the kids, yeah? well, they’re out with nanami ‘n suguru trick-or-treatin’. just some blocks down,” and satoru stepped a few feet back once you trod your way inside, mutely cursing yourself that you’d probably have to wait until they got back. as long as they were with nanami and suguru—you didn’t have a problem. satoru shuts the timber wooden-made door behind him before speaking smugly. “oh. sure.. sure, just make yourself right at home, wifey.”

“don’t call me that.”

“just did.”

oh, brother.

the moment you stepped foot into your old spacey luxurious townhome satoru had built personally for you and your kids—the memories all came crawling back. the two of you didn’t end off on a bad note—divorces happen, and you both maintained a healthy relationship with the kids. you each agreed to co-parent, you’d get the week and he’d get the weekend - sometimes switching and vice versa.

“excuse the mess,” satoru hums, grabbing your coat. he tosses it over his shoulder before giving you another up-down glance. “if i knew you were comin’ over around this hour i’d clean a bit,” and he watches you struggle to keep eye contact. “hey. sweetheart, you’re lookin’ down again.”

with a scoff, you meet his gaze again. and fuck, does he look like he’s gotten even more handsome.

satoru gojo was always attractive—there was no doubt about it.

he was in his mid-thirties now, the two of you had settled down after college before having two kids of your own.

again, there wasn’t a reason for your divorce that was relatively a bad thing. you two just both decided to part ways - but of course, it was lots of unprovoked tension.

the costume that he wore was apparently based on some character named ‘kakashi’ whatever, and like always, he dressed the part. every year once the end of october would come around, satoru would wear an outfit just ‘cause. he stood tall, with serrated white hair that was jagged from all angles with the headband hanging off a side of his eye. in the middle part, the symbol was some kind of swirl that was never-ending.

satoru rambled to you that it was something . . something, a hidden leaf—honestly, you tuned out.

he wore the mask part too, covering up a good portion of his face from the nose down, and even had the red slanting scar that kakashi had near the left side of his eye that was probably makeup.

“i don’t wanna fight, gojo.”

“hmph. so it’s ‘gojo’ now,” he rolls his eyes, hanging your coat up near the rack. you take a quick peer around the room, seeing a plethora of toys and multicolored legos everywhere. it nearly makes you smile, remembering when satoru stepped on one of his youngest daughter’s legos. satoru leans against the glassy kitchen island, watching you take a seat near the crimson-red stool before humming. “and i don’t wanna fight either. in fact, i jus’ wanna talk.”

“so . . talk then,” you murmur, shifting your weight in your feet.

a brief smile creases against both sides of his lips before he grins. “soooo,” and it’s an awkward pause. you eye your ex-husband and he’s got somewhat of a bashful expression. rimy eyes of his dart toward your hand—your fingers specifically before he slyly coos. “i see you’re still wearin’ your wedding ring.”

shit.

he had a point.

after all this time, you still had your ring on. satoru did too—he also kept his ring on all the time, happily flashing it in front of countless numbers of women who’d try to hit on him.

you honestly don’t know why you still held on to it, let alone wear it, and to your surprise—you thought he’d stop wearing his those long seven months ago when the two of you officially split.

you bit the inside of your cheek before letting off a snarky, “shut up.”

satoru nearly snickers before he leans up close to you, only a few inches away. he’s so close that you get a loud wafting whiff of his citrusy cologne.

you remember the exact brand too, and it wasn’t exactly cheap either. he’d buy at least a dozen whenever the two of you went out shopping together - well, used to.

there’s so much tension between you both that you could cut it with a knife - the tension was thick, and the awkward dull pauses only made it even more intense.

there’s an annoying voice in your brain that’s screaming at you to just screw it - screw him, make up for lost time, and just . . . kiss him.

you did want to kiss satoru, and your eyes found themselves glancing toward his pearly pink lips that were almost always naturally glossed.

satoru’s eyes intently lock against yours for a few seconds before he casually brings a thumb up to the corner of your mouth, wiping away a bit of your lip gloss before cooing huskily. he expects you to pull away, but you don’t— in fact, you lean into his touch. once he notices, the only thing he replies with is a playful curt utter of,

“make me.”

so you do, but . . not in the way he expected.

not that satoru gojo was ever a man to complain though, especially with you.

and that’s when he found himself in quite a lewd predicament. satoru’s laid back against his cushiony padded mattress with you straddling his perfectly sculptured chin. a gloved hand of his grip near your right hip before he strums a thumb down your sopping wet entrance.

glossy - it’s prettier like he’s never seen it, and he can’t help but lick his lips like an animal preparing to feast the second you start to smear yourself against his chin.

“y’knowww baby, when you told me to shut up i didn’t think you meant sitting on my f—mmph,” and you cut him off mid-sentence by softly planting your cunt back on his mouth.

satoru grunts, bringing his free hand to wrap around the other unoccupied corner of your waist. he grunts, dipping his tongue inside before the familiar taste comes crawling back to his spiraling tastebuds. your taste, he missed your sweetness . . almost as much as he missed you.

as you sweetly moan within each dragging second, you glance down at him with hazed-blown pupils. shifting your wobbly weight and knees against his face, you start to feel his stubble rub on your skin. it almost tickles - but oh, you weren’t laughing.

his tongue had you doing quite the opposite.

“f- fuck,” you huff out, already starting to feel the plunging heaves of your stomach commence. sure, this was probably a bad idea, and sure, you and him probably needed to have an actual conversation at some point but now - you didn’t care about words.

you didn’t care about anything, and part of you kind of missed him.

perhaps his tongue was a majority reason for that part, and each time he rummages inside the deep secluded parts of your pussy, you let off cute individual mewling whimpers. satoru’s always been skilled, and he knew just how to please you.

his tongue always knew how to remind you of how much it’s missed its favorite meal.

curl after fucking curl, he’s leisurely spelling out letters and shapes and symbols with his tongue, taking every few seconds to swallow. satoru groans against your slobbering cunt, feeling you briefly thrust up against his nose and he can’t help but smell your tangy glacé coated sex.

it’s pleasantly sweet, and for a moment, scintillating blue eyes meet back up toward you. “h- heh, ‘s this why you came over? to shut me up ‘n use my fuckin’ mouth, sweetheart?”

“god, you talk t.. too much,” you moan, grabbing a fistful of his hair. in a way - that was true.

satoru was the definition of a blabbermouth.

he’d just talk and talk and talk . . yapping your ear off until you shut him right up in the best (and his personal favorite) way possible - sitting on his pretty face.

a pompous grin stretches across each corner of his lips whilst his jaw’s already dripping due to your slick that paints near the outer crevices of his thin lips. slow, it starts to slowly trickle down his chin at a snail-like pace, creating a shimmery coat of gloss that dribbles underneath his slack mandible.

satoru lays his long pointed tongue flat - savoring every single drop before he’s starting to suck against your clit.

“oh! fuck, right there ‘toru, riiiight there,” and he’s just sloppy. the mask part of his costume was pulled down to his neck as he was using his upper and bottom lip to munch against your sobbing pussy at irregularly paced intervals. your legs failed to stay still and you could already feel the carnal slope of your back starting to form an obtuse-like arch. “fuck, fuckin’ spit on it, ‘toru. pleasepleaseee.”

cute.

you’re calling him ‘toru again, and it makes him cockily grin knowing it was his tongue’s doing.

“wifey’s still as nasty as ever,” satoru whispers against your leaky folds, sliding a thin middle finger near your wet entrance. with a loud ‘psh’ you end up gushing out a bit abruptly and you whine loudly. your thighs rapidly snap together as you blink thrice, feeling his swollen lips glue against your pussy. “mmh, still a wet girl too. my wet girl.” you peek down at satoru who’s the literal epitome of the word smug.

he’s smearing his entire face against your teary slabbering cunt, spitting on it before lapping it right back up again.

you missed his nasty mouth - badly, and it makes your eyes shamelessly roll backward as you start to frailly rut your rickety hips into his mouth.

satoru brings two willowy fingers toward your slit before sliding the icy jewel rock of his wedding ring against your dribbling cunt.

wet, you were soaked and you let off shivering labored breaths once he started to toy with your saturated slick entrance.

with widened doe eyes, you meet his esurient-filled gaze and he hums at you. “listen to how damn wet she is,” he huffs, and you moan at the ridiculously drenching sounds of your pussy. he’s playing with you from between your thighs, chin still dripping with insane amounts of your syrupy juices. “mhm, i know, i know,” and you feel the feeble weight of your thighs quiver the second he’s focusing his attention primarily on your cunt now and not you.

all six eyes were fixated between your legs—

satoru strums the pad of his thumb down your drooling slit before gradually rolling his tongue from top-to-fucking-bottom.

he’s nasty, slithering the tip of his tongue everywhere until your toes curl and you’re letting off the cutest shrilling sounds. satoru even starts to spell out ‘m-a-r-r-y m-e’ and as lewd as it was, he’s proposing to your pussy. he needed you, and satoru knew the both of you divorcing was nearly inevitable, but he missed you.

he especially missed the way you tasted - so sweet, he could eat you out for hours even with his jaw sore ‘n locked. satoru’s a pussy pleaser, making you draw out sweet cries of more as he slurps you clean, his tongue occasionally sliding toward your puckering hole.

“satoru… ngh,” you whimper, the grip of your hand against his hair getting stronger. you’re fucking his face, grinding your slick against his mouth while watching his pretty frosty lashes flap. you’re squelching profusely, and each sloshing slosh of your pussy makes his dick twitch in his pants. “goddd, ‘m gonna cum. make me cum, fuck.”

“let’s see what she thinks,” he purrs, lustrous polished lips flushing into a pearly coat of clear once he licks them. satoru’s entirely pussy drunk, and you shudder once he slowly inserts a lanky middle finger. with a loud ‘pop!’ sound, it dexterously slides itself in, rummaging past the tight ring of your entrance.

fuck, he had such long fingers.

you almost forgot - satoru always joked with you how being ‘the strongest’ came with having six-inch fingers and he wasn’t fucking kidding . .

“hm, should my baby cum? does she deserve it?” and your lips curl up into a pout. he’s serious, having an entire conversation with your pussy. you moaned, maintaining a stiff grip on his hair before satoru started to smear circles against your cunt.

again, you’re just wet. your slickness amused him and satoru can’t help but playfully pat your pretty soddened pussy with the center of his palm once he doesn’t get a reply. the only reply he does get is the cute sloshing sounds that repeatedly gush between your poor quivery thighs.

you’re slowing yourself against his mouth as you straddle him, whimpering at the feeling of his thin digit piercing its way inside of you. you’re close, and you can feel yourself glitching and spasming the second the tip of his finger grazes past your g-spot.

already, he’s located it like ‘x’ marks the spot. your jaw was dropped, and you were on the verge of euphoric death.

satoru stretched your cunt out perfectly with just one finger, and sure . . you’ve had your fair share of intimacy with your ex-husband, but fuck did it always feel like the first time.

you couldn’t help but start to drool a bit, weakly rutting your hips against his face as you’re leisurely getting closer to the brink of your edge.

it’s carnal, you’re stupidly crisscrossed with your eyes flickering back and forth like turning signals before satoru starts to playfully nibble against your cunt again. this time though, he’s adding in another finger and the spongy pressure that’s being played with inside of you earns out a sweet honeyed gasp that sounds like a breathy shriek!

“toru, sato—fuck, ‘m cumming, ‘m gonna cum,” and your words repeated themselves over and over. you’re like a broken recurrent record on a looping vinyl. your cunt continues to sloppily rest against his perfect crooked lips the entire time as you’re blissfully coming undone.

satoru’s staring at you the entire time, practically undressing you with his eyes. he grunts, spotting how your perked nipples noticeably prodded through your silvery blouse. “ugh, fuuuck.” and it hits you like a crashing wave that slams its way into shore.

satoru’s still heartily pumping two slender digits in and out of your splashing cunt whilst you gush right on him, weak defeated hips losing their stability.

you were whimpering, tasting your candied orgasm on your tongue—it felt that good to where it’s like you could taste every nerve against your salivated tastebuds.

only satoru could make you cum on his tongue like this. you were speechless - frantically panting as you released your hand from his ghostly white strands. he’s still leaking your juices from the crannies of his lips before he exhales deeply.

“yeaaah, atta girl. lay it on me,” and you moan as he’s still sliding his long tongue in between the sopping folds of your sensitive cunt, gradually pulling out his lengthy digit pillars of fingers. “fuck, y’r so hot when you try ‘ta put me in my place, sweetheart.”

“stop talking,” you pant, getting off of him. satoru raises a pallid brow, and he grows amused once you suddenly push him to lie flat against his back. with a raspy ‘ugh’ he lands back against the velvet-colored pillows, a sly smirk marinating against his complacent features.

like a slut - he merrily manspreads just for you, long legs spread wide apart with a huge bulge sticking out of his pants.

he’s still got the shinobi headband on, part of it slumping down his left eye. “oh, what’s this?” he lowly gruffs, eyeing you from head to toe again.

this time though, it’s more sensual. satoru’s taking in every piece of fabric that’s protecting your skin, watching as you slowly undress yourself.

he could feel his boner excruciatingly rubbing against his pants the more he watched. he’s taking in your appetizing presented curves . . so pretty. especially after having two kids - his kids.

“gonna ride me, yeah?” he jibes, continuing once you were now left in nothing but a matching set of panties and bra.

coincidentally - the colors matched his exact eye color, and satoru always had a thing for you wearing clothes that matched his eyes. but like always, he just kept on talking. he was too cocky for his good, and maybe one more fuck was just what you needed. what you both needed.

just . . one . . more,

right?

well, that’s what you told yourself.

but all that went out the window the second you’re aligning yourself on his cock. satoru takes a sharp three-second breath, ogling at your every move. it’s like a game of chess. he’s waiting for you - for your cunt to make its move against his throbbing mushroomy tip.

two big hands of his wrap around your waist and he grunts lowly. feeling your slick cunt maneuver itself against his angry reddened tip makes his head slightly toss back in feral rapture.

his tip—it’s got a coral blush, and you let off a moan at feeling his hooked fat plump crownhead try to plummet its way in.

it’s rude, not caring to introduce itself to your cunt but slam its way in instead, asking if your insides remember him.

and it does - it definitely does.

“ohhh fuck,” you sob out a needy moan, your hips eagerly making two solid taut bucks against him.

satoru groans against your ear, swollen sack peeling back as you’re still straddling him. your body, it was in his arms again and he couldn’t help but feel you everywhere.

starting at your hips, he holds them tight, tracing the callused scarred tips of fingers all around the curvature of your body before trailing down toward the juncture of your rear. “god, don’t know how much i missed you ‘n your smart mouth,” and as you let off a surprised gasp, satoru grabs a nice chunk of your ass. “missed this ass just as much.”

“bet you did,” you puff, full lungs already on the verge of collapsing. he’s huge - and barely the tip was in and you could already feel your pussy starting to throw a fit of tantrums. satoru’s girth made him stretch more, and for a second you let off another sweet moan before meeting his gaze.

he’s got a delicious curve to him that always makes your insides twist and churn. it’s a feeling you’ll probably never get used to.

“what’s with the smirk? somethin’ funny?”

“you, baby,” satoru titters, giving you a haughty head nod. you feel your cunt throb as you’re trying to continue to lower yourself down on his cock but the stretch - fuck, pretty soon your poor cunt was about to be met with max fucking capacity.

satoru’s sparkly heavy-lidded eyes linger on you before he cups your chin, swiping a thumb across your wet quavering lips. “all that talk ‘n you still can’t take me. thought i trained my wife’s pussy good,” and with a teasing pout, he shrugs. “guessss not!”

“fuck you.” you moan, mentally groaning the second you felt yourself getting more soaked, just from his words alone.

pathetic - and yet, you wanted more.

satoru clicks his tongue, and with a blink of an eye, he now has you flipped over. you gasp, landing flat on your chest as he’s got your wrists restrained against your back.

satoru rolls his eyes, sprawling out your weak-kneed legs all the way apart to get a good glimpse of your sopping pussy from the back.

god, in his mind - it should have been a crime to be this wet. your sopping, pearly translucent molasses of your slick stream down your pulsing entrance and he grunts.

“fuck you,” he repeats, although he says it cheekily. even though you weren’t even facing him anymore you could almost visibly see the annoying shit-eating grin plastering on his face.

from ear to ear with each of his dimples piercing each wry crevice of his mouth, he's so smug--bastard.

your back arches and you moan the second he starts to smack his rotund tip against your pussy. “myyy, what a fuckin’ mess,” and you suck your teeth, feeling satoru’s loud spanks hit louder. each time his fat cockhead thumps itself against your wet outer folds, the vibrations make you shiver from the waist down.

the tingly tenderness makes your toes immediately curl up once more and your canorous-like moans start to become muffled once you dig your teeth into the edge of a nearby pillow. “still wet after alllll this time like a good messy girl,” he grits. with another smack of his tip, your leg twitches in response. “ooh, she likes that,” and satoru softly spreads your saturated cunt lips apart with two fingers just to see your pulse throb in full filthy action. “fuuck, she’s achin’ for it. look at that pretty ‘lil throb. so cute.”

