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#Being stuffed up has only one up
cantdanceflynn · 2 months
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IK I HAVENT DRAWN IN FOREVER BTW IM WORKING ON CATCHING UP
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zoekrystall · 3 months
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Did that fav pkmn thing on a whim and I'm sorry for all my babies I didn't choose bc I really like too many by some.
Love how it's mostly pretty ones and then there's clodsire. Even tho I got it in my team since the beginning of violet do I continuously forget its name bc I just call it by the nickname blobby (one of the rare times I didn't spend hours googling the perfect nickname but it nonetheless is a perfect one)
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And for fun without any legendaries as fav
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Reg nicknames I even write all down so I only spend decades once for each pkmn (unless I don't like the prev one anymore). Need to update that someday since it's mostly old revolution ones but hey. Blaze do I use for arcanine nowadays more and ninetails got others. Gardevoir got soteria nowadays which I prefer more. Etc.
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#a wild lux appears#(made this in december but for whatev reason left it in drafts until now. prob bc I wanted to limit non important posting idk)#Maybe you think garchomp is there bc of other reasons but I use it since dpp bc cynthia made kid me go 'woah!'#I remember having looked up as a kid to cynthia and juniper a lot and that fact n reason behind it makes me also go yeah no I was a girl wh#one day decided to be happier otherwise. Bc the reason was 'oh wow female and cool so I can indeed be that :0' most importantly with junipe#bc I never cared for battles. ye ye ignore fictional professions I was like 8. reason I loath alola tbh I missed doing non battle side stuf#I vividly remember picking my first pkmn game up (hg) and just immediately going fuck being a trainer let me be a prof and it's so funny ho#my horrendous sieve brain has that laser ingrained. Sometimes still brainstorm and I would prob study ghost pkmn tbh who by sheer luck isn'#dead yet. That and maybe being v charismatic to that type idk. Why bc I like those lil fellas.#What I also find extremely funny is having went by sonia prior to swordshield and there being a prof sonia. Wish I still went by it when it#dropped. Imagine. Kid sonia wanting to be a prof and meeting swsh sonia being on her way to be one. I either would've made her my#personality (which I think I nonetheless did I think I changed my icons to her) or would've wildly shaking her going 'it should have been#meeee'. which ig I mentally do by every rival or friend group person that takes that route like take me w you I hate battles please. Insane#that only blueberry academy me start to hate em slightly less. After over a decade of battles. Ig alpharad's n others streams w nuzlockes n#all started to also show me the appeal of actually strategizing instead of brute forcing which I did.#*that only blueberry academy MADE me#Whatev. Also no I don't got anything else that another pkmn would kickstart talking abt. Just know I drag my 2013 xerneas everywhere w me#and it is a fucking crime that I can't throw it into violet. What is this. You clearly don't mind throwing others into regions they don't#belong to at all (which I personally really dislike hc lore wise but gameplay wise whatever let new trainers catch old legendaries)#To come back to fav pkmn yes I'm in the dragonair boat. I hate evolving mine. Dragonite is fine I like it standalone but I like the#aesthetic of dragonair more. Idfc abt logic or whatever this is aesthetic talk. Yes I prefer some fan evos more.#I keep wanting to play that fusion fangame and if you want to know what pkmn I like I found out I have a huge overlap w alpharad there#Which sucks for us both! We adore pkmn that get lewded the most and I hate my life. You do you idc some are humanoid I have to admit that#but I personally would prefer to not see any art or even just jokes abt ANY of that. Humanoid or not I Do Not See.#I don't block let alone report over that just. tag and don't bring that to my doorstep thx.#What I will at most block n judge is if you touch any of the kids idc in this franchise if they're just pixels.#Can you tell I am writing this close to midnight anyways this is all. This became like a completely dif post in the tags welp
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thatwitchrevan · 11 months
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The thing about armchair diagnosing cis people as trans is that if you accept that everyone's understanding of gender is deeply personal and that you shouldn't tell someone they're not trans or not trans in the right way, you should also accept that you can't tell someone they are trans or that they're not cis in the right way. Or that they have to either identify as trans or cis.
These are all just words and there's never any excuse to argue with someone over who they are.
I don't think most people are genuinely trying to overrule the 'cis in a gnc way' perspective but even being flippant about it is not helpful. Also I think cis people talking about gender in complex and fun ways is very cool.
#everyone is allowed to have their own gender#it's not like 'trans people get to do whatever they want and cis are boring and default'#cis just means you generally identify with the gender you were assigned or don't strongly identify with something else#not that you never think about what gender means to you or that you think you're a woman BECAUSE you have a certain body#everyone is capable of understanding the difference between sex and societal gender roles and gender identity#if we try to say that only trans people have this forbidden knowledge that's just another way of alienating ourselves#and suppressing discussion of gender#gender things#anyway i said this bc i was watching a video essay about transness in horror#and she talked about a mangaka who writes trans narratives and has this really complex relationship with his own gender#but doesn't openly identify as trans#and i think we will lose a lot of interesting stories and people if we tell cis people to either be quiet about gender identity or be trans#and i know it's like. 'no one's telling them to shut up they're the majority'#yeah yeah but like. being cis is such an ephemeral state of being#you could just as easily not be cis within a moment#so it makes no sense to me to act like every cos person individually is An Oppressor#they're literally not they're just other people under the same stupid capitalist imperialist society as us#that wants them to be stuffed into tiny marketable boxes just as much as it wants us to be#so not they're not an elevated class and they're not barred from the table#the reason we have community is for support and understanding but some cis people support and understand us and some trans people don't#everything has nuance#anyway i want to engage less with labels and more with people and let them tell me who they are
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the-trans-dragon · 1 year
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Me using humor to disguise the fact that I am telling them how to do it correctly because customers can get so defensive if I point out they don’t know how to use their card’s new tap feature, and I kinda have to say something because they will get frustrated and start jousting at the reader with their card, and we just got new card-readers that actually work and I am not about to let someone break my brand-new easy-to-use card-reader just because they don’t want to admit that they have no idea how it works and need to be helped at least once to figure it out: “It’s more of a sit that a tap, haha.”
