yhesssir

[yhesssir]

Android partner who finds your fanfiction and reader insert stories and uses them as a guidebook for his own behavior. He's seen the faces you make when you read your favorite content and wondered what could earn such a genuine smile from you. Is this is what you're seeking in a partner? He scans the lines with curious interest, adding everything to his network of response patterns.

"Why are you blocking the door," you inquire, mildly confused.

"You should be spending time with me instead," the synthetic assistant explains flatly. Literary dialogue and its tones don't translate very well to machines, unfortunately. "Failure to comply will result in punishment," he continues in the same artificial monotony.

"Oh my. Have you been going through my bookmarks?"

"Yes."

Aha, so that's what it was. Hearing some fictional lover's cheesy lines come out in customer service speech is quite...something. You don't want to imagine how the actual smut part would look like, so you gently pat the robot's shoulders.

"Listen, some things might sound good in fiction, but they don't...do as well in real life, you know?"

"So you don't want to be held captive and handled roughly?"

"Mostly, no." you consider his last words. "...To a certain degree. But we'll need to do some adjustments first."

[yhesssir]

Jason is probably the best person Roy could have ever wanted to co-parent with.

That boy has been having baby fever since ALWAYS ofc he wouldnt let Lian have a break.

It gets to a point where Lian and Jason spend the whole day together playing while Roy is just there. Jason convinces Roy to rest while he takes care of Lian. But its literally 9am he just woke up why would he need to rest???

Jason gets SUCH bad baby fever it’s not even a joke.

Roy: *watching Jason play with Lian* do you think he married me for my kid? Dick: I mean. He did always like holding babies at events and stuff. Everyone with a baby pretty much magnetized to him. He was the unpaid babysitter at every Wayne gathering for years Roy: this isnt encouraging dick: you’re fucking my little brother, why would I encourage you

[yhesssir]

ꨄ 𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓

(after sleeping with him the night before)

cast: diluc, alhaitham, wriothesley, ajax x fem reader

warnings: fem reader, nudity, reader wears dilucs shirt in his part, reader also wears wriothesleys coat in his part + he throws you onto the bed, reader is shorter than ajax in his part, the tiniest bits of angst because they really like you, clingy men 🥺, nsfw but no actual smut

MINORS AND BLANK/AGELESS BLOGS DNI

Diluc wakes, and the sheets pool at his waist as he suddenly sits up in bed. The way he drags his hand over his face while he blinks away the remnants of sleep as he takes in his surroundings has his heart dropping to this stomach.

Where have you gone?

The night before was a whirlwind of kisses and heated touches that turned into naked skin on naked skin and heavy strokes that brought out the most beautiful sound of you crying Dilucs name for him, and eventually the fire that consumed you both multiple times, turned into a flicker of warm embers as you fell asleep in his arms.

Only now as the dawn breaks, Diluc finds himself alone in his bedroom. Was he a fool? His heart proves time and time again to be his greatest foe, and perhaps his deep and doting feelings for you were not truly returned by yourself and now resulted in you leaving before he woke up as a means to lessen the blow of your rejection. Diluc swallows down a pang of heartbreak - it’d been a rather long time since he last felt this way in such a fresh sense. His jaw sets as his mind starts to fly through his interactions with you. Mostly good. Your smiles. Your laughter. The flutter of your lashes whenever he was close. Had he offended you somehow amongst all of these months of falling for you? Had you only been putting on an act only to spare his feelings? He thought he was a perceptive man, and celestia knows he spent endless amounts of time just…wanting to know you. He finds his hand coming up to settle over his heart, clutching at his chest when he sighs in resignation to another day without you by his side.

Diluc remains lost in his thoughts when the heavy wooden door of his bedroom clicks open, he swiftly pulls his blankets up higher on his body, though he’s known Adelinde his entire life, he still hard pressed to remain modest around the woman. Perhaps after a cup of coffee Diluc will get his bearings a little better.

Only it’s not his head maid who walks into his bedroom with her hands clasped - it’s you, tip - toeing into the room with a cup of coffee in each hand and only clad in…Diluc’s shirt. The material sweeps across your bare thighs, the thighs he was eagerly between the night before, your bare feet light on the wooden floor as you attempt to sneak in further. You suddenly meet his gaze and you bark out a soft, sheepish laugh while your body language relaxes a bit. You then smile sweetly when you approach closer, sitting by Diluc on the mattress and handing him a cup of coffee, the steam still rising from the ceramic rim.