“are you gonna fuck me or n—”

“listen, honey,” and you moan at the sudden husky drop of his voice. satoru softly wraps a few fingers around your throat, pressing his slim body right against your own. he drops your wrist, watching you sink into the mattress as limp-like. he’s so close that you could feel the outline of his abs prods against his shirt.

inching his lips near the shell of your earlobe, he starts to pant. heavy, sinister breath that ends up making you throb ten times harder. “i’m gonna fuck you,” he grunts, feeling your ass cutely try to jerk its way against him. the costume part of his pants was lazily pulled down, reaching the low area of his ankles. with a husky sigh, satoru brings his tip near the dripping entrance of your sloppy doused cunt. “might as well fuck that bratitude out of ya too while ‘m at it,” and you moan once he’s slowly starting to sink his way in.

satoru grabs ahold of your torso, lifting you slightly to a certain degree. your ass was raised just a few meters with your face smushed against the satiny made bedsheets.

his eyes dart down your body for another time and now, he’s just openly gawking at your exposed skin - your gorgeous physique.

satoru could stare at you all day if he could. “f- fuh—fuck,” you croak, plump lips forming into a hoop-like ‘o’ the moment he’s easing his way inside. there goes his ridiculous girth again, there goes his fat length that never fails to rearrange your clingy needy insides.

your tummy dips from each inch that’s gradually disappearing inside of you like a never-before-seen magic trick until he’s starting to gruffly groan. satoru’s already breaking a frigidly cold sweat.

it was just him feeling your covetous wet cunt voluntarily swallow him up - squeezing him tightly like a vice until you wring him dry. your pussy’s holding him hostage, and with the tight firm grasp you had against him, you never wanted to let go. “ ‘toruuu, ‘s fuckin’ big.”

“allll for you,” he drags out his words through raspy breathy sentences. chalky white brows of his compress together as he’s starting to feel the brief twinge of pleasure that courses through his beefy clenched thighs. with hooded cunt-drunk eyes, satoru already heard your gargling pussy trying to get more bratty words in. “all. for. you,”

and he punctuated his words just like he punctuated his merciless, sloppy thrusts.

the first thrust was rigid, the second thrust was sensual, and the third was damn near powerful. .

you moan loudly, feeling him caress tender circles near the exposed nape of your neck with his thumb as he tries to start up a sufficient pace. it took him a moment before he was fully in, making sure you felt and remembered every single inch.

satoru expands through your cunt like a domain.. the more carnal lewd way though.

it makes you shiver, and with his weight pressing into your ass that was your last fucking straw.

satoru’s got you in prone bone - a position like doggy but better, and he’s got his chiseled hips just barely hovering over your ass. with pounds and pounds of skin against skin—each smack against flesh had your mind going for a whirl ride.

you were already surrounded by his sweltering warmth from the inside and the feeling alone was enough to make your mouth water.

heavy airy pants drew out from your full lungs like you were some sort of animal, then again—it’s satoru gojo, and his dick was just one of a fuckin’ kind..

his cock was heavy, driving through your cunt like it’s been ages, and it kinda has.

with a hypnotic pivot of his askew hips, satoru makes you arch just a bit further. it’s a pretty arch, and he skips a few fingers down your curling spine. he watches you trying to wriggle away but with a cocky, “ah ah. where ya goin'?” he reels you right back into him. he’s so thick, and he only imagined how pretty you looked with your eyes lulling toward the back of your skull. “aw, don’t get shy on me now, sweetheart,” he purrs lowly, and you moan once he gives your ass a rude spank. “wanna hear my wife’s pretty voice. y’r sloppy pussy’s nice but i wanna—ngh, hear you.”

“ex-wife,” you correct him again, and you know he’s just addressing you as that just to tease you. you start to whimper as his rhythm starts to pick up, ploddingly dragging his keen hips further and further into you. “hnghh. stupid-,” you blurb out another weak squalling whimper, gluey lips starting to stick together.

you almost forgot how mean his dick game was, and satoru knew how to fuck.

he had the type of dick where it’d make you question your life choices—so good, each curve of his hips had you getting more and more stupid.

you’re pronounced cock drunk within milliseconds, and it doesn’t even take you long before your eyes were as wide as saucers, tongue lolled, and your back arches to its very limit.

and his stamina . . oh,

it never changed once he aged—he had the stamina of a fucking stallion, and his hips proved the horsepower to back it up.

“whaaat’s that?” satoru chirps, adding a bit more pressure around your throat. it’s safe - but you let off a tiny crooning moan once his strokes become deeper. you feel him reach at unimaginable angles, and your eyes start to roll back again.

satoru’s got you right where he wants, in his bed, the bed that used to be shared between you both.

he’s amping up his delirious pace, striking his feral hips into you quicker before groaning against your ear. in a hoarse tone, he licks a stripe down your neck. “such a brat, bet you don’t slut this pretty pussy out for anyone else, huh?”

you moan, feeling him breathe down your neck. cloudy hot puffs of air aerate against your skin before satoru starts to suck against your shoulder. “mmh. maybe i do. ‘s none of your business.”

“oh girl, please,” satoru replies, and his sass was enough to make your thighs quake.

you still couldn’t get used to his size - the fat fucking size of his cock that nearly makes both of your thighs clamp shut.

the shirt part of his costume snags against your skin as he’s still fucking you raw, buried balls fuckin’ deep before satoru starts to slow down.

with a wet ‘plop!’ he grunts, feeling his dick slip right out of you. “fuuck,” and he takes a moment to stare at the sight underneath him.

you, his pretty ex-wife all arched and hunched over.

your pussy’s pitifully drooling for more - sniveling wetly from the sheeny flaps as you clench around the air for a few seconds.

as a soft needy moan leaves you, you whine out an inaudible noise that sounds almost like you’re saying ‘what happened?’

“so . . fuckin’ hot,” satoru groans, re-aligning himself back against your slick-flooded entrance.

he heard your melodic ‘oooh’ leave from your lips as he was back inside, a content sigh departing from his chest. satoru can’t help but lean himself against you, bringing his hands toward your bouncy tits. “ah, can’t forget about my favorite girls,” and you let off a plethora of whiney whimpers, feeling him drag his thumbs over your sensitive nipples. satoru’s hips start to get sloppy and his cock’s just lazily swerving its way through every filthy orifice. “so pretty ‘n plump. . all mine.”

satoru continues to fondle your breasts as he’s ruthlessly pounding into you, swinish hands desperate to feel every part of your round soft tits. he’s moaning against your ear right with you, and satoru’s starting to feel himself steadily reach toward his vulgar demise.

his cock’s rude, repeatedly hitting itself against your precious beloved g-spot. it’s smothering it with a multitude of sloppy kisses with his tip, making sure it savors every wet smooch. “fuck, fuck me,” you moan, lying in a puddle of your drool that starts to dampen the pillow that rests underneath your chin.

“greedy ‘lil thing,” satoru huffs, and as he’s still playing with your tits, his pumps start to slow down. satoru’s massaging your walls so good that it’s like he’s putting a wicked spell on your pussy.

you could barely even sit up anymore, and he’s holding your hips firmly. “mmhhh, gettin’ me all soaked, baby. should make you lick me right up.”

“how about you stop talking-”

“how about i edge you ‘n let you finish this sloppy pussy yourself, huh?”

radio silence.

you moaned in response and satoru shook his head with another smarmy sneer squeezing across both corners of his pink lips.

“uh huh. ‘s what i thought,” and satoru groans the moment he feels himself starting to shrink up from the inside.

his testes were nothing but wrung out, plump, and swollen underneath you, pap papping against your ass - preparing to be milked full.

the lewd imagery alone makes him grunt, feeling a vein prod down his shaft. satoru’s abs flex through his shirt before he sighs, bringing a kiss near the back of your neck. “hah, tell me where sweetheart. where do you want it, tell me.”

“fuck,” you moan, losing count of each time his pointed tip thrashes itself against the gummy barrier of your cervix.

satoru lowly chortles, panting heavily before making you lie straight down against the bed. “heh, fuck? that’s not an answer, silly.”

“inside, fuckin’ finish inside, ‘toru,” you blurt out, hearing your voice start to strain.

you’ve been moaning your head off, and your chords were starting to sound like they’ve had just about enough.

“nuh uh, manners sweetheart. don’t act brand new,” he teases, tracing a palm over the curved shape of your perked ass. he was in so deep, you felt the pressure press down on your tummy and it gave birth to an entire school of butterflies. you slip out another moan once satoru’s slowing his impactful thrusts down, still filling you to the brim before bringing his hips to a sudden halt. he’s back up against your ear before he whispers hoarsely, “ ‘pretty pleaseee’, c’mon baby. talk to me nice.”

with a guttural whine desperately trying to rip out the back of your throat, you grumble out a bratty, “fuck you.”

“hah, you’re a trip, y’know that?” and you gasp, feeling satoru snake a hand in between your thighs.

as he drags it down to where it stops near your stuffed pussy, he starts to rub his open palm against you. you moan, arching ever further as your ass presses into him. “it’s ‘fuck me’ ‘n yet you’re bent over for me, wet for me, sloppy for fuckin’ me,” and you felt yourself starting to throb quicker the more he spoke.

within each filthy sentence, his words drip with more erotic bass in his voice—

it’s sexy, and satoru’s feeling you trying to weakly grind your ass back against him so he could finish. it’s cute, the way how you’re so impatient but such a brat.

the woman he always knew - his wife.

“sato—satoruuu,” you mewl out, another whimper flying past your spit-slick lips. the gradual sounds of skin slapping resound against the walls of the spacious bedroom before it echoes. you moan once his cock stills itself inside - waiting for you, and with a defeated moan, you huff, “fine, pretty please.”

“pretty please what, sweetheart?”

he’s annoying, and yet here you were shamefully pulsating for him, arched over for him, and babbling his name over and over again like it’s some repetitive sacred mantra.

with a pouty scoff, you grumble out a subtle, “pretty please . . cum inside, ‘toru. please.”

“atta girl, use those words,” he purrs, and you moan once he gently grabs both of your unsteady hips. satoru braces your body underneath him and he grunts once he focuses back on his release. “god, this tummy,” he rasps, and you whimper once you feel his bare hands creep underneath your warm flat body.

satoru’s body remains on top of you - pounding you ruthlessly, and that’s when he softly presses a hand against your stomach. right there, he feels a tiny bulge of himself and it makes him grunt.

you were squeezing around his cock tight, slathering the entirety of his fat cock with your slimy slick before he groans. “mhm, you’d look so pretty plump ‘n round again for me, baby,” and satoru’s starting to feel it. his body - it shakes, damn near erupting as his high’s approaching at a hasty speed. “prettiest fuckin’ mommy. fuck, ‘m gonna give you so much.”

white lashes of his snap shut as he whines into your shoulder, still pumping thick inches into you from behind—skin slapping meanly and resounding off the walls of the room before he groans out a growling, “fuck!” you’re moaning right with him, his heat radiating against your skin. satoru’s strokes were hypnotic, his hips jerk against your ass as you’re barely keeping up. your insides felt churned all the way out as he still had a hand lying on the center of your tummy, drooling at the thought of filling you up again.

when it arrives, it’s quick - it takes him only a few long drawn-out seconds before he finally lets go. white brows of his twist together as he’s slowly pumping you full of ribbons ‘n ribbons of cum.

pearly slimy globs shoot into you, and you moan out a content sigh of your own as the muscles in your shoulders relax. “fuuuck,” you breathe, hearing satoru’s groans overshadow your noises. he’s always been far louder than you, especially whenever he was finishing.

he sounded pretty, angelic almost. satoru’s eyes flicker down toward the mess that’s being made, hearing the sloppy sounds of your pussy gargle and all.

bubbles of ivory-colored seed coat the outer folds of your entrance and you feel his warmth.

gristly silky ropes dribble into you all at once, creating a milky white ring that starts to form around his base. he’s missed filling you up like this - so so bad.

satoru nearly slips out a whine as he’s dumping his all into you—casually filling you to the brim, and that’s when his hips start to get even sloppier.

he was a mess, and you’ve milked him dry. he watches as your pretty pussy’s all filled and glossed - oozing with such amounts of cum.

a bit of stringy strands started to stick and glue against your thighs like adhesive, and he couldn’t help but pull out. it’s a squishy lewd ‘pop’ that sounds the second he drags his weighty cock out from between your creamy flaps. “god, look at how pretty she is after a good fillin’,” he huffs, and you’re still catching your breath once satoru flips you over. you’re lying on your back, meeting his gaze.

you’ve never seen him more in love - oh, he was whipped.

he didn’t even have to tell you those known words because his eyes already spoke for him. satoru rubs his leaky white-coated tip against your cunt, smearing his cum all over your entrance before sighing. after he does that, satoru licks his lips and that’s when you watch his head starting to disappear, going lower.

“can’t . . let it go to waste,” he grumbles, and you moan the second you feel the tip of his tongue starting to create a slope up your right thigh.

slowly, he’s lapping up the remnants of his cum that’s spilling down your skin. you almost forgot just how filthy he was. satoru had no shame, and he even moaned once the taste of his mess met against his tastebuds. “mmh.”

“s- satoru,” you heave, a hand finding its way through his strands again. his lips were soft, and he then started to create sloppy kisses. you moan, writhing against the stained sheets before gingerly bringing his head back up.

with a sleazy grin, his eyebrows raised before you finish your sentence, tangled fingers still fishing through his snowy unkempt tresses. “kiss me.”

“heh, that’s my girl,” he hoarsely, gradually closing the distance between you both. he’s been longing to kiss you, to plant his lips against yours. satoru groans in your mouth, feeling your arms wrap around his slim waist.

he starts grinding his hips against yours, his angered reddened tip blushing the more cold air sets against it. you’ve never felt more hot, and you could feel a smirk carve against satoru’s lips as he’s making out with you.

it’s intense - his tongue explores throughout your mouth, demanding entry as you moan.

satoru’s sweating pinballs, and he presses his forehead against yours. “fuckin’ woman,” he whispers, his voice getting more and more raspy.

you could taste himself on his tongue and so could he.

it was lewd - and yet, he only wanted more. more of you and so much of it..

satoru leans into your touch, sucking on your tongue as pairs of teeth occasionally clash and smash together before that’s when you abruptly pull away.

“h..hey,” he huffs, and he’s entirely flustered. satoru’s got heart eyes in his pupils, and he’s very much whipped. of course, though, he tries not to show it by keeping up his smug, arrogant façade. “what’s— ah.”

like earlier, you switch positions and push him lightly to where he lands on his back. pretty soon, you were sure trick-or-treating was gonna be over soon for the kids—satoru mentioned earlier how they were staying out for about maybe two hours.

as you straddle his lap again, finally listening to that annoying voice in your head, you made up your mind.

fuck it.

fuck him - literally.

“lie back,” you murmur, and you watch as satoru grows sheepish. you’re getting under his skin, and your sudden change in demeanor makes him hard for what was probably the umpteenth time of the night.

like a dog – he’s obedient, going manspread again before a groan escapes out of him. as your drenched flooded cunt hovers over his tip again, you lean in to pepper chaste kisses near his neck.

“oh, finally gonna ride me now, yeah?” satoru raises a brow, though you could tell how his cockiness was fading. he was sensitive - very.

it was almost painful, and now you were just teasingly grinding the entrance of your cock back ‘n forth against his flaccid length that rests against his tummy. “shit,” he swallows, idly bringing a hand toward your waist. he sees the look in your eyes before dryly chuckling. “f- fine. but this means . . you’ll give me another chance?”

you deadpan, playfully flicking his chest back before humming. “we’ll see.”

“i’ll take it,” satoru pants, trying to flash a smile but he ends up moaning the second you’re starting to align himself against his throbbing tip.

he’s still leaking gleaming white droplets from the sides of his dick, his veiny shaft being decorated with globs and globs of pre. with a guttural groan, satoru’s abs flex through his costume before he grabs your ass, giving your left rear cheek its nth spank.

“do your worst fuckin’ then,” satoru stares up at you, a whine desperately trying to leave his slick-spit lips before he squeezes your ass. as you moan, watching his swollen tip gradually disappear between your sappy folds, gojo sighs.

as your unstable hips try to steady themselves against him, you feel satoru rub the front jeweled part of his wedding ring on your sopping cunt one more time right as you prepare to ride him.

“m- make your husband proud, wifey.”

[stellardeer]

Yall ever think about how much is passed down between children that adults may be completely oblivious to.

Which goes for positive and negative things.

Like games that an older child taught to a younger one, who then taught it to another child below them the next year. There's plenty of stuff I remember doing that no adult ever taught me.

But that also goes for the bad parts of being young like bullying.

It's why it would be so hard to stop the cycle of bullying altogether. A 5th grader treats the 4th graders like they're all babies and they need to stop doing certain things and act a certain way, and the 4th graders don't like it but they internalize it so they end up doing the same thing to class below them a year later. Or high school seniors treating freshman like absolute dogshit just for being freshman, and they hate it so much but by the time they become seniors they think they've earned the right to do the same thing to the younger kids. So it repeats indefinitely.

And it's not even necessarily something that adults can intervene in if they don't know it's happening. They can give all the bullying PSAs they want and maybe they'll catch one individual act and punish it, but you would have to convince multiple generations of students to drop this behavior in order for it to truly disappear.

[gojonanami]

content: drunk!gojo, clingy gojo, infinity acting up, pre-established relationship, down bad for you, mentions of having kids, poor Ijichi

���Hic— where’s my wife?”

You rub your temples, as you watch your husband whine, “how much did you let him drink?”

“Let him? He was a force of his own, he—“ Ijichi cuts off when he sees your glare, balking as he panics, she’s even scarier than Gojo when she’s mad! “I’m so sorry!”

You shake your head, “it’s fine, Ijichi,” and he scurried away quickly, leaving you with your very inebriated husband. The one who had drank one sip of alcohol too many and was probably liable to misfire a hollow purple any second, “Satoru,”

You approached him and were met with the resistance of his infinity, as he sat slumped over on the booth table, “Satoru, put down your infinity—“

“No,”

“Satoru, come on, you have to stop or I can’t take you home,” and he’s shaking his head, cheeks flushed.

“No, I mean I don’t know how to,” he sighs, “the infinity is all messed up, I can’t do it,” he rubs his eyes, and you’re sighing again.

“It’s just because of the alcohol, Toru,” you sit beside him, “you can do it

His face was buried in the crook of your neck, dead weight on his two feet, as he pulled you even closer, cheeks flushed and warm from the alcohol, “why didn’t you come? You told me you were gonna pick me up,”

“No, I didn’t, you said Ijichi was going to—“ you manage to say before he’s whipping his head up, eyes sparking with blue, but lips curled in a pout, as if he wasn’t two seconds from obliterating you and the entire block.

“Do you hate me?” And his eyes nearly glow in the dark of the night, infinity flickering as you drew closer, “do you not want me to have your kids?”

Your hand finally reaches him, as you are the only one who can pierce through his defenses, “first of all l, I would be the one having your kids, weirdo,” your fingers cup his cheek, thumbing away his tears, “and how could I ever hate my husband?”

He blinks at you, “You’re married?” And you have to bite back your laugh at his affronted expression, “to who? I’ll hollow purple them!”

You snort, “Well he has light hair, blue eyes, and is drunk off his ass,”

He blinks, furrowing his brow, “Nanami?” And you laugh, before kissing him hard. You can taste the alcohol on his lips still, mixed with the aftertaste of sugar and chocolate he had at the bar most likely.

“Get it now?” And he grins, nodding, as he hangs all over you as you get him into the car with you, leaning against you as you drive home.

“So you’re gonna leave your husband for me?”

“…I might, if you ever drink again.”

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ YES, I HAVE A GIRLFRIEND, AND YES, SHE'S REAL! ❜❜

.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: what happens when your gamer boyfriend brings you on-screen for the first time?

contents: fem!reader. use of she/her pronouns + reader is referred to as gojo's girlfriend. toji slander bcs he deserves it.

author's note: everyone welcome streamer!gojo to the world! he'll be here for a while...

"oh, please," satoru laughs, leaning back and grinning at the screen in front of him. he tosses his hair, but it falls back into his eyes just seconds later. "no way you guys all thought i would lose that one. c'mon, have some faith in me!"

you watch satoru reply to the hundreds of comments lighting up the side of his monitor, smiling endearingly at the way he laughs at some and practically chortles at others.

it was only after the two of you started dating that satoru disclosed his streaming hobby, and to your surprise, he was pretty popular. thousands of people tuned in to watch him play some game or another every night, and well, it paid better than you'd expect.

satoru whistles, hands resting comfortably behind his head as a particular question catches his attention. "ah, do i have a girlfriend?" he muses, grinning as he shoots a quick side-glance at you. "yeah," he continues, snorting when what looks like a flurry of no fucking way's flood the chat.

he clicks his tongue disappointedly, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "what, did all eight thousand of you think i couldn't pull? thanks a lot," satoru deadpans, waving his hand and sighing dramatically. "i don't know what any of you mean. i'm a catch!"

you snicker at that, and your laughter only increases when satoru turns and gapes at you. he juts his bottom lip out, face sinking into an adorable pout at he crosses his arms. "even my own girlfriend's laughing at me," he mumbles petulantly. "hmph!"

satoru sticks his tongue out at you childishly, and you blow a kiss back. he pretends to faint before turning back to his monitor, quickly skimming the comments before he gasps. "what do you mean, she probably doesn't exist?!" he sputters, clutching his heart exaggeratedly.

the look on his face is priceless — imagine getting told by thousands of people that one, they think you can't pull, and two, that they don't even believe your significant other exists. naturally, satoru reacts as dramatically as ever. he pretends to ignore everyone in the comments before calling them out individually.

"oh, i see you, toji... fishy-guru," satoru gripes, wagging his finger at his screen. "my girlfriend exists and she's mine! don't even think about it." he pauses, squinting at the chat before correcting himself with an eyeroll. "fushiguro. whatever. either way, she's real and she's all mine."

satoru swivels his chair to face you, making an incredulous face as he gestures to the screen. "can you believe this?" he grumbles, ocean-blue eyes focused on you. "these guys don't think you're real."

you shrug, toying with the corner of his sheets as you smile back at satoru. he's so childish, but that's just one of the many things you adore about him. sure, he's an annoying brat, but at least he's a total sweetheart too.

your boyfriend extends his hand, beckoning you to come over to him. "c'mon, darling," he cooes, scrunching up his nose at you. "wanna help me prove these losers wrong?" satoru mouths please, and the puppy eyes he gives you are cute enough to convince you.

so you hop off his bed, running a hand through your hair as you stroll over to where he sits in front of his monitor. beaming like a kid on his birthday, satoru takes your hand and twines his fingers with yours.

smiling smugly, satoru pulls you on screen and into his lap, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. you watch the chat erupt with she's real's and how did he pull a girl like her's and smile, flicking satoru's forehead affectionately.

he ignores the thousands of dumbstruck users in his comments and holds you close to his chest, adjusting his grip on your waist to make his lap as comfortable as possible for you. satoru's adoring eyes are fixed on you, only you, even as his chat explodes.

suguru-geto: haha i already knew

toji-fushiguro: how the fuck did a loser like him pull her?

yuuji-itadori: gojo has a girlfriend??? what did i miss??

[cntloup]

Gojo Satoru x pregnant!reader

protective!Satoru, fluff, a lil angst, mention of feeling guilty, implied heavy symptoms experienced by the reader

"it's ok, baby. i've got it." Satoru says as he approaches your slouched form over the sink, washing the dishes as you try to get something done and make yourself useful.

you've been feeling guilty during the past month or so, feeling like you were a burden to him, thinking that you would never live up to his expectations. now he has to take care of you. and as time goes by, it will get even worse as your pregnancy progresses. but he's a busy man with heavy responsibilities. you'd be only holding him back. you torture yourself with these thoughts every day.

"oh, thanks. i'll go clean up the living room and do the laundry then." you respond with a forced smile, trying to mask the guilt that's been gnawing at you for a while as you try to keep yourself from falling over out of dizziness.

"what? no, wait! i'll do it after i wash the dishes. you go get some rest. you've done enough." he retorts while gently grabbing your arm, voice slightly raised to stop you immediately.

he is in utter disbelief at your behavior. you should be resting right now, tucked in beneath the soft sheets peacefully. you shouldn't worry your pretty little head about anything, he thinks.

"i haven't done anything all day." you utter in a faintly frustrated tone, mostly at yourself.

"and that's exactly how it should be." he replies with a nod, "now go to bed before i drag you there myself." he adds, maintaining a playful tone, a soft smile adorning his features as he drinks in your beauty. you're already glowing. but considering how observant he is, he senses your discomfort immediately like he can actually feel the gloom and sorrow you're feeling right now like a mother hen.

"what is it, baby? tell me." he murmurs as he walks up to you and pulls you into him by your hips, shining blue eyes staring at you as he awaits a response.

his hand rests on your side as the other cups your jaw, his thumb swiping over your cheek that could be dampened any moment now as you feel tears threatening to spill.

"i'm so sorry." you whisper breathily, voice slightly quivering with the lump in your throat as you look up into his glowing eyes.

"for what?" he asks, confusion evident on his features.

"for being weak. i'm so sorry to disappoint you." you finally spill out the words that have been weighing heavily on your chest as the tears cascade down your glossy eyes.

"disappoint me? i don't understand... why are you crying, love?" he mutters with a shake of his head, his confusion growing even more by your words as his fingers swipe over your cheeks to wipe away the stray tears.

"you're literally the strongest and you're stuck with me. i'm barely even showing yet and i'm feeling extreme fatigue. i've been sleeping all day for the past month cause i can't do anything. and because of the symptoms, i'll probably have to quit my job." you ramble about the thoughts that have been pulling you down all this time.

"wait, wait, wait! how long have you been feeling like this?" he questions with widened eyes baring into your soul.

"eversince we found out i was pregnant. i can't stop feeling guilty about disappointing you." you reply quietly, almost embarrassed to admit it. of course you know you're being irrational. it's all natural to be tired during this time and need help, but you just can't help it.

"you've been feeling like this all this time and you didn't tell me anything?" he blurts out almost too aggressively to his liking, "sorry. didn't mean it to come out that way." he quickly apologizes after witnessing the slight flinch on your part.

how could he not see it? you've been trying to do the chores like regular, pushing yourself to your limit both in the house and on your job until he swoops in and takes the weight off your shoulders. now he starts to blame himself for not finding out sooner and letting you wallow in your own sadness and guilt all alone.

"you're not weak, baby. you're doing the one thing that i can't possibly ever do. the one thing that the strongest can't do. and what does that make you? huh? you're literally the strongest of all, babe. i can't even fathom what you're going through and you're doing amazing-", "i'm barely functioning." you cut him off.

"i'm not done yet, babe." he says playfully before continuing, "you're doing amazing, honey. you sleep not because you can't do anything else but because you need it. you're carrying our child for fuck's sake. a literal human's life is growing inside you and of course it takes its toll on you. and i'm right here beside you every step of the way." he finishes his loving speech with a tender kiss on your forehead as his strong arms wrap around your now slightly shaking form as you sob, utterly moved by his words and also the hormones.

"thank you, Satoru. i really appreciate it. you always know what to say when i'm feeling down." your words are cut off by loud sobs but he patiently waits for you to finish as he rubs your back soothingly while nuzzling his face in your neck.

"any time, baby. i love you." he whispers in your ear, "i love you too, toru." you say back, continuing to sob in his arms for a while before you eventually calm down and he guides you to bed, encouraging you to take some much-needed rest.

"and don't worry about your job. you can take some time off or quit altogether. i have more than enough to pay for our family and the next generations to come-", "ok, stop bragging!" you chuckle, "i'm just saying, baby. i've been dying to spoil you. now's my chance. let me take care of you. you don't have to go through this alone. in fact, i won't even let you." he chuckles lightly and crashes his lips onto yours, pulling away with a loud smack as you both lay in bed, limbs tangled together, "you already spoil me." you mention with a slight pout, "and i'm gonna do it even more. you deserve it, baby. don't worry about anything. i've got it." he says while softly caressing your cheek, admiring your glowing beauty illuminated by the faint bedside light.

you slowly start to feel the sleep creeping in and drift away into a slumber as you mumble a quiet 'thank you', curling into Satoru's side as he holds you so lovingly while you think to yourself how you've been blessed with the best, most loving and supportive partner anyone could ever ask for.

[inmaki]

gojo showing off your back scratches to geto

( cont from this fic! req, visual ) .

contains: sex talk, desc of back scratches, crack, sugu is called daddy once (as a joke.. right..)

everything was relatively peaceful in suguru's apartment. key word: relatively.

a forgettable yet appreciated sunday afternoon, not a cloud in sight despite the weather forecast predicting downpours of rain. either way, the raven-haired man insouciantly rested across his white couch, reaching the conclusion that today would be a day for self-care, relaxing, and perhaps some meditation.

there was only one thing ruining his peace.

all morning, suguru has been forced to try and ignore the stain a certain someone has left on his couch — a pair of unecessarily expensive yet dirty shoes being the culprit.

despite these attempts, every once in a while his gaze can't help but wander over at the mark — as if it'd poof out of existence if he glared hard enough.

"fuckin' asshole.." he mutters. it was a wonder his relationship with his best friend managed to stay so promising despite all their differences, yet suguru wouldn't have it any other way, even after situations like this.

right when he grumpily turns back to the tv — which was playing some crappy, low budget rom-com — his apartment door is yanked open and suguru swears he nearly jumps out of his seat.

great, was this it? was he about to get robbed, perhaps evicted? and then probably die? forced into the afterlife knowing gojo's shoe-shit was still on his new couch? no that can't—

"i fucked her!"

suguru whips his head towards the apartment door, announcement being disregarded as he nearly groans in agony. speak of the devil.

big blue eyes peak out from under circular sunglasses, one hand already raised in preparation for a dap up while his stupid, big, dirty shoe pushes the door closed behind him. gojo wears a black compression shirt with grey sweats, marching over to his friend with a ginormous grin across his cheeks.

"take your shoes off, now," suguru snaps, nodding to his friend's feet with a frown.

"yeesh... whatever y'say, daddy," the bastard never loses his smile as his hands raise in surrender, kicking them off by the door smoothly. "what's got your panties in a twist?"

geto pinches his nose bridge. "don't call me that," as he continues the scolding, he points to the living room with his free hand. "you got a mystery stain on my couch, satoru. do you know how many youtube videos i watched trying to get this shit off?"

unphased, gojo takes a look at the strangely colored blob against the armrest's leather material and shrugs. "my bad. did you try febreeze?"

"what— no? dude, febreeze is for.." when suguru looks back up to sourly meet his gaze, he could immediately tell the white-haired man was already drifting back into la-la-land, words going in one ear and out the other. "..nevermind. why're you here?"

at the reminder, satoru seemingly brightens, head shooting back up as if he was just told he'd won the lottery.

"oh god, don't make that stupid face—" he pauses. "the fuck are you doing?" suguru might as well say goodbye to his self-care day, because now gojo was stripping in the middle of his living room, shirt thrown haphazardly onto the still-very-much-stained couch.

"just look!" suguru squints as his friend swivels around to face the wall, pushing his bangs away to get a better view of the— oh shit.

it takes the raven-haired man a second to process what he's seeing before shuffling forward, closely examining the achingly red, bulging scratch marks displayed sexily across the latter's back and shoulders. "no way.."

suguru knows the strongest sorcerer well enough to notice how he purposely didn't use reversed cursed technique on these scratches, just so it'd be obvious to anyone that caught a glimpse of what exactly occured. to his further dismay, he can already picture a smug and sweaty gojo walking around their local gym like this, proud simper on his pretty lips as he easily raises a pair of weights in his veiny hands.

a hiss escapes geto's mouth as he runs his finger down a particularly agitated one, knowing exactly how painful they could be after experiencing many hook-ups of his own. even so, satoru only licks his lips, neck craning to the side so he can pride himself in his friend's gobsmacked expression.

"damn, these are deep. you actually hit it?" suguru confirms, raising a celebratory hand.

turning back around, satoru daps him up, a massive smirk now on both their faces. "hell yeah, it was amazing."

it was impossible to predict what gojo would do next after barging through his front door — especially considering how many times he's done so — but this has to be the last thing suguru ever expected.

not that he was complaining — in fact, all of geto's temper and need for relaxation seemingly flew out the window, the feeling of proudness for his best friend overthrowing anything else.

and even if he hated to admit it, the way gojo was so eager to come over and announce his virginity loss to him was more than a little endearing, and dare he say cute.

"that's great, man. congrats." suguru leads him into the kitchen — still shamelessly shirtless — to grab them both a can of beer in celebration. while the white-haired man usually didn't get involved with any form of alcohol, this occasion was most definitely exception-worthy. "you made y/n cum too, right?"

an offended glare is shot his way. "duh, two times."

"huh. surprised you could last."

as suguru pours their drinks into two fragile cups, gojo exhales, not bothered in the slightest by his jab. "dude, same.." he admits dreamily. "she was so fuckin' tight and warm.. and oh— fuck, her moans? heavenly.. 'can't believe i didn't bust after the first minute.."

geto gulps, trying his best to ignore the mental image his brain was producing from his dirty words. you can't blame him — both of you were smoking hot, and he was a simple man.

even now, he could already imagine what you both looked like; panting and moaning, skin-slapping so loud that it echoed through the whole room, how blissed out you'd look as gojo's cock split you in t—

satoru's playful sigh cuts through the tensing air. "who knows sugs, maybe you'll have another kind of stain to worry about next time we're over~"

he's never snapped out of a daydream so quickly. "don't even joke about that."

over the next hour, the two men sat manspread on the stained couch, taking leisure sips while recalling satoru's final moments as a virgin — suguru giving out his secret tips and tricks along the way.

maybe sometime, suguru could offer some.. hands-on learning instead.

mlist! <- sugu.. how could u think abt ur bestie and his gf like that... tsk tsk tsk (if u enjoyed reblogs/comments r appreciated heheh)

© inmaki on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not cross-post, translate, copy in any way, etc.

[aayakashii]

After a long time, I offer you the sequel to this fic here 🤲

Warnings: *BANGING POTS AND PANS* KUUYA IS A SUBMISSIVE PATHETIC LOSER YANDERE IF YOU DON'T LIKE MALE SUBS YOU MIGHT NOT LIKE THIS!!!! Also: NSFW and yandere themes from Kuuya and the reader; reader is gender neutral and AFAB; 9k words 💀

Kuuya is a @devotion-disorder OC and they gave me permission to write more abt their sad and wet cat <3 I hope you like it!!! The art below is theirs as well!

♡ cannibalism as a metaphor for love ♡

The clock ticked a little bit past 6PM. You frowned as you watched the last rays of sun fade away in the sky, thinking about your house – how you could be wearing your comfortable pajamas, making some greasy popcorn while you watched a bad horror movie.

Instead, all that you had was that non-ergonomic chair, a coffee that had already gone cold and bitter and the glaring blue light of your computer burning your retinas.

You were working overtime.

It’s not a new concept for you per se, not in a black corporation such as the one you worked for. It’s just that on that specific day, it felt like everyone had left the building but you. Every cubicle was empty and the room was incredibly dim – it was anxiety inducing. You turned on as many lights as you could and put some background music to feel less isolated, but the setting simply didn’t help. You were locked in that little dystopian bubble all on your own and no amount of piled up work could make you concentrate properly when it felt like you were in purgatory.

Outside, a loud thunder made the window panes vibrate and you sighed.

“Fuck this” you murmured, getting up. You’d at least make some more coffee. Would you feel even more anxious? Yes. But you needed something to distract yourself with and brewing a new, actually sweetened pot of coffee would have to do.