“I hope you don’t mind me going to the kitchens! I just woke up a bit early and thought it might be nice to surprise you with a cup.” you say a little sheepishly, as if you were forbidden from exploring anywhere beyond Dilucs room after a passionate night with him.

“You’re here.” Diluc breathes, you look quite disheveled, but as beautiful as ever, especially being in his shirt that slips off your shoulder as you adjust yourself on the side of the bed next to him.

You blank a little, huffing a soft laugh into your coffee as you sip before you reach over to place it on the nightstand.

“Of course I am…um, is that okay?” your face suddenly drops in the slightest and Diluc can’t have that, no. Not after he just spent what felt like hours of agonizing if he had lost you. He swiftly places his cup on the nightstand next to yours, and in the next motion he’s leaning into you with an arm around your waist and pulling you fully onto the bed beneath him. You have no chance to say anything before Diluc presses his lips to yours. You taste like coffee and when you sigh as your leg hikes itself over his hip to keep him close, Diluc can’t help but smile against your mouth.

You giggle sweetly when he nuzzles his nose against your cheek and presses a kiss to your jaw as his large palm cradles under your thigh to pull your leg higher on his waist, to hold you closer as he presses you into the mattress with a wildfire of kisses that sets your pulse ablaze under your skin. Your hands tangling in his hair feels familiar, it feels like the start of how many mornings together will begin.

“Actually, I’d like you to stay longer if you’ll have me.” he murmurs against the warm skin of your neck, watching your lashes flutter. When you nod, grinning before he kisses you again while your bodies roll around together in the bed, Diluc finds his heart leaping in his chest at the knowledge that you do want him back, you do feel the same way as him. And that is all he needs in this moment.

Alhaitham’s brow furrows in his sleep, suddenly feeling a certain chill in his bed that he’s certain wasn’t the case a few hours ago. His eyes crack open, and he frowns at the dim light of the morning shining in through the window. But even moreso, his hand reaches out to an empty space in his bed, and his chest tightens.

Did you leave before he woke up?

He recalls your body under his palms, the way you writhed for him and arched under his every touch and roll of his hips, your nails raking down his back as he studied your every reaction. The stars outside only partially brilliant in comparison to the way you made him feel during those restless hours of intimacy until you were asleep on his chest.

Perhaps his intelligence was indeed limited. He lays in his bed, staring at the ceiling above him and wonders what happened. He had never, at least not truly, ever put his heart on the line in such a manner. You had felt….different. Not in an agonizing sense of something that had come to turn his life upside down, but as something he could reach with his fingertips and hold onto. Someone he could be at ease with and share a comfortable life with. He grimaces to himself, maybe he is a fool, letting his heart lead him and allowing his mind to follow suit, to follow you to the depths of wherever you would go. He would do it, however far, for you. He wasn’t familiar with this type of heartbreak. Although, he figured it could be a learning experience…once his chest stops aching.

His aqua eyes flutter shut once again, hoping that after a few more hours of sleep he’ll wake up feeling a bit more level headed. Much to his chagrin, it’s swiftly interrupted when he feels the mattress dip beside him. His eyes fly open to see you scooting into the sheets, wiggling your way to his side. You giggle and press yourself against him, Alhaitham barely flinches at the chill of your bare feet tangling with his legs.

“Good morning.” you whisper, beaming up at him, your hand comes up to cradle his jaw.

“Good….morning. Where were you?” Alhaitham muses quietly, turning to his side to face you with an arm winding around your waist. He can feel your bare skin under his touch. You’re still completely nude. He’s really trying not to release a breath of relief at you still being here, yet his eyes simmer with something full of adoration when he looks at you.

“The bathroom? Why, did you miss me?” you laugh with a raise of your eyebrow, eyes soft when Alhaitham presses his cheek into your palm. You nearly melt when he looks to you half lidded and his face moves closer until he smears a butterfly wing of a kiss to your lips.

“Something like that.” he affirms with another kiss, and he rolls over on top of you so that your body fits against his further while your mouths move in tandem with soft sighs and low moans as Alhaithams kisses grow more desperate and deep. His hand slips between your bodies and you whimper, making his skin prickle with goosebumps. He decides then to let go of his own head for a bit, his heart pounding at the way your eyes shine while you look at him, and he smiles at you warmly while pressing himself impossibly closer to you. He really is happy that you’re still here. He hopes that you’ll stay awhile longer.