You briskly walked towards the break room, trying to avoid thinking about the oppressing darkness that surrounded you, staring at your feet. However, you soon slowed down – the door to the office kitchen was closed, and you could see the light was on from the crack under the door. 

Common sense would allow you to come to the conclusion that probably someone else was in the building with you, after all. 

But in that moment, all that blared in your mind were the sirens of dread. Your mind went from thinking that a serial killer was hiding in the pantry to imagining a deadly monster coming to whisk you away before you ever thought about some other colleague being in the building with you.

You crossed your fingers hoping it was just the (possibly hot) monster from another dimension coming to kidnap you and slowly opened the door, ready to run if needed.

Instead, you were met with the curved back and the mop of messy lilac hair of someone you knew oh too well.

“Kuuya?” you called, quietly.

“AH!” he flinched, crinkling the plastic cup he had in his hand and spinning around to look at you. The water he was pouring in his cup splashed on his button up shirt and he looked like a deer caught in headlights.

You raised your hands up, like you would do to a feral animal to show you mean no harm.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to spook you. I didn’t know there was someone else here. I thought I was alone.” you said, entering the room and feeling a little bit relieved to see another sign of life in that somber building.

Even if it was from your cute and creepy little stalker.

Kuuya hurriedly grabbed a napkin and began dabbing at his shirt, nodding silently and avoiding your eyes.

You sighed loudly as you began rummaging the kitchen’s cabinets for all the supplies you needed.

As much as you allowed yourself to indulge in your sick fantasies when it came to him, most of the time Kuuya just frustrated you. You wondered if he would ever try to talk to you. Hell, would he ever even look at you in your eyes for more than a second? It was maddening.

You knew he was far from innocent, no matter how reserved he acted around you. Didn't he literally follow you to your home just to jerk off in the bushes by your window? Where is all that courage when you're right next to him?

You wouldn't mind actually taking the initiative, but most of the time you honestly felt like you were crazy. Maybe you were so horny for that sad wet cat that you were hallucinating. 

Maybe he never went to your house and it was just the wishful thinking of your deeply, deeply perverted mind.

Maybe he actually wanted to run away from you whenever you were around, but you were just too insane so you kept imagining him fisting his cock just because you breathed near him.

Although they do say that insane people never think they're insane.

God! If only he gave you A DIRECT SIGN! A green light! Something that would let you know you can take charge!

No matter how adorable his bashfulness was, he still made you feel like you were kicking a baby animal whenever you addressed him directly. And honestly, that didn't really help his case.

“Are you… okay?” his quiet voice snapped you out of your thoughts and you noticed how you were crouching and staring at a dead empty cabinet for way longer than necessary. You closed the door and got up quickly, clearing your throat.

“We’re out of coffee.” you said, pulling your phone out of your pocket. “I'm gonna order something to eat. Is there anything you want?”

Kuuya was one step away from being malnourished, you noticed. You wouldn't mind putting some food inside that scrawny body.

“Um… No, it’s not necessary… I don’t really have… um… money…”

You waved your hand dismissively as you scrolled through a delivery app.

“That doesn’t matter. I’m paying.”

Kuuya shook his head frantically while waving his hands.

“N-no, I can’t accept that!”

You side-eyed him and he visibly flinched under your glare.

“Even if you don’t tell me what you want to eat, I’m gonna order something for us. We are quite literally stranded here, I’m not going to let you go hungry.” you shrugged.

He fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. God, he was so cute. Why did he act like you would straight up kill him if he said something wrong, though? Were you that intimidating? Well, not intimidating enough to keep him from masturbating right by your bedroom and stealing your stuff, apparently.

“Also” you continued “It’s going to rain soon, apparently. I don't want to make some delivery guy go out in the rain to deliver us food once we’re actually hungry, so I'll just do it now.”

Kuuya opened and closed his mouth, as if he wanted to say something, but nothing would come out. He looked like a little fish, you thought, as you waited for him to say something. When he didn’t after a whole minute, you just shrugged.

“Is chicken sandwich and fries okay with you?”

He nodded, hesitant yet still licking his lips unconsciously at the thought of some good actual food. You figured he was probably very hungry. In fact, you could picture it very clearly: Kuuya getting home and just eating the least nutritious instant noodles in the world, day after day. No wonder he looked so tired all the time. He was probably running low on fuel for way too long.

“Okay. So I’m gonna order those, and also some coffee and cookies. If I'm gonna stay here and be tortured by all the work I gotta do, I wanna at least have something tasty to console me.” you mumbled, more to yourself than anyone else.

And as you placed the order, you ended up missing the little lovestruck smile that quickly appeared on Kuuya’s face.

You had gone back to your cubicle while you waited for your order. Knowing you weren't completely alone calmed your nerves and you managed to work properly for the time it took for your food to arrive.

Once you had all the bags in your hands, you walked back to the kitchen and the door was open just like you had left it. Kuuya was still there, sitting at the table, nursing a tepid cup of water.

“You didn't go back to your work station ?” you said, putting the multiple bags of food on the table, earning a startled yelp from him again. You raised an eyebrow and huffed out a laugh. “You're more skittish than I am.”

He pursed his lips into a thin line, avoiding your eyes.

“S-sorry…”

You shook your head.

“There's no reason to apologize. Here, the food arrived. Let's eat?”

He nodded, hurriedly getting up to help you set up plates and cups down, wobbling a little bit like he had to consciously think about how to walk properly.

You looked at him through the corner of your eye while he washed a few dishes. 

Kuuya always seemed like he was in distress. His shoulders looked tense like a violin string and there was always a little crease on his forehead. His eyebrows were almost always scrunched and raised up, giving him that kicked puppy look to his face that you found so endearing. It made you want to hold him in your arms and massage those little shoulders until they were soft under your fingers, and kiss those worry lines until he relaxed, even if just for a little while.

You clenched and unclenched your fingers, quickly busying yourself with putting the now clean plates on the table, otherwise you'd jump at him as soon as he looked at you with those pink doe eyes that you so deeply wished you could stare at for hours on end.

If only he wasn't so easily frightened.

Soon enough, everything was set on the table, ready for you to eat.

“Alright” you sat down and motioned vaguely towards the food “Dig in! Don’t be shy.”

Kuuya slowly sat down, eyeing the sandwiches like he had never seen food before in his life. Still, he kept his hands to himself and fidgeted on his chair.

“Is something wrong?”

“I- I feel like I should be paying for this. I promise I'll repay you once I get my next paycheck.” he mumbled, looking extremely embarrassed.

You tutted, shaking your head.

“Nonsense. You don't have to pay for anything. Now eat. It'll make me glad if you eat properly. That's how you can pay me back.”

He pouted for a moment, considering your words, then hesitantly grabbed the sandwich, giving it a nibble. His face lit up at the taste of the sandwich and his inhibitions then seemed to go down a little. He took a bigger bite, chewing happily. His chin was slightly smeared with sauce and you smiled.

So fucking cute.

As you ate, you noticed how he kept on shaking and nodding his head in order to move the long lilac bang that covered his right eye away from his mouth. After a few more moments just watching him struggle, you got up from your seat.

“Here, let me help you.” You reached inside your pockets and showed him a hair clip you always kept at hand. You reached out for his bangs, hovering your hand over his hair as if to ask for permission to put the clip on him.

He unceremoniously slapped his hands over his bangs and right eye, hard.

“N-no!” He yelled, sounding terrified.

You jumped, surprised at his uncharacteristic reaction, and raised your arms again, the second time that day.

“Okay, okay. Sorry, I won't touch it. You can put it on your hair if you'd like it, then. No pressure” you said, still offering the hair clip.

He slowly moved his hands away from his eye, shaking as he grabbed the clip from your palm. 

“O-okay…thank you and… sorry…” he mumbled, gripping the clip tightly inside his fist.

“It's no problem. Just… please pin it in a way that will keep your hair from touching your food” you grimaced “That's not really hygienic.”

He clumsily pinned his hair to his scalp, the bangs still completely covering his right eye, but somehow precariously pinned right over his ear. You gave him a nod of approval.

“I guess that's good enough.”

You two continued eating, a painfully awkward silence looming in the atmosphere, as the heavy rain that had threatened to fall all night finally pattered against the windows.

You figured you wouldn't try to break that silence, despite how uncomfortable it was. It was time for him to try and communicate with you too, and if he didnt, well. You wouldn't spread yourself thin just to receive a few nods and indiscernible  mumbles, no matter how adorable he was whenever he was flustered.

Kuuya politely thanked you for the food as he finished eating, right at the same time as you. He pushed his chair, the grating sound against the floor making the both of you flinch. He straightened himself up, as much as his hunched back would allow him to, and cleared his throat.

“I, uh. I have to go to the bathroom. I'll- I'll clean everything up, so you can leave it there. I'll be right- I'll be right back.” He stuttered, eyes flitting everywhere around the corners of the kitchen, except to you. He was tightly grabbing his elbow with his other hand, until he visibly relaxed when you nodded at his words, like he needed your permission, and scrambled out of the room.

You waited a minute or two after he left, before getting up and quickly walking towards the men's bathroom as well.

Yeah, right. Sure. Bathroom.

You might not have known Kuuya that well yet, but you knew one little thing: he was a terrible liar.

You opened the door to the bathroom as quietly as you could, hoping it wouldn't creak and possibly rat you out. When you managed to close it behind you without a sound, you exhaled a breath you didn't even know you were holding.

Stepping slowly and carefully, you walked towards the bathroom stalls and stood still for a second.

Yeah. There it was.

Your mouth quirked up into a pleased smile when you heard the sound of heavy breathing coming from a stall to your left. Gasps and choked out little moans reached your ears and went straight into your core.

Kuuya was jerking off in that bathroom stall.

You licked your lips and kept moving slowly, much like a predator trying not to be seen. You slotted yourself into the stall right beside him and crouched on top of the toilet, effectively hiding your feet from him in case he looked down.

But from the sounds coming out of his stall, he was already way too cumbrained to notice anything around him.

You could hear the sounds of his hand rubbing his cock mercilessly as he groaned, probably a little louder than he should if he was trying to be subtle.

Your breathing became heavy.

You found yourself imagining his hand grabbing his shaft tightly, rubbing his thumb against the angry pink tip of his dick, smearing the beads of precum all over his length. His other hand would be lifting his shirt to pinch and pull at his nipple, eliciting those cute little gasps you kept hearing from where you were standing.

Begrudgingly, you undid your pants’ zipper and shoved your hand into your already leaking cunt.

His moans got louder, the lewd, wet sounds of him fucking his own hand going faster and you thought of how his cock would be twitching, balls heavy with cum tightening as a warning sign that he was about to come undone.

Your fingers circled your clit, eyes closed and mouth agape with a silent moan at how fucking hot he sounded and how filthy you felt for getting off to him without his consent – but it's not like he didn't do the same to you before.

A loud, shaky moan came out of him as he apparently came all over his own hand. You thought of how he would ride his own high, squeezing every last drop of his load out of his cock until the overstimulation would be too much and he'd halt his movements.

You heard him pant heavily, stopping your movements so he wouldn't hear the wet sounds of your pussy. You were so far away from your own high, but listening to his little mewls was more than worth the frustration.

Until he opened his mouth again to moan your name.

“I love you… I love you I love you I love you, fuckfuckfuck I love you so so much.. a-ah fuuuuck…” the sounds of him furiously jerking off reached your ears again and your eyes fluttered shut as you tried to control your breathing.

He kept moaning and whining your name over and over again, probably leaning against the stall's wall as everything began to shake in the same rhythm of his hips.

You bit your knuckle hard, trying to avoid making any sounds while you rubbed yourself, chasing your orgasm to the glorious sound of your pathetic stalker fucking himself silly in your workplace's bathroom.

His whiny, slutty voice sounded like honey, viscous and sweet – something that you would swallow eagerly, leaving your tongue heavy with his syrupy, nauseating taste. 

You bit your knuckle harder as you felt the frustration of chasing a release that would not come, because you desperately wanted to taste him; to glide your tongue over his skin and memorize the salty flavor of his sweat and the musky scent of his body. Anything else would not work for you anymore.

You could eat him whole, truly. You needed your hands and your stomach and your pussy to be full of him. Urgently.

You stopped toying with your clit, allowing the anger of not even having a sad, unsatisfying orgasm wash over your body.

Kuuya seemed to finish much quicker this time, your name in his lips loud as he came a second time.

You looked down and bit your lip, pulling your own hair in frustration – you could see a few drops of his cum drip onto the bathroom floor, pitifully wasted.

Closing your eyes, you forced yourself to breathe deeply and closed your eyes. 

First, you needed to get out of there without him noticing so he wouldn't have a mental breakdown and run away. And then, only after that, you could think of the next steps of your plan.

You allowed yourself to rest your head against the wall, waiting for him to clean himself up and leave.

It was so weird, this desperate attraction you had for Kuuya and how afraid you were of messing everything up. You had your previous crushes before, sure. But nothing was ever as strong as the desire you had to cradle that stupid man in your arms and keep him with you, safe. 

You knew things were different once you found out he was obsessed with you and it still didn't extinguish that little fire inside of your core.

Usually, you'd lose interest in people as soon as they began expressing interest in you as well – you knew it was wrong and you had brought it up during therapy sessions, but it never really bothered you.

Until Kuuya. 

When you confirmed your suspicions (that he was insanely obsessed and even went as far as stalking you) you felt a strange excitement bubble in your stomach – like you had achieved something.

It made you shiver in anticipation for those little moments in which your eyes would meet his and he'd blush furiously, or when you'd purposely brush your hand against his only to watch how he twitched and rubbed his thighs together.

You were addicted to him. You wanted him even more after finding out about his feelings, and that was new to you. That was something you weren't willing to let go.

And with that, came the fear that Kuuya might be just like you. What if he was an emotionally constipated mess like yourself? What if he lost all interest as soon as you gave him an opening? Just because he was different for you, didn't mean you'd be special to him, in the off case he had the same bad habits.

That was why you were so cautious, so slow in your movements. You didn't want him to run. You didn't want to lose the feeling of being reciprocated. You'd protect it the same way you'd protect a tiny flame against the whip of a merciless wind.

But after hearing him moan your name like a needy whore, you didn't think you could hold it in anymore.

Kuuya had already left for a good 5 minutes while you were lost in your thoughts.

You quickly cleaned yourself and walked towards the sinks to wash your hands. You looked at yourself in the mirror of the men's bathroom. Sweat stuck to your forehead and your face looked flush. You were out of breath and your heart beat fast and loud inside your ribcage.

You turned on the sink, splashing cold water against your face and, after you dried up, you stared at your reflection again.

Well. So Kuuya had loudly moaned your name as he fucked his own fist. And you had masturbated to the sounds of his gasps and mumbles of your name.

No matter how paranoid you were – you were very much sure you weren't fucking hallucinating any of that.

“Walk me home?” you went to his desk after you finished the last of the details in your reports, fully intent on taking him with you to your home.

‘It’s now or never’, you thought to yourself.

“S-sorry?” he sputtered.

“Walk me home?" you repeated "The rain stopped, but it's kinda late. I don't want to walk alone. It's too dark.” 

He seemed to consider your request for way too long. Anxiety began bubbling in the pit of your stomach, and, for a moment, you thought it'd be better to just pretend you never asked anything, until he answered you.

“Okay… I can go with you.” he murmured, getting up and grabbing his shoulder bag.

You let out a breath of relief you didn't know you were holding, and smiled.

“Thank you, Kuuya!”

You didn't miss how he bit his lips and shivered at your words.

The walk home was uneventful, as you expected. Kuuya walked by your side and insisted on staying on the road's side of the sidewalk. You praised him for being a gentleman and he became a blushing and stuttering mess, but besides that, he was quiet. 

You arrived at your door and Kuuya hovered right beside you, watching you fumble with your keys.

You weren't very good at hiding your anxiety after all.

Once the door opened, you stepped inside and held it for him.

“Come inside for a moment.” you murmured after clearing your throat.

You watched his throat bob up and down when he swallowed hard. He probably had many questions and, honestly, you couldn't blame him. You had no reason to invite him to your house.

At least not obvious reasons, that is.

He did as you told after a few seconds of hesitation, although he had confusion written all over his face.

“Why… why did you invite me in?” he finally asked while he watched you shrug off your coat and kick off your boots. You motioned for him to take off his shoes as well and leave them beside yours.

“Just something I gotta do.” you answered, observing him clumsily undo the knots on his shoes.

He cocked his head to the side, looking up at you.

“What?”

Once he was finished putting his shoes right beside yours, you beckoned him with your finger, and began walking deeper inside your house and towards your room, hoping he would follow.

He did, dumb shock plastered on his face, but still compliant.

You opened the door and motioned for him to enter. As soon as he was inside, you slammed the door behind you and locked it.

Kuuya's eyes were wide as he quickly turned to look at you. He seemed terrified, the poor thing, but this time you wouldn't back down. You couldn't.

“Shhh, it's okay. No need to be so scared” you shushed him as he opened his mouth, walking slowly towards him. You placed your hand on his chest and pushed him towards your bed.

When he plopped unceremoniously on the mattress, you looked at his pants.

He was already hard.

You smirked.

“Do you know why I brought you here?” you asked in a murmur while you leaned towards his trembling figure, wiping a few stray tears from his cheeks with your thumb and holding your weight over him with your other arm.

“N-no…?”

You cocked your head, actually surprised at his answer.

“Really? Are you really that clueless?” you traced his jaw with your finger, and he squirmed underneath you, rubbing his thighs together to get any friction on the bulge inside his pants.

“I…” he cleared his throat “I don't understand.”