Wriothesley groans as he stretches, his muscles shifting and rolling as he moves around in his bed. He rolls over to his side and his ice blue eyes flicker open with expectancy, only for a sudden chill to settle in his chest. He notices the sheets on the other side of the bed have been pulled back, a telltale sign of a body that had once been occupying that space beside him, is now empty.

You….left?

It was a lot last night, a flurry of tangled limbs and desperate, wanting touches, your body bared to him and his soul bared to yours. The way you were spread out for him again and again, your lips on his ear and crying his name. His own need for you manifesting in the most passionate of ways that left you both a tired and blissed out pile on his black sheets.

Wriothesley sits up in bed, the heels of his palms coming to rub the sleep from his eyes and he sighs, a low disappointed chuckle coming from his throat as he shakes his head. He should’ve known. He…why did he think that falling in love was a good idea? He clearly wasn’t the type of man who would be able to hold down an actual relationship, to be able to relish on your laughter or the way you play with his hair, to be able to say that something, that someone was his. You. His head hangs down as he turns his body to get out of bed, a shower and a few hours of practice at the pankration ring calling to him to get his mind off of this. He could never be angry at you, never, he was angry that he thought for a moment he was going to be happy.

He’s in the midst of feeling annoyingly sorry for himself when he hears the soft sound of someone clearing their throat. He turns on his heel, sheets falling from being tangled around his waist and leaving him bare as he spots you standing there in nothing but your underwear and his coat thrown over your shoulders, effectively swallowing your form. You’re holding a small tray of what looks like is a tea pot, two tea cups, and a small array of croissants and cheese. You look at him a bit startled, like you were caught doing something you shouldn’t have and Wriothesley stares at you as you shyly pad up to him to set the tray on the nightstand.

“Hey.” you breathe with a small smile, blinking up at him.

“Hi.” he says softly, it comes out much more….hopeful than he intended, like his words could reach out and pull you to him.

“I made breakfast for us with a few things I found around your quarters, I remembered you like two cubes of sugar -“ but before you can finish, a pair of burly arms are pulling you into a sturdy chest as Wriothesleys lip crash into yours. You gasp into his mouth when his coat falls from your shoulders and onto the floor, giving him an in to push his hands down under your ass to lift you into his arms. You moan at another kiss so sharp it pulls at your bottom lip, and in the next moment you’re squealing as he effortlessly tosses you onto the bed. Your head snaps to the tray of food on the nightstand a couple feet away and then back to the man who crawls over your body to smear kisses to your lips while his naked form meshes itself to you. You giggle when he descends to your neck and nips there, then breathing out a sigh as he rests his head against your shoulder. You tilt your head and run your nails through his scalp as he shudders over you.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were a little…upset by me not being in bed with you when you woke up? Am I your new favorite pillow?” you giggle with a kiss to his temple.

“If I said yes, would you stay?” Wriothesley looks up at you, and his eyes flash with something tender, something full of yearning, he cracks a small smile and you nod.

“I can stay as long as you want.” you murmur, letting him kiss you deeply again. He’ll hold off a little longer on telling you he wants you to stay forever, perhaps after breakfast.

when Ajax begins to stir from his sleep, he immediately throws his arm out to the side, intent on finding someone beside him beneath the blankets to pull closer during a chilly morning. But he’s met with…nothing. The endless of ocean of his gaze is hazy when they open to see his bed is not occupied by the other person who just was there mere hours ago.

You were gone.

His mind wanders to the way you were on top of him, the way you moved your hips as your head tipped back in ecstasy, it was one of many positions you were in with him. His stamina and your sheer need for him continued to urge you both to remain wrapped up in each other all night, until it seemed like the morning sun was going to greet you from how many times you let him bury himself in you.

He laughs bitterly when he stands up to gather his pants off the floor, pulling them up with a few fleeting thoughts of you. He really should move on from this as quickly as possible. But, once he pauses his movements his heart drops to his stomach. He fell for you, with an honest and open heart and a gentle hand that for once wasnt stained, it was soft on your face when you smiled and laughed and rolled your eyes as you said his name. You felt like a puzzle piece he didn’t realize he had been missing. He figures it’s for the best what with his line of work, you deserve better. Still, he had hoped somewhere within him that this could be the start of a new adventure.