“Well, I, for one, am not clueless you know.” your fingers traced the length of his neck, and you smiled when a few goosebumps pricked his skin.

He gulped.

“I know you jerked off to me earlier today.” you said flatly, with a sickening sweet voice while your finger now teased and rubbed his pebbled nipples through his shirt.

He gasped and you didn't know if it was from surprise or pleasure.

“I also know you followed me some weeks ago and jerked off in that bush outside my window.” you pointed to the window hidden behind your blinds and he followed your gaze, eyes watery and cheeks a bright red.

“And I know you steal my stuff and my trash so you can keep it.” he was still looking at your window when you palmed his bulge through his pants. He arched his back, moaning loudly, and you grinned maniacally at his reaction.

Pretty slut.

“Do you… D-do you think I'm disgusting?” he asked, shamelessly grinding his hips against your palm.

“Yeah, I do. I think you're disgusting and a creep.” he moaned at your words, but his eyes closed tightly, and a few more tears ran down his cheeks. He had a pained expression on his pretty face, like you had hurt his fragile feelings.

Apparently Kuuya knew how to tug on your heartstrings.

You moved your hand away from his pants, fully aware of the damp spot that had formed on the fabric.

“But so am I.” you completed and he opened his eyes wide, looking at you like you had just grown a second head.

“Seeing you so desperate and needy…” you shook your head in defeat “It does things to me, you know.”

“I-it does?” he asked, all doe eyed, blushing and hopeful. You sighed at the sight, trying to burn it forever into your brain.

“Mhm. Yeah. It makes me wanna eat you whole.”

Kuuya shuddered as you placed your hand back on his chest, gliding it towards his throat. You held his neck firmly for a second before you gently cupped his warm and reddened cheek. He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes like a cat.

“Will you let me, Kuuya?” you whispered.

“W-what?” He opened his still teary eyes, gazing at you expectantly.

“Will you let me eat you?”

A beat of silence went by and you almost felt the ugly head of shame peek into your mind, but then he nodded, a single tear falling onto your thumb.

“Y-yes.”

Like a thin thread snapping, you kneeled onto the ground and pulled his waist towards you, letting his legs hang limply on your sides. Your fingers trembled as you undid his belt buckle and you looked at him.

Kuuya was propping himself onto one of his elbows, his other hand covering his mouth as he watched you hastily take off his pants and boxers. His hard cock sprung free, leaking pathetically, and your mouth watered at the sight.

You were starving. 

It was time to eat.

Kuuya felt like he was dreaming. Or maybe he died and his very own heaven (if he would even be allowed there) was having you suck his painfully hard cock.

He forced his eyes to stay open so he could watch you. The way your tongue swirled on his head and pressed mercilessly on his slit – you had barely put his cock inside your mouth and he already felt like he was melting.

He knew he was sounding pathetic. He whined and squirmed against your hands while you kept his thighs open. It was so good, it was feeling so good he was losing control of his body.

When you started bobbing your head, hollowing your cheeks to suck him harshly, he thought he would die. It had to be wrong, to feel this good. It was criminal.

Kuuya moaned like a whore and, deep inside, in the still conscious part of his mind, he wondered if you liked it. He hoped you did, he hoped his pathetic high pitched groans made you soak your panties because he couldn't control them.

Not when you were sucking him so good.

He bucked his hips against your mouth, the sound of your gag snapping him out of his daze for a moment so he could mumble a “sorry”, but then you moaned. 

You moaned and the vibrations of your throat went through his cock and he lost it, completely. He held your head firmly, thrusting frantically into your mouth as he repeated “'m sorry! 'm sorry! 'm sorry!” until the words lost all meaning to him. With a stutter, his hips bucked again and he spilled inside your mouth, his slurred words elongating into a pornographic moan.

You opened your mouth wide, relaxing your throat as soon as his cum began spurting, eagerly swallowing the salty taste of him while he rode his orgasm until he couldn't take the stimulation of your soft mouth anymore. 

As you dabbed the drops of cum that had spilled from your mouth, he suddenly wondered, in the back of his mind, if you already had any practice doing this kind of stuff. He panted, face warm and red, dick twitching while he looked at you wiping your mouth and licking your fingers. And he felt jealous at the thought.

He wanted to be the only one. He couldn't handle the thought of you touching anyone else like that. He hated it. Hated it. He had to be the only one you'd touch like that. God, he wished he could go back in time to prevent you from touching anyone else, just so you'd always be his alone.

A few angry tears pricked in the corner of his eyes and he tackled you to the ground, surprising you with a hug.

“K-kuuya?!” you squeaked, the air leaving your lungs went he laid all his weight on you.

Kuuya began rubbing his cheek against yours, sharing the sweat that stuck to his forehead with your face, making you grimace.

“W-what's wrong?” You asked in a murmur, after reciprocating his hug.

He whined wordlessly and began untangling himself from you, holding himself up by his trembling arms.

And, for a long moment, he just stared at you.

You thought he looked beautiful. 

He wasn't exactly the most handsome man in the world, but to you, he looked angelic.

His lilac hair was disheveled and his face was flushed. His lips were a pretty red, as if he had bitten them too hard, and his eyes were half-lidded and clouded with lust and sheer adoration. It sent tingles down your spine. You wondered if anyone has ever looked at you like that, but you already knew that no one has ever held you in such high regard. It made your heart race and your core burn. 

You could sear the image of him under your eyelids and you would never tire of it.

He was gorgeous.

You tucked a strand of damp hair behind his ear and then cupped his cheek. Your thumb rubbed his skin gently and his eyes fluttered shut. He began leaning against your touch again, before he stopped himself and opened his eyes. You looked at him, puzzled, when he averted his gaze.

“U-um…” he began, after clearing his throat. You kept quiet, allowing for him to continue.

“C-can I… um. Can I eat you too?” He mumbled, closing his eyes tightly. You felt your face tingle at his words and his adorable embarrassment.

“Yes” you murmured and he opened his eyes wide “Yes, please.”

Kuuya quickly sat up on his knees, and looked around, apparently finally realizing you two were laying on the ground.

“Do you… want to move to the bed?” he asked bashfully, and you chuckled.

“Yes, it'd be more comfortable.”

He got up, holding out his hand to help you up as well. He didn't really have enough strength to pull you up, so you just held his hand tightly, not wanting to reject his help, as you gracelessly lifted yourself from the ground.

As soon as you were standing, you began pushing the waistband of your pants down, but Kuuya's hands quickly stopped you, holding you tightly. You widened your eyes as you looked at him.

“I… want to do that.” he said, bashfully.

Wow. Who would have thought he'd be so brazen for once.

You smiled, nodding, and laid on your bed, making yourself comfortable. 

You observed how Kuuya was already rock hard again and he had yet to touch you properly. He was insatiable for you and it made your pussy clench around nothing. 

He was going to be the death of you.

Kuuya, in a sudden development, decided that it didn't matter what happened in the past. What happened, happened. All he needed to do was make you forget about it all.

He needed to be good. He needed to fuck you so good that you'd forget anyone you might have hooked up with in the past. He needed to make you addicted to his tongue, his fingers and his cock so you'd always go back to him for more.

Granted, he didn't know how he was going to do that since he was a literal virgin, but he hoped his enthusiasm would convince you to give him more chances, until he had mapped every little crevice of your body and all the little buttons that made you squirm.

Kuuya licked his lips, slowly pulling the hem of your pants down while he kneeled on your bed. The sight of your soaked panties made him gasp loud, and he had to grip the base of his cock tightly, hissing as he threw his head back. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down while he swallowed hard, concentrating on not allowing himself to cum.

He couldn't allow himself to cum untouched just by looking at your wet cunt. At least not in front of you. Not right there. He would, however, be filing this image inside the safest corners of his brain to become prime masturbation material later on, that's for sure.

He leaned in, warm and shaky breath hitting the damp spot on your panties. His tongue lolled out unconsciously and he licked a long stripe over the fabric of your underwear.

He was so sure he had died. That's the only possible answer for all the things happening right at that moment. Not only did you suck him, now he was tasting your pussy?

Oh god. He was tasting your pussy.

It was like something broke inside of him, allowing all of his obsession to spill over as soon as he pressed his tongue against you. He moaned loudly, ripping your underwear away only to grip it tightly in his hand as he, at last, dived into you.

He was going to keep it to himself as a prize. 

Kuuya slurped and sucked and licked your wetness like a starved man. He wasn't focusing on the task at hand; instead, he was just getting drunk on your juices and your musk, moaning like someone who had just eaten the most delicious sweet. Oh he was so cute, all pussydrunk like that.

You hummed, gently holding a fistful of his hair as you grinded lightly against his eager tongue. You… probably weren't going to cum if he didn't suck you with a little bit more intent, but you figured you'd just let him enjoy himself for a bit more.

Just looking at his eyes rolling and hearing the sinful whimpers and grunts he was letting out was already doing something to you.

Soon enough, however, Kuuya seemed to discover that one little bundle of nerves. He gave it a few kitten licks before curling his lips against it to suck, and it was finally your turn to roll your eyes.

Your hand gripped his hair tighter and your back arched while he rolled his tongue against your clit; eyes wide when he realized he must have done something right.

One of his hands tentatively rubbed against your entrance and you cooed.

“Yes Kuuya, that's a good boy… Put one of your fingers inside me, baby”

He gasped against your pussy, the praise clearly making him lose his focus. A mean part of your brain thought about stuffing him with a butt plug just so you could make him wag a little tail whenever you praised him, but that would have to be an adventure for a later time.

He began pumping two fingers inside you, mouth going slack in awe once he heard the shlick of your wet cunt, and drool pooling at the side of his mouth.

He was so clueless and so, so cute. You couldn't help but think about actually making a mess of him.

“Kuuya” you said, not as a moan, but as a call. He stopped his motions for a second and looked at you – doe eyed, mouth and chin still glistening with your cum.

You licked your lips at the sight.

“I'll sit up a bit. I want you to lay down on the bed.” You said, as you shifted your position and rested your back against the headrest, making him crawl towards you to keep his head between your legs.

You watched as he slowly rested his body against the bed, a little yelp coming out of his lips when his hardened length pressed against the mattress.

“Good boy.” You praised him as you ran your knuckles on the sticky skin of his cheek and he whined.

“Now I want you to hump the bed while you eat me out.” you said, flatly.

Kuuya's eyes widened like saucers.

“W-what?” 

“You're hard, aren't you?” You ran your hand through his head, caressing his hair gently “I want you to fuck the bed while you eat me out. I want to watch you move your hips like a pretty slut. Can you do that for me?” 

He blinked, staying silent as you kept threading your fingers through his hair. The furious blush that spread through his face and neck was anything but unnoticeable.

“I can give you a pillow, if you'd rather hump it instead of the bed” you added, figuring he was probably already addicted to humping his own pillow like a dog in heat, so it wouldn't hurt to make him comfortable while he obeyed you.

“Y-yes… I would like a pillow then.” He whispered.

You mouthed an okay and gave him your favorite pillow – the one you usually hugged while sleeping. You wondered if he knew that. And by the way his eyes lit up when he saw the pillow, you figured he probably did.

“Take off your shirt? Please?” you asked him, after he positioned the pillow where he wanted it to be.

Kuuya pouted at your request, and as you were about to tell him he didn't need to do it if it made him uncomfortable, his trembling hands moved to unbutton his shirt slowly. You reached out to him, pausing his hands. He looked at you, sad puppy eyes glistening with tears.

“Do you want to take off your shirt? You don't have to if you don't want to.” you reassured him.

He sniffled, looking away.

“I-I don't mind.” he mumbled and you knew he was probably hiding his discomfort to please you and would never tell you the truth. 

Kuuya seemed thirsty for your approval in every little thing, to the detriment of himself. It made a little monster inside of you roar with the desperate need to keep him tucked away, safe with you, just like a dragon who hoards gold in a faraway cave.

Your thumb caressed his still trembling hands.

“Then just leave these buttons undone. You don't have to take it off.”

“But-”

“Kuuya.” You said his name firmly, making him flinch despite the gentle touch of your hand against his. You noticed how his cock twitched at that as well. “It's okay. Now please be a good boy.”

You went back to your position against the headrest and opened your legs, pussy still dripping and throbbing with the lack of attention. He gulped, licking his lips and nodded furiously.

It was hard, coordinating his movements. All Kuuya had known his whole life was to jerk off or hump his pillow, but now he had to suck you, lick you, pump his fingers inside you AND hump your precious pillow. Not that he was complaining. He loved it. It was Heaven.

But he felt a bit self conscious about his abilities, or lack thereof.

Just like he was self conscious when you asked him to strip. He hated his body – he was so scrawny and weak-looking, he felt disgusting. What if you hated him? What if you wanted something else in a partner? He couldn't risk having you uninterested in him! Not when he got what he so desperately wanted!

Showing you his body would have to wait until he was either convinced you truly wanted him, or until he got you locked up in his apartment. The last option was the most tempting to him – having you shackled to his barred window would be a guarantee that you wouldn't run away after all.

But for now, all he could do was his best – all while suffocating you with his affections until you drowned in them.

The squelching sounds of your pussy as he pumped his fingers inside you were driving him insane.

Kuuya humped your pillow like a dumb dog in heat – his hips almost bounced against the bed with how hard and deep he was thrusting. He couldn't wait until he was balls deep inside your cunt, the leaky tip of his cock kissing your cervix until he filled you whole.

He felt dizzy. He half registered how loud his moans were; all he could think was about your cum all over his face and how he fucked your pillow, mean and fast.

“C-curl your fingers up, baby” you whined, pulling his hair, and this finally got his attention.

He acquiesced, because he was good. He was so good for you and he was going to learn everything you liked because no one else would ever touch your body ever again. 

Only him.

And he had to learn it all to keep you satisfied and happy, so you'd praise him and fuck the brains out of him as a reward. It was the perfect exchange! You'd be his and he'd be yours and nothing could ever keep his grubby hands away from you now.

He would do whatever you asked.

He felt a spongy texture against the pad of his fingers, and when you mewled, legs spasming around him, he knew he had found gold, somehow.

He halted the movement of his hips to focus on swirling his tongue against your clit and fingering your cunt at an insane speed. He would for sure be extremely sore the next day, but he only cared about your loud moans and how your thighs were squishing his head so tight and so good.

When you finally came, he groaned at the feeling of your cunt squeezing his fingers inside you, pulling them deeper inside with a vice grip, and the taste of your cum wetting his whole face. He reached his own peak at the thought of how HE was the one who made you curl your toes and soak your bed sheets like that.

And another proof that he was made for you was added into his mind.

But it was too fucking much. For the first time in his life, Kuuya felt drunk. He needed more or he would die. He needed more more more more.

Maybe more than you could even give.

He didn't let you breathe at all.

As soon as your eyes fluttered open again, coming down from your high, he began crawling on top of you, panting like a feral dog. You watched as a sticky thread of his cum momentarily connected his dick to your now wet pillow and despite all that, he was still fucking hard. How was that even possible was beyond you, but you didn't have time to linger on those thoughts when he hovered over you.

“I wanna cum in you” he moaned, still moving his hips, humping your mound. His eyes were glazed over, like he wasn't all there with you, and his pupils were blown wide.

“I wanna cum in you” he repeated, panting, a little bit of drool spilling from the corner of his mouth “I need to cum in-inside you. I need to fill you up, please. Let me breed you? Please? I wanna be inside you and hnng- pump you full of my cum, please? Let me cum inside, please? Please please please let me breed you, please” he slurred nonstop, almost incoherently, while he frantically moved his hips like he couldn't control them.

He was so drunk with you that he was desperate and talking like he had never done before. 

It was pathetic. 

And so fucking hot.

“Shhh baby, it's okay” you cooed, petting his head to calm him down while your other hand squeezed his hip to try and still his movements “You can fuck me, it's okay. I'm not going anywhere.”

He whined, nodding his head and sniffling as a few tears ran down his cheeks, seemingly coming back to his senses a little bit.

“It's okay, love” you pulled his head towards you, cradling him on your chest. You kept on petting him, while your other hand softly scratched his back in order to calm him down.

Once his breathing was a little less erratic, you let him raise his chest again.

“You okay?” you murmured.

He nodded, rubbing his eyes. Then he looked down at his cock and back at you. You chuckled. He really was insatiable.

You threw your arms around his neck, eyes half-lidded.

“Then go on and fill me up” you murmured against his ear, enjoying the shiver that went down his spine.

You didn't need to ask twice.

Kuuya was so nervous.

He was about to be inside his love! He was about to fill them up with his cum, but the thought itself was already throwing him to the edge. He would have to do his best to not cum once he felt your gummy walls squeeze his cock.

Easier said than done.

Kuuya threw his head back again, a guttural moan erupting from his chest as soon as he got the head past your entrance. He heaved loudly, focusing so hard on not spilling himself so soon, whimpering whenever your walls clenched around him.

“Y-you okay?” you asked breathlessly and all he could do was nod with a pained expression on his face.

“It's okay, take it slow” you added, gently rubbing his thighs. 

You were an angel, truly. Only you would have so much patience with someone as pathetic as him. He had to fuck you good! He had to show you that you could depend on him! This way you would keep pampering him like he so desperately needed.

Through pure determination, Kuuya pushed himself further, moaning pornographically with every inch that went inside you. Once you had taken him down his hilt, he exhaled, shakily.

“T-there you go…” you groaned “Filling me up so much, my good boy.”

Kuuya whimpered. He was torn between asking you not to say those things so he wouldn't cum, and lapping up your praise like a parched man.