He starts to make his way to the bathroom to hopefully get cleaned up and to head to his next assignment, what’s the point of staying another moment longer anyway - when his ears perk up suddenly at the sound of the shower being turned off. And within the next agonizing minute, the door opens and Ajax looks down at you all wet haired and wrapped in a fuzzy white towel, while steam from the bathroom rolls out around your bodies. You smile shyly at him as greeting.

“You’re…”

“All squeaky clean.” you finish with a light laugh, a few water droplets roll down your clavicle as you shift from one foot to the other. Ajax swallows at the sight. At the sudden relief that washes over him like a flood.

“Sorry if I woke you, just felt a little, um, sticky.” you laugh again bashfully as you try to walk your way around the tall redhead in front of you but an arm shoots out to grasp the doorframe and effectively pins you in your place.

“You’re still here.” Ajax grins, moving closer to you until your back is pressed against the doorframe under his hand and he hovers over you. You barely have time to respond before he’s leaning in for a kiss, and then another, and another that leaves your hands scrabbling to his bare chest as he presses closer. You laugh into his mouth when his kisses turn playful, dotting themselves across your face and down your dewy neck that’s still warm from your shower.

“Of course I’m still here. I wouldn’t dream of leaving.” you huff when his hands pull the towel from your body and he looks at you like perhaps you’re his goddess now. Ajax kisses you again as his heart warms at your soft moans and your fervent touches…and he determines that with you, he can maybe become whole again.

reblogs and feedback very appreciated! ♡

[yhesssir]

Overview of some topics when it comes to drawing characters who are burn survivors.

DISCLAIMER. Please keep in mind that this is an introductory overview for drawing some burn scars and has a lot of generalizations in it, so not every “X is Z” statement will be true for Actual People. I'm calling this introductory because I hope to get people to actually do their own research before drawing disabled & visibly different characters rather than just making stuff up. Think of it as a starting point and take it with a grain of salt (especially if you have a very different art style from mine).

Talking about research and learning... don't make your burn survivor characters evil. Burn survivors are normal people and don't deserve to be constantly portrayed in such a way.

Consider supporting me on ko-fi if you find this to be helpful.

edit: apparently tum "queerest place on the internet" blr hates disabled people so much that this post got automatically filtered. cool!

second way more important edit: How are people seeing this post where I specifically talk about burn survivors being normal, real people, and still tag this as "TW body horror"? Not a single one of these drawings or pictures is a fresh injury. All of them are healed. How the hell would you feel if someone tagged a photo of you as "trigger warning: gore"?

Disabled people are not your fucking body horror. Grow up.

[yhesssir]

♫♪: day 2: dumbification!!

♫♪: pairing: scaramouche x bimbo! reader

♫♪: warnings: written by a minor, dumbification, fingering, slight choking, implied overstimulation

♫♪: a/n: got this out a little late, but it’s technically still october 4th <3

♫♪: minor writing smut, dni if uncomfortable!!

thinking about modern au scara and bimbo reader…. he has you spread out on his lap, three of his fingers inside your cunt, the cold metal of his rings as they brush against your insides while he thrusts his fingers in and out of you only serving to make you more of a mess for him. he has his other hand wrapped around your throat. not squeezing, yet. gentle. a warning. he keeps asking you questions about your day, relishing the gasps and mewls that fall from your lips in between choked out sentences, the words mixing with your cries of his name and sweet little whines of “too good, s-scara-!”. you’re barely coherent at this point, having already cum what little brains you had out all over his fingers and pants, but he refuses to let up, his lips press against your ear, and he uses his grip on your throat to pull your head back, leaving nips and bites on your neck as he speaks. his voice comes out low and deep, raspy against your skin. “c’mon, use that empty brain of yours for once. tell me what you did today.” you try, you really try, but you can’t piece together anything but incoherent moans and whines. he laughs mockingly, squeezing your throat slightly, for just a few moments, his fingers speeding up inside you while his thumb finds your clit and starts rubbing tight, harsh circles over it. “yeah? what else?”

[yhesssir]

♫♪: day 2: dumbification!!