He began moving, slowly thrusting in and out of your wet cunt, and he felt like he was melting all over again. He was going to be just a puddle, with how good it felt. You clenched tightly around his length like you were trying to milk him dry and he realized that he was probably going to be addicted to this from then on – there was no going back.

His nails dug into the plush of your hips as he began pounding into you, fast and erratic, the sounds of his balls slapping against your ass and the wet noise of his cock being drenched in your juices were so dirty and he loved it. He couldn't help the “Ah! Ah! Ah!” he kept letting out to the rhythm of his thrusts.

You were just so good, so made for him, so his.

With a sudden movement, Kuuya hooked his arms under your legs and pushed you. He always saw that position in those porn videos, and he always wanted to do it to you. The mating press. He wanted to push himself inside you as far as he could and then fill you up with his jizz. Ah, just thinking about it made his cock twitch inside of you.

He wondered if you could feel his fast and loud heartbeat in your pussy, since his cock was so damn hard. It would be almost painful if it wasn't for your glorious wetness sucking him in so good and taking care of him.

You grabbed one of Kuuya's hand and brought it to your clit, urging him to draw little circles on it to bring you over that edge. He rubbed it quick and merciless, looking down at how your pussy was swallowing his cock, so wet that a ring of white had formed around its base as he fucked you, and how your clit also twitched under his fingers.

Not long after, you felt your abdomen tighten and your walls clench around him as you reached your orgasm, arching your back while you desperately pushed his hand away from your clit to avoid overstimulation.

Watching you cum so hard because of his very own ministrations made Kuuya cross over that edge right away as well. With a high pitched moan, he spurted his load inside you – so much cum that it spilled down  to your bed and Kuuya mindlessly tried to push it back into you while he rode his high.

His chest was heaving and his eyes were glazed over, the look of pure adoration still visible in his pink orbs as he looked at you, sweaty and thoroughly fucked (by him! Not by a toy! Much less another man! Not ever again.)

He wanted more. He needed more. He felt like he could cum over and over again inside you and fuck you silly for hours on end.

But as he opened his dry mouth to say these words, a sudden tiredness took over his body and his eyelids got impossibly heavy.

Kuuya fell down into your arms, unconsciously snuggling your figure, his softening dick still inside you as he cuddled your body and placed kisses on your sticky skin. It wasn't long until his breathing became steady and sleep took over his body.

You decided you'd let 5 or 10 minutes pass before you'd wake him up in order to drink some water, eat some protein bars and join you in the shower so you two could clean up.

But damn it, was he adorable while sleeping. He had a little pout on his bottom lip, but besides that, his face finally looked relaxed. The first time you've seen him like that in all those months you two have been coworkers.

Pride swelled in your chest as you thought about how you're the first one to ever see him like that.

The scared wet cat finally in your arms, ready for you to coddle, kiss, fuck, take care of and protect from any harm.

You unconsciously tightened your hold on him, feeling a wave of possessiveness so vile that it made you dizzy for a second.

It was a bit too much, what you seemed to feel for him. But you weren't willing to analyze that at that moment. He was right there in your arms, clutching you like you were his lifeline – and that was more than enough for you.

At least your anxiety and paranoia had been completely quelled. If he was so desperate to fuck you after you confessed you were a bit creepy for him as well, then maybe it was okay for you to be more upfront with your desires, just like he was.

Even though he truly would never guess he was being so obvious.

It was so cute, how he thought you really didn't know about anything he ever did. Not the stalking, nor the stealing. And not even the little thoughtful things he could straight up tell you because you'd genuinely appreciate them. 

However, regardless of him telling you or not, you just knew everything. Your poor little baby wasn't very subtle, after all.

Therefore, you very much knew Kuuya had stayed behind with you at work just because he knew you'd be there. He thought he was elusive, but you could pick up his intentions from miles and miles away. As soon as you first saw him idling alone in that kitchen, it all clicked perfectly in your head.

Kuuya was so silly and so dumb, sometimes. But it was okay because that made him so, so cute that you could eat him up.

Over and over and over again.

[tteokdoroki]

˗ˏˋ 💎  JJK MEN AS OVERPROTECTIVE GIRL DADS gojo, sukuna & geto .ᐟ

⋆˙ ᯓ★  about ! “a little girl’s first love will always be her father." three scenarios in which the daughters of three jjk men introduce their boyfriends to their fathers. ( 5.7K )

warnings ! minors blank and ageless blogs do not interact. video banner. not beta read. sfw, fluff, angst if you squint, no-curses!au, mentions of pregnancy, children and babies, the children have no names, some family issues, married life, domestic bliss, husband + father!jjk men, mother + fem!reader.

sonic says ! hello everyone !! i wanted to try my hand at some head canons and scenarios, i couldn’t get this idea out of my head so put a pause on working on kinktober to write it lol!! hope you enjoy <3 - m.list ⋆ read on ao3 ! ִ ࣪𖤐₊ 

ᯓ★ SATORU GOJO:

before meeting you, satoru gojo had never been fond of a family dinner. 

in his childhood home — they were cold and quiet, pockets of clattering cutlery would cut through painstaking silence and distract from the loud emptiness of the seat at the head of the table where his own father was supposed to be. his mother, often solemn and sunken in the shoulders, never spoke. never cooked and slipped small bites to her son in between preparation or steps.

they had staff for that, they had staff for everything.

to keep the household clean and together. to keep him fed and breathing. to keep him alive. all requirements felt almost clinical, the environment in which he was raised almost like the white walls of a hospital — without a trace of love needed for a child like satoru gojo needed to thrive. 

even if he had all the money in the world, he hadn’t a drop of love. he wasn’t ever sure if he was capable of the warm and fuzzy emotion, didn’t know if it was something his heart could ever open up to — sealed in by layers of cool, cold concrete and cement. kept in a safe without a key. at least until you miraculously found it and melted the thick layers of ice blocking satoru’s veins. you brought back colour to his cheeks and light to his eyes, taking up the space in his heart where his family had left a swirling, black void. 

to satoru, you were a saving grace. his everything… and he swore he’d never be like his father; who left his wife unhappy and empty, like a abandoned shell. he promised; he’d do much better than his parents ever did. especially when you found out you were pregnant, even more so when your little girl came into the world with plentiful white curls and lashes, screaming at the top of her teeny tiny lungs. 

at the time, you were sure you’d never seen satoru gojo so in love ( and so teary eyed too ) — but you knew what becoming a parent meant to him. what it meant for the new life you now shared.

but now, having met you and married you and created life with you — satoru had found a new appreciation for family dinners. they were a sacred event, a special time for him to keep up with the lives of his children and let them know he was there. present. 

it wasn’t a time to be imposed on and certainly not by meddlesome boyfriends brought home by sixteen year old daughters.

“so kid, what’s your 401K look like?” 

satoru carries a look of disdain, his nostrils flared, blue eyes narrowed and perfect pink lips curled in an unhappy frown. 

the young boy opposite him, a little scrawny and awkward, shrinks underneath the white haired man’s intense gaze — if you squinted, you could probably see him shaking like a little leaf in the intense wind from across the table “um… i don’t know?”

“hear that little guy? no 401K… how’s he meant to take care of your sister. yeah, yeah.

you’re right, i’ll give him a chance,” he mutters to the baby boy snoozing happily in his arms under his breath, engaging in a one sided conversation before switching his focus back to his daughter’s…sorry excuse for a partner. “okay then… finances, clearly not. academics and common sense —“ pausing,  the white haired father of two clicks his tongue, pushing it into the soft flesh on the inside of his cheek as if to feel his next words out in his mouth. “do you even know what a bouquet of flowers is, kid? a corsage? gojo women don’t play about their flowers, yanno.” 

“sir—“

without giving the boy a chance to speak, gojo drops his intrusive gaze under the table and back up again — pointing an accusatory finger at his little girl’s partner. “your top button’s undone and your shoe laces are untied. you might wanna fix that! if you care about my daughter’s safety!” he turns his nose up all petulant like a picky toddler being forced to eat his veggies, he even sticks his tongue out for good measure. gojo’s eccentric movements nearly jostle his sleepy son in place. the baby whines and gurgles a little bit, only soothed by a pat to his back from dad — who repositions him to snooze over his shoulder.

in a silent, quieter gesture, satoru uses two fingers to point between his eyes and the boy’s. almost as if to say ‘i’m watching you.’

catching him in the act, the eldest gojo daughter bounces into the room carrying plates of steaming hot food, exhaling with worm down patience evident in her body language. “daddy please, you don’t act like this normally. stop messing around.” rolling her eyes, she sets the dishes down, freeing up her hand to smack the back of her dad’s clearly empty skull. just like her mother.

“well sooooorrry for being a good dad and caring about your wellbeing! who you’re dating! who you’re bringing into our bloodline!” gojo rebuttals with petish grunts, unable to cradle the back of his injured head like he does with his son.  

and as if by magic, you, his beautiful and loving and gorgeous wife appear with dinner plates in hand to double down on a scolding the white haired man. amused, you also swat at your husband’s head and tut down at him. “satoru? what are you doing?” there’s something about the way you tease and tell gojo off that always makes his heart race, even after all these years of marriage and raising his kids. he loves you, his family so much. he almost keens into your touch like a pathetic dog, until your daughter starts gagging at the sight — slipping into her set. you were supposed to be watching the baby. not interrogating the poor kid.” 

“we’re having a heart to heart, babe,” gojo swoons, clearing his throat as his head bobs in the direction of his daughter’s boyfriend. “jimbob here was just telling me about his 3.4% grade point average.”

“it’s hiro sir! and uh… 3.5% sir.” the boyfriend in question chirps shyly.

you know that your husband feels… almost threatened by another man entering your daughter’s life — they’ve been practically inseparable since the moment she first opened her eyes. to give up the duty of loving and protecting her and pass it onto someone else is probably what scares him the most. “that’s pretty good hun!” you comment absentmindedly, hoping to pull satoru away from the conversation.

“no it’s not! our daughter has a 4.0%.”

“s-she was failing in math, i was tutoring her.” the boyfriend hopefully interjects again, whispering next when the baby stirs at the dining table. “i hope that makes up for my 401K sir. i-i also work part time to save for college and—!” 

“haha — no i wasn’t!” the younger gojo girl tenses in place, elbowing her date in the ribs not so discretely from under the table. it’s this interaction that makes her father smile, only briefly, before you scowl his way.

“i thought you told them we met at a tutoring session.” 

“you were failing?” you raise a brow, taking your own seat beside her father. 

“see! this boy failure is a bad influence on our daughter!” a glare settles on the slopes of satoru’s angelic features, mirrored by your child’s unimpressed expression across the table. in his arms, your youngest fusses about as if he senses the mounting tension at the table — earning a bounce or two from daddy, who turns your way all matter-of-factly like. “see, this why he doesn’t have a 401K”

“why would a teenager have a 401k, satoru!” comes your exasperated sigh.

“i had one when i was his age.” satoru shoots back and the kid sinks nervously in his seat. the poor boy looks as though he wants to disappear, squirming in place like he’s no better than a worm on a bait hook — it’s torture being interrogated and inspected by someone so close to the person you love most, but even he knows how important satoru’s approval is to your daughter.

she wouldn’t say it now, not when she was all grown up and finding her way out in the world — but she idolised gojo, all of her fondest memories are painted in his colours. shades of sapphire and azure like his vivid eyes, snowy white from his hair that almost rivals the clouds in the sky — the backdrop to days spent riding her father’s shoulders through the big wide world, racing down grassy green hills and wasting the hours away. she wouldn’t admit it here, today, but she never wanted to leave those memories. leave her father behind in her youth — it was written on each dip and curve and highlight on her youthful face, she wanted her father to move into this next phase of life with her too.

“daddy, you were a trust fund baby with shit grades and no prospects until you met mum,” she huffs but her words hold no malice, even if the sass brims over the edge of her tone like an emotionally charged, overflowing glass of water. you’d chide her for cursing — but you know she means well, stubbornly expressing her desire for approval to her man child of a father. “a loser, if you will.” 

gojo slumps, the rosey petals of his plump lips pushing into an age old pout. “how could you say that about dear old dad?” he whines, as though he’s a wounded animal. 

“well she’s not wrong, baby. you were a loser satoru, you still are.” the words are fond and light hearted on your tongue, a similar state to the wisps of a smile that trace over your own lips. leaning in close, you tickle the nose of the gurgling baby boy in his arms, heart heavy with affection — grateful that the one interaction you had with your husband all those years ago ( when he was a scrapier and misunderstood ) led you both to the beautiful chaotic family you have together now. “a hot one at least.” 

“gross.” your daughter groans and buries her embarrassed gaze in the spread of food on the neatly laid table — grabbing a plate and piling it high to cope.

her boyfriend chuckles nervously, wanting nothing more but to eat and do the same. desperate to hide from gojo’s intimidating aura, but too afraid to cross another one of his ridiculous invisible lines. “i think that’s very sweet mrs gojo!”

the brief moment of peace in the war of dad v boyfriend is then interrupted by the white haired man’s temper tantrum, realising that his only daughter is still in the room. “don’t push it kid.” the father of your children all but wails and finds something else about the young couple to pick apart. “you’re sitting too close together! move apart!” 

“daddy—!”

“w-what?”

“i said move it or lose it kid, before i keel over and die of heartbreak.” “betrayal. my own daughter, leaving me for someone else.” 

the two separate, shifting their chairs away from one another despite never actually being too close. you share an empathetic look with your eldest, empathetic to your husband’s actions. you both knew he wouldn’t handle the meeting well, but this was beyond your whilst dreams. the young couple’s hands remain intertwined under the table cloth as the meal begins properly, and when satoru notices, he doesn’t comment — biting down hard on his unhappy tongue. he knows all too well what it’s like to love against the odds, his father in law hardly wanted him around you. it’s not like he wasn’t aware how bad he was for you, how your standards might have even dropped for the man to be with him. but you loved satoru with your entire being, wholly and against all of your own parent’s wishes. 

in a way, the dinner tonight reminds him of himself meeting your father for the first time — how he had to work for his approval too. prove that he was more than just a spoilt brat. too caught up in the memories, the odd sense of loss threaded between his every breath and the love he holds for his daughter settled in his lungs — gojo almost kissed the way you whisper to him adoringly, head drooping to rest on his shoulder mostly to look at your baby but partly to comfort him. “you’re being dramatic satoru. look at them, don’t you just love young love.” 

and he does, he looks, really looks — softly staring across the table and through the haze of his own judgement, noticing how happy his little girl looks all wrapped up with her boyfriend. all he’s ever wanted is to keep her smiling, give her a life that his parents couldn’t give him, he feels all of his resentment and fear or losing his daughter melt away like a plain sheet of paper dissolving in water. he loves her too much to not let her be happy, his baby. his little girl. 

“no, not at all,” satoru finally relents with a wobbling voice and silvery tears that dot his vision — shaking his head back and forth to stop them from dropping onto his sleeping son gathered in his arms. “w-why would you say that? god, is it allergy season? my eyes are killing me. they’re not cute at all, why would you say that i’m crying?” 

your teenage daughter glances over, relief evident in all of her identical gojo features. “no one mentioned you crying, daddy.” she coos softly in an attempt to console satoru.

it doesn’t work, he starts dry heaving and sobbing. which is new for her, he hasn’t cried this hard since her baby brother was born.

the kid scrambles into his pocket and damn near stumbles over the table in order to hand your white haired lover a tissue. “i don’t think you’re crying sir!” 

“shut up!” gojo sniffles dramatically, putting on his best theatre kid act and drapes himself ( and the baby ) all over you. “shit, is this cushioned tissue? three ply?” pale, deft fingers swipe at the blue pools of eyes which well with tears while the kid nods over enthusiastically — desperate to please his girlfriend’s guardian. “good stuff this is… but this doesn’t mean i approve of you for my daughter!”

“gojo!” 

“whaaaaat!? he doesn’t have a 401K!”

ᯓ★ RYOMEN SUKUNA:

if you’d told sukuna, almost a decade and a half ago, that he would end up with a life shrouded in domestic bliss — he would have laughed in your face. maybe even called you a cunt whilst telling you to fuck off. back then, when he was younger and the spirit of ambitious fire burned brightly in his veins as though he had petroleum for blood, the pink haired man never dreamed of settling down. buying a house. getting married. or having kids.

he was as untameable as a wild horse, with only one goal in mind. to open up his restaurant and get his family out of that shithole town by all and any means. he’d cross whatever rivers he had to, climb whatever mountains he needed to — push past societal hurdles that judged him for the pink in his hair and the thick ink on his body. ryomen sukuna did not care. not about anyone else, only about his goals.

at least, until he met you. 

in many ways, you were a blessing to the world where sukuna was a curse. his complete opposite, the day to his night. though the worlds and lives you came from were completely different — 

nowadays, the man is a little softer around the edges and weaker in the heart — they say that’s what true love does to you.

a set of keys jingle at the front door, followed by the dull thud of trainers on the shoe rack and footsteps on the mahogany wood floor. sukuna hardly looks up from the article he’s reading — something about the best recipes for autumnal vegetables. who would have thought, ryomen sukuna, reading up on gardening. he would tell anyone who asked it was for his restaurant, not because he actually enjoyed it. would make him look soft. 

“hey, i’m home!” the voice that calls to him is sweet and youthful, a dulcet symphony that tugs paternally at the pink haired man’s heart strings. “is ma here?” 

sukuna smiles to himself behind the newspaper, inhaling its fresh ink scent. “in the kitchen, workin’,” he replies absentmindedly, listening to his daughter skid down the hall after dropping her backpack. “oi squirt, you ain’t slick. you know what day it is, report card. now.” 

there’s a dramatic sigh that follows footsteps trailing back into the living room. sukuna’s daughter, his pride and joy clings onto the doorframe with a scowl that could very well rival his own, ruby red eyes twinkling with annoyance — she’s in a rush to chat with her mother after school, he knows, but he can’t help but to tease her just a bit. “s’in my bag, can i go now?” she whines impatiently but takes off at the first gentle nod from her father in reply. 

but the pink haired parent’s peaceful evening is quickly turned upside down at the discovery he makes in the bottom of his pride and joy’s bag. no matter how much time has passed, how many decades have gone by in which he’s been a father — nothing could prepare him for this new challenge, the new wave of emotions that come with having a tween daughter and swirl hotly in his chest.

“what the fuck is this?” he announces with a foul snarl, slipping into the kitchen where his girls chitchat idly over a test batch of cookies sukuna had made earlier in the day. for his restaurant of course. not because he’s a doting husband or loving father. he’s got an image to uphold and it’s not one of domestic bliss. 

his daughter chirps, not looking up from the sweet treat she picks apart and pops into her mouth — seated on the kitchen island while you work away on your laptop. “what’s what, daddy?” her innocent nonchalance about the older sukuna’s discovery almost makes him pop a vein. “also, ma told you to stop saying the f-word. so, swear jar.”

the hulking man with the contrastingly soft pink pokes his tongue into the soft epithelium of his cheek, his jaw ticks and a playful frustration tingles throughout all four of his limbs. the swear jar was something you’d brought into play as soon as [daughter name] had learned how to talk, afraid that your rough and rugged husband’s potty mouth would rub off on her young impressionable mind. every time a cursed word falls from between ryomen sukuna’s lips, a couple hundred yen is popped into the jar as punishment. the thing was practically full by your baby’s third birthday, so you’ve been putting it down as her college fund ever since.

paper rustles between deft and tattooed fingers as sukuna reveals not a report card, but a crinkled note like the kind passed back and forth between distracted kids in the middle of that one class before lunch. “don’t play dumb with me, squirt.” ryomen holds the note up to the light so that both of his girls can see, blood diamond eyes squinting so he can inspect it better. somebody get this guy his glasses. “‘do you want to go out with me? tick for yes, cross for no.’” he reads out loud, each word leaving a bitter taste on his tongue, his frown so deep that lines of disapproval form on his well-aged face.

thoughts of the once all-important report card vanish into thin air, the relaxed aura in the room replaced with a palatable tension that not even your husband’s finest knives could cut. your precious baby girl shoots up from the counter to scramble with her dad over the note in hand. he holds her back with a large palm to the forehead.

“oh my god! you weren’t supposed to see that! daddy, give it here. please!”

“fat chance, squirt,” the tattooed man retorts. “you passin’ notes in class? that why you’re hidin’ your report card?” 

“you can have my report card, when you give that back!”

with the two standing side by side, the resemblance strikes you as clear as day. they share the same hair, same scowl and same rugged intonation to their voices. they’re both yours, your entire world under one roof. before they can blow said root off, you stand between the elder and younger sukuna — turning to your husband with hooded eyes and a gentle hand on the centre of his broad chest. “oh ryo,” you coo in flirtation, slowing his train of thought as you sneakily swipe the crushed paper from his grip. “shut up ‘n let me see that.”

your daughter gags behind you at the display of affection, contrasting with the amused smirk you share with your long time lover. after all this time, marriage and the perfect kid, you’re still able to make a fool out of him — make sukuna’s heart skip a beat and a heat he refuses to acknowledge crawl up the back of his neck. he’s gone soft, for you and his family. for now, for you, he relents on taunting his precious little girl. 

casting your gaze over the note, you grin at the pink-ink chicken scratch scribbled across the page. it’s sweet and endearing, reminding you of young love. “did atsushi finally ask you out?” you ask tenderly, handing the paper back to your daughter who cuddles it to her chest like the  physical version of a precious memory. 

a bashful expression lines the contours of her face, seeping into features you’d recognise from your husband on her. sukuna would argue that she has the shape of your eyes and your beauty too — but all you see is a culmination of love. “ma you were so totally right, playing hard to get really works!” 

she gushes dreamily over her crush like it’s puppy love, biting her lip and bouncing on the spot. 

“like a charm, every time.” comes your entertained response, much to your husband’s dismay.

“you weren’t playin’ hard to get with me…” sukuna questions rather than states, trying to piece together parts of the gossip that he’s missed. an anxiety corners the beat of his heart at the thought of his daughter dating, something in which the burly man never thought he would be afraid of. the world had been hard on sukuna; he only worries that it’s not as safe for his pride and joy as it were for him.   “never mind that; the brat asked you out with a piece of paper?  y’better not have said yes. we have standards here.” 

his words make you roll your eyes with the hint of a smile. ryomen almost reminding you of your own father around the time you’d met him.

your daughter scrunches her nose petulantly, gearing herself up for a witty reply. “well ma married you, so her standards can’t be that high.” she snaps, earning a stifled laugh from you and an unimpressed grunt from her hardheaded dad. “and no, i didn’t. told him he needed to ask me out  properly. face to face. with words. he said to meet him on the running track tomorrow at lunch for a surprise!”

pulling her into a hug, you kiss her round youthful cheek. “oh baby, i'm so happy for you!”

“well i ain’t! show me the damn kid, need to see what kind of pitiful brat wants to ask out my little girl,”  sukuna crosses his arms and grumbles to himself, black ink tattoos flexing menacingly as he does so. almost as if he’s preparing to threaten the kid before even meeting him. “whatever happened to askin’ for permission to court or whatever. he should have been on my doorstep asking for your hand.” 

“firstly you would have said no, and secondly this isn’t the olden days, dad. nobody does that anymore.” your cheeky daughter chides him loudly, her words slipping over her snarky little tongue. like father like daughter, the way they snip and snap at one another has an uncanny resemblance.

tilting your head upwards towards your fuming husband, you laugh breathlessly in a way that washes away his anger.“she’s right ryo; though my dad hardly approved of you either.” you say softly. even now, you make him feel weak in the knees and dizzy in the mind, like he’s so anything for you. whoever dates his daughter should feel the same about her.

“i freakin’ earned it, didn’t i? 

“just barely.”

sukuna huffs but settles a hand on your waist from behind and his head atop yours. he needs to soothe himself somehow, his daughter is growing too fast. “stop ganging up on me and lemme see the damn kid.” 

“here, isn’t he cute.” 

lips downturned, sukuna craned his neck to look at your daughter’s phone from over your shoulder — scrutinising the instagram page that she’s opened now offering the kid his only child has taken an interest in like a lamb at the slaughterhouse. “brat looks like a noodle.” haughty laughter fills the kitchen, reverberating against the bones and organs in ryomen’s chest and buzzing right though your back. “you’re right i woulda said no as soon as he fuckin’ turned up!” 

two sets of scolding eyes similar in shape, belonging to the two girls he loves the most swivel around to face the pink haired man disapprovingly.

“ryomen sukuna!” 

“daddy!”

“yeah yeah, i know. swear jar.”

ᯓ★ SUGURU GETO:

“my love, were you aware that our little munchkin has a boyfriend?”

suguru looks up from the bubbling pot of child friendly pasta sauce on the stove. if it were just the two of you having dinner tonight, like it was merely three (nearly four) years ago — he would have planned for a more adventurous meal. perhaps sought out a bottle of fine aged wine for you both to enjoy on the balcony and even gotten a dessert to sweeten the date in. but now, you both had more than two hungry tummies to worry about, and bottles of wine could only be purchased when the little one was off with her uncle satoru.

“no, i wasnt. i don't believe that’s come up in discussion before,” your dark haired lover turns his narrow gaze to the giggly little girl swaddled in your arms — her chubby cheeks and dark, curious eyes just peeking out of the fluffy duck-themed towel you’ve wrapped her in. bath time is usually after bed, but someone got into the paint pots at nursery school and managed to get blotches of blue streaked through her hair and under her fingernails. “care to elaborate sweetheart?”

suguru taps the wooden sauce spoon against the side of the pot and swipes his hands on a nearby tea towel before allowing them to rest on his hips, look of faux irritation settling on the contours of his face and slopes of his features. thin brows draw together like closed gates in the middle of his forehead — the expression earning airy light and squealed laughter from your baby girl.

“nuh uhhh! not my boy-fend!” she babbles her way through the big girl word, missing a few syllables here and there, but geto still grins with pride — happily leaning forward to press enthusiastic kisses to his little angel’s damp forehead. “no boy-fend papa!

bouncing your daughter slightly, you cock your hip out to hold her weight and cheekily roll your eyes. “such a daddy’s girl, lying to him already? he’ll let you get away with anything if you keep that up,”  though you muster up a pout to rival the toddler’s, the uncanny resemblance warming the cockles or your husband’s heart, your tone is playful and adoring — it’s lilt full of love for the baby girl you made together. you pinch her chubby cheek, waggling it from side to side as more of her childlike laughter tangles with the scent of pasta in the air.  “we bumped into the fujioka boy and his mother at the gates this morning, he held her hand all the way up to the classroom. it was quite cute. you had to be there, love.” 

“i’m sure,” he responds, gentle mirth and protectiveness swirling in dark framed eyes.

you relay the information to your husband as though it’s hot gossip fresh from the press, whispering over your dark-haired daughter’s head not so secretly. even with the hair and eyes to match suguru’s, she’s still just as much your carbon copy as she is his — he tends to say all of her spirit comes from you, not to mention the way she laughs and smiles.

shaking her head between you, both — your baby chimes in brightly. “noooo mama!! boys are gross, i don’ hold hands with boys.”

this time suguru manoeuvres to pinch her other chubby cheek, clicking his tongue as he does so. “not even papa?” he pretends to pout, crouching down with his hands on his knees to coo into her sweet little face. 

“nuhhh, papa isn’t gross!! papa is my favourite boy!” she quickly tacks on with a dribbly smile.

“that’s right. i’ll be the only boy in your life always, just you and i princess,” your husband reaffirms with a firm shake of his head and presses a promise in the form of a kiss to your daughter’s nose. her chubby little hands, still wet from bath time, smack either side of suguru’s face and keep him close — close enough for her to plant a soggy smooch onto his forehead affectionately. a wet kiss only a father could love. “that settles it, i’m no longer sharing my kisses. papa says no boyfriends until you’re ninety.”

once your two loves are done sharing their candied affections, you seat your daughter on the edge of the kitchen table to allow geto the room to finish up with dinner. the comforting symphony of baby babbles and kitchen utensils clanking and food boiling fills the steamy air, it makes you smile. it feels like home. “oh come on suguru, they’re only three. don’t you think it’s the tiniest bit adorable?” you say with a sing-songy voice, entertaining both your little one and her father.“they even share their animal crackers during break time and crayons when it’s time to colour, one of the supervisors told me.”

with his back now to you as he stirs through the pasta sauce one final time, you hardly miss the way suguru’s shoulders tense at the mention of the little boy your girl has taken a liking to. he wouldn’t dare frown about it in front of her, what upsets daddy upsets baby too. that’s why he’s always smiling for her, and you find the man’s subtle jealousy endearing. it’s always supposed to be suguru and his princess, with no room for anyone else ( aside from you, of course ) 

“nope, no boyfriends. no amount of cuteness can convince me otherwise.” voice falling tight and flat, suguru reaches into the cupboards for plates and bowls to dish up his lovingly prepared home cooked meal, slamming them into place at the table with a little less patience than before. 

the idea of some… little boy chasing after his daughter’s heart? over his dead body.

“boy-fends are gross!” but your daughter is forever a daddy’s girl, furrowing her brow and crossing her tiny arms in an act of defiance — supporting her papa’s cause. boyfriends are bad! 

fuelling her excitement and even more support for papa — food is served shortly by your husband, who plates up as best as he can with toddler safe dinnerware. you adjust your little girl into her high chair at the table, giggling to yourself softly when she cranes her neck to keep an eye on suguru. “does that mean papa’s gross? he’s technically mama’s boyfriend.”

“husband, love, there’s a difference.” 

three plates of hot, aromatic spaghetti are organised in a table — each a domestic reminder of the family suguru geto has been blessed with. in that moment, he thinks he would be happy if he spent the rest of his life as just the three of you. briefly his mind wonders to setting a fourth place at the table in a decade or so’s time, once his daughter truly is old enough to date. the very thought makes him feel ill. 

round, doe eyes dart between you and suguru as you take your seats either side of your darling daughter at the table — she mimics you both with fumbling little fingers that reach for her baby fork and concentrates as she attempts to repeat your husband’s words. “can i have a husbsband-love?”

you laugh and kiss her cheek, helping her to gather a bite of pasta on the full end of her fork. “husband. just husband, my love. make sure you blow on your food please!” she follows your instructions with a comical air, cheeks puffing and breath huffing while you explain why her father is a second away from blowing his top. “good girl. husband’s aren’t for babies, baby. and i think papa might not like it if you got one now.”

“if you got one ever!” suguru interjects, eyes narrowing while he fights with his lips to avoid a scowl. “the answer is still no, princess. no husbands and no boyfriends until papa is old, cold and in the ground.” 

now that your hands are free, you grab the nearest tea towel and wind it up in your grip — launching its tail end at geto as though to swat at  him. he jumps in surprise and your daughter shrieks in amusement as she begins babbling again. “don worry, papa!. fujioka is  no my boy-fend!!” she says over food in her mouth and happy tummy. geto wipes over her face again. she’ll definitely need another bath later. “hasegawa is!!”

the pair of you share a look and this time, you really think suguru might just throw in the towel. 

how could he compete with pre-school love and paint pots shared over playtime gossip? 

“two boyfriends? oh god, love… i think need some air.”

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate, feed into ai & recommend elsewhere.

[mrsbarnesblog]

firewood

masterlist ko-fi ao3

Lumberjack! Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: When you decide to chop wood in your backyard, your hot neighbor, who happens to be a lumberjack, offers you some help.

Word count: 4.8K

Warnings: +18❗️smut, hot neighbor bucky is a fucking warning, kinda size kink, rough sex, protected sex, dirty talk, pet names

Author's note: this is one of my favorite works, so I hope everyone who hasn't read it before will like it too (it's hard to not fall for lumberjack Bucky, tbh🤷‍♀️)

“Hey, do you need help?” You stopped what you were doing. You breathed heavily, your arms ached, and you were already sweating. The man, your neighbor, whom you already saw a few times when you arrived home, was standing before you with his hands in his jeans pockets. 

He was attractive. Really handsome. Probably 6 feet tall, with broad shoulders and visibly a lot of muscles under the clothes. Yeah, that red henley left nothing for your imagination. His dark hair was put in a low bun, and he had a little stubble on his face. But you mostly noticed his bright blue eyes, which looked straight at you very attentively.

“Sorry, what?” You said as you wiped sweat from your forehead with the sleeve of your shirt. 

“I asked if you needed help. Sorry, but it seems like you have some troubles.” He smiled at you almost shyly, and you couldn’t even make yourself mad at his words. 

“Um, It’s my first time doing it.” You awkwardly smiled back, finally putting a big ax to the ground. “But I need wood for my fireplace, so I have to work with what I have.”

“I see… but don’t you have a boyfriend or a husband? I mean, it’s not really easy to do for a woman, and you seem pretty... petite for this?” It almost sounded like a question. “I wanted to say that I can help you if you allow me, because that thing might be really dangerous if you don’t know how to work with it, and I'm a lumberjack, so... it’s not a problem for me.” He awkwardly started to rub his neck. “I’m Bucky, by the way.”

“For a woman?” You playfully arched an eyebrow. “So you think that only men can do this?” You saw how his eyes widened, and you tried to hold your laughter.

“No, no! That’s not what I meant!” He lifted both hands in the air. “It’s just gonna take you forever to do, and as I said before, It’s not the safest work. And since this is my job, I could’ve helped you. As a neighbor, you know?” 

“Relax, I’m just joking.” You softly smiled at him. “Nice to finally meet you. I’m Y/N.” You reached out your hand. Bucky’s face relaxed, but then his lips curled into a mischievous smile.

“I like you.” He said, as he shook your hand. His grip was tight, and you felt that he really did a lot of physical work with his hands.

“Oh… thanks?” 

“Soo, do you need help?” He asked again.

“Um, honestly, I don’t know. I can’t just let you work for me for free. Can I pay you?”

“Doll, I have enough money, and I don’t need yours. I don’t think that you need tons of firewood, so it would be easy work for me.”

“Okay, but maybe I can give you food? Pastry? I really love to cook, and everyone said that I’m good at it.” You nervously played with your sleeve while Bucky was staring directly at you.

“Deal. I would honestly die for homemade food, ‘cause last time I ate it was at my ma’s and I really miss it. But you don’t have to do this, okay?”

“And you don’t have to help me.” You shot back.

Bucky’s smile grew wider, and he started shaking his head. “You have some temper, doll... Friday is okay?” 

“Yeah, totally, any time you’re free.” 

“Deal. I should probably go, and you better start training to cook food for me. I am really picky, and you insisted on paying me with it.” He said and started to walk back.

“Oh, shut up.” You laughed. “I know what I’m doing; don’t underestimate me!” 

“Fine. See ya, doll.” Bucky waved at you with the biggest smile on his face and finally walked away.

Well, it’s gonna be interesting. 

For the next almost two months, Bucky had been “working” for you, and you paid him with your food every single time because you couldn’t leave that man starving after he just got home from work and then willingly helped you. 

You two got closer. Bucky was a really good man; you found out it while you were sitting in your backyard looking at how his muscles were moving with every swing of the ax. He was right that it wasn't a big deal for him—the job that you would’ve been doing for several hours he did in twenty or thirty minutes. 