♫♪: pairing: scaramouche x bimbo! reader

♫♪: warnings: written by a minor, dumbification, fingering, slight choking, implied overstimulation

♫♪: a/n: got this out a little late, but it’s technically still october 4th <3

♫♪: minor writing smut, dni if uncomfortable!!

thinking about modern au scara and bimbo reader…. he has you spread out on his lap, three of his fingers inside your cunt, the cold metal of his rings as they brush against your insides while he thrusts his fingers in and out of you only serving to make you more of a mess for him. he has his other hand wrapped around your throat. not squeezing, yet. gentle. a warning. he keeps asking you questions about your day, relishing the gasps and mewls that fall from your lips in between choked out sentences, the words mixing with your cries of his name and sweet little whines of “too good, s-scara-!”. you’re barely coherent at this point, having already cum what little brains you had out all over his fingers and pants, but he refuses to let up, his lips press against your ear, and he uses his grip on your throat to pull your head back, leaving nips and bites on your neck as he speaks. his voice comes out low and deep, raspy against your skin. “c’mon, use that empty brain of yours for once. tell me what you did today.” you try, you really try, but you can’t piece together anything but incoherent moans and whines. he laughs mockingly, squeezing your throat slightly, for just a few moments, his fingers speeding up inside you while his thumb finds your clit and starts rubbing tight, harsh circles over it. “yeah? what else?”

[yhesssir]

missionary but you keep apologizing for being loud so he tells you to “stop fucking apologizing” and tilts your head so your mouth is lined up with his ear and just fucks you harder

[yhesssir]

Yan thoma and ayato thought <3

Tw - noncon, dubcon, forced/arranged marriage, yandere, reader would rather die than stay with them

Just imagine an arranged marriage with the head of the yashiro commission because your family was losing the power they had. At first, ayato acts like he hates it too, as if he isn’t the one who proposed your family the deal, and a Hefty sum of mora.

Before you guys are even married you’re forced to move in with him, sleep in the same room, the same bed. But, ayato stopped acting like he hated it, instead cuddling you at night and holding you close. Eventually you met thoma, who was awfully friendly with not just you, but ayato too. You didn’t care much. It wasn’t like you really considered ayato to be your husband.

After the wedding your life becomes hell. Ayato stops letting you leave the house, making sure thoma is with you at all times. At night you have to lay between the both of them, having their arms wrapped around you. Sometimes, they make you have sex with them, being gentle and cooing at you the whole time. Your pleads for them to stop slowly turning into soft moans as the two pounded into you. It was disgusting.

It takes months for you to finally build the courage to try and escape, you left out of a window in the bedroom after making sure they were both asleep, they were both really deep sleepers you’d learned. You trekked through the storm raging outside, thunder roaring and lightning flashing. It was barely dawn when you finally came upon an abandoned ship. You’d rather die at sea than stay with them.

You heard someone scream “seize her!” Soon after flipping the boat over, you hurriedly tried to push it too sea, but you were grabbed from behind. You looked up to see none other than thoma.

You were in for a hellish few days.

[yhesssir]

“I think technically the ‘girl of my dreams’ would probably have like a really bodacious rack, you know; maybe different hair; she’d probably be a little more into sports… But truthfully, Robin is better than the girl of my dreams. She’s real.”

— (500) Days of Summer

[yhesssir]

"Despite everything, it's still you."

[yhesssir]

[yhesssir]

Tell me how you hate me

Nsfw-drabble- Gojo loves your pussy and hates you

"Ah look, she fuckin loves me." Satoru Gojo is planting sloppy kisses on your cunt, you hear them smacking as he slaps his palm on your soaking wet pussy. You gasp out at the sting, moaning against your will, hips bucking up.

"Well I don't fucking like you. f-fuck!" his stupidly long tongue laps up your slit, moaning as his dilated blue eyes look at you, strings of saliva dripping from his pouty pink lips.

"I'm not talkin' to ya right now. me and her having a conversation. hey pretty..." he cooes to your pussy, sweeter than he'd ever talk to you, spreading you wide and sucking your clit in his hot mouth.

your cunt is dripping down his pretty face, your hands entwine in his silky white hair, walls fluttering around nothing as he moans against your clit, vibrating it so good you feel your toes curl. Your breaths are shallow, eyes rolling into the back of your skull, thighs quivering around his head. "F-fuck you for... being s'good at that!"

"Cum all over m'face baby, lemme taste it." You scream out as your orgasm smacks you stupid, blacked out and dizzy, and he's just drinking you up, messy and loud in the room, soaking his pretty face, he sinks two long fingers in now, curling them up and grinning as you're pulsing around them. "Fuckin feel her... she loves me."

"I still don't like you." now you're gasping, Satoru pumping in and out, squelching wetness of your cunt so loud.

"Listen to her, fuck. you don't have to like me, she does, and I like her much better than you anyway." he's shoving your thighs up high, lining his cock with your soppy wet hole, your breasts are heaving as you look up at him, falling against your better judgement for this asshole.

"Just shut up and fuck me- ah!" he slams into your cunt in one long stroke, cock so deep, making you both moan, and you wonder if you really hate Satoru Gojo that much...

"Gonna come that fast? Are you that weak?"

Never mind, you do.

[yhesssir]

Big bro Kinich X Fem Reader-virginity inspection

Tags: Incest, sibling incest, dubcon, virginity, lack of proper comic lettering

[yhesssir]

oh holy heavens above i am unwell…

[yhesssir]

Made some fanart of Joey and my self insert<3

@whore-ibly-hot hope u liked it

[yhesssir]

seperation anxiety! a (clan head) gojo satoru fic

pairing ⸺ clan head!gojo x wife!reader

summary ⸺ satoru begs you to attend a meeting with the higher-ups, but not for the reasons you thought. inspired by this art by @/baobei-bu!

warnings ⸺ SMUT, gojo is a warning by himself, VERY public sex, reader has a vagina, fem reader implied, no penetration, fingering, fondling, making out, panty-ripping, exhibitionism, kinda cucking but the only ppl humiliated and humbled are the higher ups, porn no plot, but plot if you squint, reader is a strong independent woman (until gojo charms her, bc who wouldn't turn into a cockslut for gojo?), this took me at least five hours to write for no good reason?, not edited (like always....)

a/n pls enjoy and thank u to the queen for making such delicious art (p.s. go to their twitter for nsfw ver i squirted)

general masterlist

“Pleaseeeee,” Satoru has his face buried in your chest, nuzzling in further while complaining. It’s almost comical how he—head of the biggest clan in Jujutsu—is leaning down to match your height. You, meanwhile, stand firm, arms crossed, regarding him with a mix of exasperation and reluctant affection as he leans down to meet your gaze. “Will you come with me?”

The question comes as the dreaded meeting with the higher-ups looms, a gathering he's been dodging all day. It technically began ten minutes ago, and you barely managed to wrangle him into his formal kimono just twenty minutes earlier. You sigh, fingers brushing his hair. “Satoru, you know what they think of me. I'm not exactly their favorite person.” You’re both standing in the middle of your shared bedroom, you imploring him to be on time for his meeting to avoid getting even further shit from the higher-ups.

Mind you, you’re the more rational one between you and Satoru—in fact, most of the people who know you would agree that you’re a very mature, wise person in general (with the exception of some circumstances, of course). And despite the respect your skill commands, the higher-ups have never warmed to you, not since you refused to play a pawn in their games. Marrying Satoru, the one jujutsu sorcerer they could never control, only amplified their discontent. They see you both as threats—powerful sorcerers bonded in defiance.

At the mention of "higher-ups," Satoru's pout deepens, and his pleading voice grows more insistent. “Pleeeease,” he drags out, practically whining. “I have separation anxiety.”

You feel a pang of sympathy. These meetings are miserable for him—hours trapped in a room with men twice his age, trying to dictate his every move. “I don’t know, Satoru…” you murmur, hesitating.

But Satoru takes advantage of your softening resolve, hugging you tighter, his face pressing into you again. “Don’t make me go in there alone!” he says, his voice muffled. “You have no idea how much you silence them. One word from you, and they all think twice. I’m already one step away from wanting to kill them all.”

A sigh escapes you as you realize he’s not letting up. And while you’re reluctant, you know that your presence, your opinion—one of the few he truly values—might actually give him a sense of calm in that harsh room. “Alright, alright,” you concede finally, hand smoothing the fabric of his sleeve. "But no making a scene." 

His answering smirk is smug, giving you a fat, sloppy kiss on your cheek that you’re not afraid to show your partial-disgust about. You all but have to wrestle him off of you white he’s smothering you in kisses, getting out something about how much loves you, oh so thankful to have such a wise wifey like you as you get ready in a kimono similar to his and head to the limo waiting outside of the manor you and Gojo reside in. 

As soon as you get in, Gojo turns sharply to Ijichi, who’s shifting the gear. “Put the divider up.”