The conversation with Bucky was easy, he was a pretty reserved person, but he still told you everything about his job and his friends and asked you things about your life. It was hard not to fall for him. Especially when he gave you this boyish smile every time it was time to say goodbye or when you brought him your homemade food. 

Usually he comes to your house every Friday after work around 6 p.m., but today it was already 8 and he still didn’t show up. There was no light in his windows either, so you became really worried that something serious had happened. 

You were nervously sitting on the bar stool in your kitchen while your dinner was getting cold on the stove. You really had no appetite. What if he got injured from his dangerous work? Or maybe you were just overreacting and he went on a date with someone? You really had no reason to be worried that much because Bucky probably didn’t even think of you as a close friend, and you were just a too dramatic person with attachment issues. 

The light knock on the door scared you a little bit, but you still jumped out of your seat to open it. 

Bucky was standing there, visually perfectly fine and without any injuries, and you sighed with relief. 

“Bucky, oh my god, hi. Are you okay? I was really worried about you, and I don’t even have your phone number to text or call.” You mumbled as your eyes studied his face. 

“Hey, doll.” Bucky softly smiled at you, but it was obvious that he wasn’t really in the mood. “I’m fine. Just a shitty day at work. My boss went fucking crazy over nothing, and it was just a mess.” He ran a hand through his long hair. “But I have to do your firewood, so I'll go change and be back in a few minutes, ‘kay?”

He started to go back, but you caught him by his wrist. “No, Buck, wait. You don’t have to do it right now, really. I have enough wood, and you’re really exhausted. Come in; I have fresh lasagna and chocolate muffins.” 

“Um—are you sure? I mean, you don’t have to.” He mumbled. You noticed that you were still holding his wrist, but decided to leave it that way. 

“Don’t worry, I have enough food, and you look like you really need it. C’mon, don’t you want to eat something homemade and still hot after a bad day at work?” You gave him your best smile, and it was obvious in his eyes that he already agreed to your idea. 

“Okay, we can do that. Honestly, I feel like I’m able to eat a fucking elephant.” 

You both shared a laugh before you almost dragged him into your house and closed the door. Only at that moment did you realize that even though you gave Bucky a lot of food, he had never been at your place before. For some reason, you felt really excited to feed him and spend some time together. 

“Sit here while I’m heating the food.” Bucky obediently took a seat, looking with a soft smile at how you were moving around in your little kitchen.

You looked so domestic and soft in the warm yellow lights of the room in the cute pink cotton dress with little flowers all over it. The concentration was written all over your face as you tried to perfectly set plates and cutlery on the table and then put steaming lasagna on it.

“Fuck, it smells so good; you’re going to kill me, doll.” He wasn’t able to handle the amazing smell of food right in front of him. 

Your cheeks heated, and you waved your hand at him. “It’s just lasagna, Buck; don’t be dramatic.” You took a place near him, and you both started to eat your food. 

“I’m not being dramatic. I already told you that, besides my ma, you have the best food in the world. I could’ve eaten it three times a day for the rest of my life and not gotten tired of it.” He took another big bite, moaning as the taste filled his mouth. 

“You’re making me blush. No one ever told me this.”

“That’s my intention, doll. What, none of your boyfriends complemented your skills? Because I would’ve put the ring on that finger way too fast.” You looked at each other for a few seconds until you noticed that he had already finished his portion. 

“Do you want more?” Ignoring his previous words, you stood up and took his plate to give him some extra food. The dress gently flew around your thighs, drawing Bucky’s attention to your legs when you turned around. “Anyway, what happened at work? You mentioned your boss.”

“Ugh, Pierce is a fucking dipshit. Everyone there hates him, but he has too much money, so we can’t do anything. Me and Steve have really been on bad terms with him since the first day. He tries to tell us how to do our work, but his head is so far up in his ass that he can’t even listen to what we say.” You returned to your place and put a plate in front of Bucky again. The frown took place on his face while he was talking about Pierce, so you put a hand on top of his without even thinking. 

“He sounds like a total asshole. I’m sorry that you guys have to work for him.” Bucky’s face softened at your action. He flipped his hand so he could interlace your fingers, and you felt the warm feeling all over your body. 

You both definitely felt something, but you still stayed silent, enjoying the connection. It was obvious that you had feelings for each other. It was just hard to admit out loud, and, honestly, Bucky was so scared that you might think that he did all of this just to get into your pants. Which is not true. Well, he doesn’t mind, but it’s not his only intention. He wants to treat you right and ask you out on a date. 

Back then, he felt so bold and offered to help you with the firewood with the hope of getting to know you better. Steve and Sam obviously knew about his new “work” and teased him about it all day long. Unfortunately, he still didn’t find the right moment to ask you out. Those times when he came to you on Friday evenings and you were watching him work in your cute dresses or little pajamas were Bucky’s favorites. You looked so soft, cozy, and domestic that he wished to see you like this every day. 

After the last piece of a chocolate muffin disappeared in Bucky’s mouth and he let out a moan of satisfaction, he sat in your kitchen with closed eyes and a smile on his face. 

“If I had to have a shitty day just to get this type of meal at the end of the day, I’m ready for it.”

“Bucky!” You laughed at his dramatic words. “You don’t have to have a bad day. I can feed you just because.” 

“Well, you said it yourself. Now you won’t get rid of me.” You both laughed. Then he suddenly got up and started to put plates in the sink. “You sit, and I’ll wash the dishes.”

“No, Bucky, that’s not how it works!” You got up and caught him by his bicep. Really hard and big bicep. 

“Yes, it is. You’re cooking, then I’m cleaning.” He tried to get away from your grip to turn on the water, but you only held him stronger, now with both of your hands on his arms. 

“Bucky.” When he was standing so close to you, you realized your size and height difference, and it made you shiver. You turned your head up to look him in the eyes. “You are my guest; you shouldn’t do this.”

“My mother taught me to always help women because they are not our maids.” He stepped a little bit closer. “But if you’re saying this only because you want me to leave, I can do that.”

You were both looking at each other, and what you saw in his eyes made you weak in the knees. 

“No, no, I don’t want you to leave.” Your hands moved higher and fell on the sides of his neck. It was everything Bucky needed to finally kiss you.

Two large and rough hands took your face to bring your lips closer to Bucky’s height. He was gentle yet so passionate, and he slowly moved his lips against yours. It was mind-blowing how desperately you wanted him to devour you, to destroy you. While your hands were discovering his broad chest and shoulders, you felt that your body was suddenly lifted in the air and then placed on the kitchen counter.

Now that Bucky didn’t have to lean over to your height, it was easier to kiss you properly. His tongue brushed over your lips to ask for entrance, which you happily gave. Bucky felt too addicted to your taste, your smell, and the feeling of your smaller body against him. It drove him crazy.

“I've wanted to do that since the day I looked at you.” The hands on your hips tightened and moved you closer to his body. “You look so pretty, God.” Bucky’s eyes are running all over your face, trying to memorize every little thing.

“Bucky...” You dragged him closer again, desperate to connect your lips. His large hands wandered all over your body, slightly pulling up your dress and then moving higher and cupping your breasts in them. “I thought you were tired.” His large erection was obvious through his jeans, and you wanted to tease him. 

“I’m never tired for you, doll.” He mumbled against your lips. “I could’ve fucked you right on this table, but I’ll leave it for the next time. Where’s your bedroom?” You didn’t miss the promise to fuck you again, and your body felt ecstatic just because of this thought.

“Up the stairs, second door from the right.” 

Bucky didn’t say a word before your world suddenly moved, and you ended up hanging from his shoulder. Your bare ass was probably right near his face, and you couldn’t help but blush. 

He stormed up the stairs with one hand on your thigh, as if your weight on his shoulder was nothing, and then walked into your main bedroom. 

You were thrown onto your bed, and Bucky stayed in front of you for a few seconds to remember this picture. Swollen lips, eyes full of need, a short dress that pulled up and showed a glimpsing of your white underwear. Yes, you were perfect, and only for him. 

“Come here, Buck.” You raised your hands in his direction, and he obediently climbed on top of you with a smirk on his face.

He sat between your legs, moving his hands up and down the soft skin of your thighs.

“Such a pretty doll for me, in this cute lil’ dress, mm?” His body was hovering over you, and when he found a zipper on the back of your dress, you ended up lying under him only in your white lingerie set in less than a minute. 

The pair of the most beautiful blue eyes devoured your naked body as soon as the piece of clothing was removed, and you had never seen a man look at you this way. Like you were the most beautiful, delicious, and priceless thing in the world. Bucky’s hands gently touched your body from the shoulders to your legs, and you swear that you heard a moan while he was doing it.

“Sweetheart.” He mumbled and leaned to gently kiss the soft skin of your belly, moving with little kisses higher until he reached your lips. “You’re killing me, you know that?” 

“Shut up and kiss me, Barnes.” It was impossible to think straight when his pretty face was right in front of you and his muscular body pushed you deeper into the mattress of your bed. He kissed you as you asked, but it didn’t last long before he pulled away with a grin on his face. You gently brushed his brown locks out of his face and tucked them behind his ears.

“So bossy, dollface... Do I have to fuck this attitude out of you?”

“Mmm, undress, and we’ll see what you are capable of.” You shot back at him, and he just moved away with a smirk on his face. 

In a few seconds, a red henley was thrown somewhere on the floor, and you were face to face with a body that was probably made by the Greek gods. Muscles on muscles, with tanned skin and freckles from the work under the sun. Now you wanted to climb him like a fucking tree.

“Like what you see?” His smirk became wider as he saw the look on your face: slightly parted lips and darkened eyes that were looking at him up and down. Bucky's hands went straight to the belt of his pants, and with the last movement, he was standing in your almost dark bedroom completely naked. 

You almost choked on your saliva when he pulled down his pants and boxers at the same time. He was thick and long, with an angry red head. 

“No way this is gonna fit me…”

“It will, doll. I’ll take care of it. I bet this pretty little pussy will just suck me in.” 

It was over for you. You knew that. A handsome, respectful man with a perfect body and dirty mouth? Yes, he can do whatever he wants with you.

He returned to your bed, sitting in between your spread legs. He didn’t waste any more time when he reached behind your back and unbuttoned your bra. Bucky stood on his knees so perfectly that his dick landed on your covered pussy, and it made you both moan out loud. 

“Look at this, doll. ‘M gonna destroy her.” His hips slightly moved, and because your panties were soaking wet, it was so smooth and perfect. “Can you imagine that? I will stretch you out so well that I’ll ruin any other men for you. Make you–and her– mine.” He reached with one of his hands to your tits and squeezed your nipple between his fingers, while the other one was keeping your legs apart so he would be able to move his hips. 

You tried to close your legs by instinct. The tip of his cock again and again brushed right on your clit, and the slight pain from your nipple made you desperately moan and clench your bedsheets.

“Are you going to cum, pretty girl? Im not even inside of you, and you’re already a fucking mess.” Bucky’s rough voice was so sexy that it made you even wetter, if that was possible. He saw that you were close: by the way your breathing changed and how your eyes rolled back in your head. “C'mon, just let it go. Soak those panties even more.” His movements on your most sensitive parts of the body didn’t stop, and it threw you over the edge.

You were squeezing around nothing, and the most inappropriate and dirty moan escaped your mouth. It was something that you'd never experienced before, and it was so intense that you needed some time to get over it.

“Good girl.” Bucky grabbed your face and connected your lips, giving you another wet and sloppy kiss. 

Then, without hesitation, Bucky’s hands took off the last piece of your clothing, leaving you completely naked for his hungry eyes. He stared at your body up and down for a few seconds and then closed his eyes to take a deep breath and calm himself down. 

“Bucky, please, I need you so much.” You almost cried, trying to grab him and put his body on top of yours, but Bucky was much larger than you, so it was almost impossible.

Bucky finally calmed down a little bit, and he interlaced his right hand with your left, pinning it above your head. His body softly landed on you, and skin-to-skin contact sent shivers down your spine. He was now looking you right in the eyes, and judging by his facial expressions, he either wanted to fuck you lifeless or cuddle and hold you closely.

“Tell me if it’s too much, okay?” Bucky’s soft side came out again, and you slightly nodded, giving him permission to continue. The little silver square appeared in his hand out of nowhere before he ripped the package with his teeth and put a condom on. 

You honestly tried to hold back the little bit of disappointment you felt when he decided to use protection. It was smart. You weren’t longtime partners, it was a question of your safety. But the tiny voice in your head told you that you would’ve let him fuck you without it. To feel his perfect d–

Your thoughts were cut off with a deep chuckle. “You look like you’re sad that I put on a condom, doll.” You swear that his eyes darkened when you stayed silent. “If you want it later, I’ll fuck you raw, ‘kay? But now neither of us can think straight.” 

“Are you a perfect man?” You laughed.

“I don’t know, let’s find out.” Your smile faded as soon as you felt the head of his dick at your entrance.

You were still sensitive from your previous orgasm, so when Bucky started teasing you again, rubbing you up and down to cover himself in your slick, you nearly lost it. 

“Bucky, please.” You whine, grabbing the side of his torso with your free hand. “Don’t tease me, please, I can’t—” 

Your words died as Bucky finally pushed inside of you. Your head fell deeper into your soft bed, and Bucky’s body tensed on top of you, trying to hold back a deep moan. 

It was overwhelming. He stretched you out so deliciously that you felt pain and inexplicable pleasure. No one ever made you feel this way—like you were on cloud nine and the man on top of you didn’t even actually fuck you yet. 

“You’re squeezing me so hard that I might cum like a teenager—fuck!” He groaned, squeezing your hand harder. “Relax, baby, I’ll take care of you.”

You tried to relax as much as you could with a dick buried deep inside of you, and Bucky was finally able to move.

Well, if it felt good earlier, then the first movement of his hips probably sent you right to heaven. Bucky cupped your face with his left hand, locking your eyes together, when he started thrusting at a slow pace. 

“So pretty for me, doll. You feel my cock in your stomach, huh?” Bucky’s lips almost touched yours when he talked, but it felt like he was too far away from you. “Good girl, take me so well. Knew that this pussy would be my death.” 

“More... harder, please, fuck me harder.” You spoke in between moans, gazing intently at Bucky's pretty face.

He started fucking you harder. Your bed was slamming your wall, but it didn’t bother you as much as the fact that he was hitting your G-spot with every thrust. You were a fucking whining mess under him, with a slightly open mouth and a drunk-looking face.

“Suck it like a good girl you are.” His thumb slipped into your mouth, and you moaned, doing as he said. “Your pussy is already sucking the shit out of me. Are you going to cum, baby? Going to make a mess on my cock while I fuck you? Imagine if I fucked you raw and filled you up with my load. I bet you’d like that.” The finger went deeper into your mouth, making you gag. You nodded your head as much as you could at Bucky’s words because you were already ready to cum.

“Give it to me, baby.” Bucky growled, sucking on your neck. His hips slammed into yours, making the nastiest noise, but it turned you on even more. A finger slipped out of your mouth, and Bucky’s face was in front of you again. “Fuuuck, I’m gonna cum.”

“M-m, B-bucky! Don't stop, pl– ahhh!” The wave of the best orgasm of your fucking life washed over you. You swear the stars started dancing behind your closed eyes as you endlessly squeezed Bucky’s cock and his body.

The way you were moaning, how your eyes rolled back, and how your whole body trembled pushed Bucky over the edge. A few last movements in your soaking wet pussy and he came, feeling almost lifeless, as if you had sucked the whole energy out of him.

He let go of your hand, which this whole time he held above your head, and cupped your face with both of his hands, kissing away the tears you didn’t even notice.

“Y/N? Baby? Are you okay?” He whispered and moved your head a little bit so your eyes were directed at him. You looked like you were high or really drunk, but he couldn’t argue with the fact that you were the prettiest woman on earth.

“I– it’s like I don't feel my body anymore.” You lazily mumbled and closed your eyes. “No one ever fucked me like this.” 

“Glad to hear that, doll.” Bucky leaned closer and kissed your soft lips with more delicacy and tenderness. “Do you need anything? Food, water, bath?”

“No… Can you just hug me and stay here for the night?” You asked, now afraid that he would leave since he got what he wanted.

“Sure, just let me get rid of this thing, and I’ll still get you some water.” He kissed you on the forehead before carefully untangling his body from yours. You hissed at the new empty and a little bit aching feeling inside of you. “I’m sorry, baby.” 

Bucky threw a condom in the basket under your table and, putting on only his boxers, came down to the kitchen to get you a bottle of water. But when he came back, he saw that you had already fallen asleep.

You looked so cute—still naked, with a peaceful expression on your face, laying in the middle of your messy bed. He thought about whether he should disturb your sleep or not, but you asked him to stay, right? Bucky hesitated for a few seconds, but then came closer to you, placed the bottle on the nightstand, and carefully scooped you into his hands, pushing away the covers. He put you back down, and then you opened your eyes. 

“C’mere…” You mumbled, still sleepy, and grabbed his hand.

Bucky quietly chuckled and got under the cover, hugging you from the back. You happily sighed before drifting back to sleep. Bucky kissed you in the hair, hugged you harder, and fell to sleep with you in his arms.

You woke up a little bit disoriented, trying to figure out what happened last night. 

The bed beside you was empty, but the aching feeling between your legs proved that it wasn’t a dream. You, in fact, fucked your hot lumberjack neighbor. But where did he go?

You found some random oversized t-shirt and walked down the stairs. Everything was silent; your kitchen was empty but crystal clean. Did Bucky just leave? 

Wait a minute. 

Yesterday there was a mess from your cooking and dinner with Bucky.

Now the room was almost shining. 

You looked around in confusion until you noticed a piece of paper on the table. 

All of your bad thoughts disappeared as soon as you read it, and you felt butterflies go crazy in your stomach.