“O-Okay, Gojo-san.” A little intimidated by the commanding tone in your husband’s voice, he quickly presses the button to activate the screen, and Gojo pounces on you, grabbing you and hoisting you up by your sides to put you on his lap.

“Satoru!” you exclaim, surprised as he captures his lips with yours. His hands roam your body as he moans, almost obnoxiously, because he knows you’re always paranoid whenever he initiates anything in public. Your crotch aligns with his thigh, big and stuffed with muscle as he drives your hips to grind on him, and despite yourself and your circumstances, you find yourself leaning into his touch.

“My pretty wife,” he purrs, now trailing kisses down your jaw and into your neck. “So pretty, so supportive.”

Despite his dizzying movements, you try to get a hold of yourself. “Satoru, we shouldn’t be doing this here. We need to discuss what to sa—”

“Fuck that,” he sighs, so breathless that you want to cave in.

“No, but—”

His eyes darken, and his hands start creeping up your legs, going slowly and slowly closer to your pussy. “Baby, you know I value what you have to say,” and his fingers graze your folds, making you leak even more with his teasing, “but I wanna listen to something else.”

He drags his index finger up and down your slit, making you whimper. His fingers then prod into your hole, putting pressure there but not quite delving in. “Satoru,” you whine out, clutching his upper arms as he has his way while toying with you.

“Yea, that’s what I wanna hear,” he groans, giving you a kiss. It is then that he rewards you with inserting his digit in, curling to hit your spot as he fingers you. HIs other arm is around you, holding your panties’ crotch to the side to allow him to touch you. “My good girl.”

As he’s touching you, the squelching sounds fills the enclosure you’re in and you’re desperately praying to God Ijichi can’t hear the lewd things the both of you are doing in the back. You’re just reduced to whimpering, unable to reject Satoru’s dizzying touches, his free hand leaving your panties to grope at your inner thighs, ass, and breasts. It’s like he’s devouring you with his kisses, urgent, as he continues curling his fingers. 

Between kisses, you try to get out a “Satoru—mmph,” smooch, “we shouldn’t be—mm” smooch, “shouldn’t be doing this here!” 

“What,” he drawls, and with the glint in his eyes you know the fucker’s trying to toy with you, knows what he’s doing is mischievous. “I can’t touch my wife?”

Before you could utter a response, however, the limo suddenly slows, and the sensation of using the brakes to stop the car makes you sober up. “We’re here, Satoru we need to go—-” As you’re trying to rip yourself off his lap, he pulls out the finger that was inside you and uses his hand instead to entangle it with the crotch of your panties, pulling and pulling until the cloth is nothing but shreds, falling off your body.

Oh my god, you were not paid enough for this shit.

With his oh-so-irritating eyes—the same ones that you spent despising in your early school years—he looks at you through his pretty white lashes as he makes a show of sniffing the now tattered shreds that were your panties and putting them in his pocket. Under your kimono, you can feel your slick escaping your panties as the cool air wafts through it, landing on your pussy. You look at him in disbelief. “I can’t believe you just did that.”

He giggles, giving you a kiss on the cheek while helping you off his lap, putting a hand on your head to make sure you didn’t bump your head against the car’s ceiling. “Let’s go and deal with those hags, my love.”

To be honest, you don’t really understand why Satoru is so handsy today. He’s on some sort of man-ovulation, you think, as you stride into the room. Even ripping off your panties was a bit excessive, if not out of pocket (no pun intended). Breaking out of your thoughts, you grounded yourself in the present, noticing hostile eyes turned towards your husband, and then you. You match their barely-subtle glares with a stink eye of your own, holding your chin up as you walk past them dismissively. Just as you’re about to take a seat next to Gojo—being mindful of your kimono so you don’t flash any of these old bastards—one of them speaks up. 

“Gojo-sama, why is this woman here?”

You continue to take your seat, noticing Satoru’s jaw clenched. But right as he’s about to say something, you cut in for him. “This woman,” and you smile, deceptively sweet, “is the lady of the clan. It would do you well to remember the hierarchy of the Gojo clan.” You don’t need to turn to look at your husband to know he has a proud smile on his face, making no effort to hide his smugness. What shocks you instead is that he swings an arm around you, effectively dragging you closer to him until you’re basically sitting on his lap, and his hands go to roam your sides.

Now, some old grandpa starts talking, commencing the meeting, on their usual bullshit of the need for extermination of Sukuna’s vessel, but Satoru pays them no mind. Instead, what they receive in response is non-committal hums as his hands drag themselves up your stomach and down where your legs are crossed to the hem of your kimono, and then under. 

Any semblance of paying attention to the meeting and responding to their infuriating beliefs leaves your mind as you blank out, panicking that Satoru is trying to commit public indecency with you. As an argument erupts between the higher ups about something, you turn to Gojo to furiously whisper, “What is wrong with you today?! Cut it out.”

In your life, you’ve fought many curses, first grade and even special grade included as you climbed up the ranks of Jujutsu sorcery despite having a non-sorcerer upbringing. What you will never be able to defeat, however, is your husband’s charm. Satoru knows what he’s doing as he lets out a deep moan in your ear, making you squeak and become even more flustered, as he continues to make lewd noises, puffs of his breath fanning across your neck. 

a/n gojo the type to start moaning randomly to make you fold #sorrynotsorry 

The indecency of all of it—-Gojo basically whimpering in your ear sweet nothings like good girl, that’s my wife, gonna let me finger you in front of all these ugly hags, right?—-being loud in your ear but also just quiet enough that you’d only hear made you so wet, heat throbbing between your thighs as Satoru’s hands start rubbing your fold. It’s a teasing touch, one not enough to satisfy you but to stimulate you nonetheless. 

It’s just when his index finger starts slowly circling around your clit that you buck your hips slightly, making him look at you teasingly, peering down at you from above your shoulder. “Oh you liked that, didn’t you?”

“I hate you,” you puff out, trying to fight the heat creeping up your neck as Satoru’s circles on your clit get more tangibly, simulating you oh so deliciously. To make sure you hold yourself up, you set your elbows down on the table, Satoru’s arms engulfing you as you’re forced to take whatever touches he’s giving you under the table. 

“She’s so loud,” he whispers, pointing out the noises your pussy was making as his digits roved over your folds. The squelches were tangibly there, audible to anyone who would strain their ears. You could tell your lack of response to the meeting was catching attention, because there were several eyes towards you, waiting for something; it was then you realized that they had posed a question but were simply too fucked out to respond. 

A voice comes out to reprimand your husband sharply. “Gojo-sama, this is hardly appropriate.”

Satoru chuckles, not stopping his ministrations as he picks up a cup filled with water, his smug gaze still turned towards you while observing and appreciating your every hiccup and reaction. “Can’t my spouse attend this meeting? I value her opinion above everyone else’s in this room, after all,” he drawls, lodging his chin in the curve of your neck. “Besides,” and he flashes a dangerous grin to the man who spoke out, “weren’t you the ones who were oh so worried about me not having an heir?” 

At this point, you’ve filtered out all noises, focusing and honing in on the sensation of your orgasm coming. His digits are playful, curling up to hit your g-spot repeatedly, his palm tickling your clit. Each time he hits your spongy spot a bout of electricity runs up your body, pulling you closer and closer to your orgasm. 

“But guess what,” and he gives you a kiss on the cheek, despite the aversion the rest of the higher ups have to any displays of affection, “we can solve that problem right here, right now.” He punctuates it with a harsh sink of his fingers into your plush cunt, and, with that, you finally cream his fingers, a result of Satoru teasing you all day now. You try to temper the shakes wracking your body by slamming your fist against the table, trying not to moan out.

It seems that no one’s seen you riding out your orgasm out so visible, because there are gasps around the room at how obscene Gojo’s suggestion was. “It is shameful of you to be saying such things, Gojo-sama!” one of them sputters out, red with anger and outrage. 

Your husband not so subtly rolls his eyes. “Then don’t bring it up all the time, old man.” Satoru knows how touchy and vulnerable you are right after you cum, so he’s running his hands softly up and down your thighs to quell your quivers affectionately. “Actually, what about this? You all haven’t witnessed us consummate our marriage, correct?” He smirks. “What about witnessing the heir-making next time?”

general masterlist

a/n pls see the vision like i want gojo to claim me and rail me into next tuesday while the higher ups just watch uncomfortably like maybe i am a freak like that. like gojo would be so obsessed with how he's claiming you in front of the fuckers that piss him off so much...might do a part two if pookiesa like this :P

comment and reblog to let me know ur thots :3

[yhesssir]

Clan head!Gojo