#my autism gets overly attached to tools. especially ones that are overlooked or damaged or need maitenece.#I maybe accidentally named one of our broken shopping carts Hamburger (cos hes smashed but he’s still okay-ish) and it’s#still referred to as Hamburger and when it goes missing people say ‘who fucking took hamburger again.’#one time I found hamburger way in the very back of the warehouse (not with the Too Broken To Use carts; it was just left in the back with#some stuff in it someone forgot to put up) so on my lunch break I went and put up the stuff and then wheeled ol Hamburger all the#way to the back room where I kept it. I did use it! there’s always one or two shopping carts back there for moving product around. I just#had a peculiar one that I befriended and perhaps there was a time when my mental capacity to not quit was indeed held together only by Hamb#Hamburger’s rusty and squashed frame.#ANYWAYS. I love my card readers 🥺 I love the broken ones and the new ones.#the new ones have a very fatal flaw: older cards are a little thicker so they need a tiiiiny extra nudge to fully insert. and oh my god.#I have to walk on eggshells to explain that. because if i don’t explain they will decide to shove the card like they think it’s a carnival#game of ‘how hard can you push this? are you strong enough to win the stuffed cat for your girlfriend?’#so far it works if I just…very…slowly…hover my hand over to their card…and very lightly nudge it. and then I make SURE to say.#‘I appreciate you being gentle with it#it’s new and actually works really well compared to our old ones and I don’t want someone to break it pushing too hard; so thank you.’#and I’m so sympathetic to the card reader 😭 like DAMN. I couldn’t read your card either if you slapped it against my eyeball for half a sec#like it needs a moment to scan. like an eyeball. just set it in range and it will beep when it’s finished. it’ll take a full second or maybe#even two or three. but it’s going to take even longer if you start whacking your card on it and then give up and put the chip in and then it#has to show the errror message and then reset and then try to scan the chip and hopefully you found some patience for that otherwise you#took your card out already and are now staring at me like I’m an irresponsible Card Reader Handlef#for not properly training my equipment to work.#sorrrrrry for rambling!!!#sorenhoots#wait this is my post. not sorries.
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gensymscribes · 1 year
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grumbling and kicking rocks down the road as i continue sulking about rasputin
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keeps-ache · 2 years
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hats are pretty neat things. how many kinds of hats are there? some are Plops, some are Brimmed, some do not serve any Practical Function, some are not even Fashionable but they're Funny To Look At, some are Very Big! and some are So Small you have to pin them to your head! hats are neat :)
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poptartmochi · 2 years
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oh we are having a mental health Night girlies
#bugs cw#take me back to 1am when i was taking notes... the literal moment i finished that i learned about the supreme court's latest ruling#concerning states being able to take non-native people on native lands to trial which. 😔 it gets worse it truly gets worse every day#so that is the big serious issue of tonight. the smaller things are that after a few minutes of reading abt that‚ a mosquito attacked me😢#Mosquitos and I have a toxic relationship. the second i see one in my vicinity my paranoia goes craazy#but it was already past 1am 😢 i have work tomorrow 😢 thankfully I remembered we have mosquito spray so i put that on!#following this i went to brush my teeth and discovered these like ?? tiny ants?? are crawling through the cracked caulking in the shower 😀#so this was fun. more bugs! but I evaded a big 😀🌋 about that‚ and so i went to my room to go to bed. plain n shrimple :]#BUT THEN A BIG GNAT WAS IN MY ROOM 😭 and bc my phone was the only source of light it kept coming into my space. so! i became evil and#killed it. this is where the real clown shit begins. 😀🥴 the vengeance of god#so. the dead gnat is on my hand. i go into the bathroom to wash it off‚ and I notice my sister's door is open (we have a jack n jill#bathroom). I don't want the sound of the sink to wake her up so I go to close her door‚ and when I turn back around to Finally Wash the#Dead Bug on My Hand I Notice. THERE'S A GIANT COCKROACH ON THE COUNTER LIKE LITERALLY JUST SITTING THERE.😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭#it was truly maybe the biggest one i have ever seen. so i do a little scream and jig away back into my room and the motherfucker goes!!#into the fucking cabinet beneath the counter! (where are all my sensitive skin medication is 😭😭). this is like too much for me at this#point so i become More Evil and call my mom over. but by the time she gets there the fucker has found some hole in the wall or something#because she can't find him!!! my despair is endless. SO. I stuffed a towel beneath my door but I don't think that'll stop it if it wants#to come into my room 🥲🥲 so. on top of the soul crushing fear about where my country is going rn‚ i also have mosquito cockroach paranoia#that said.. I don't think i will be sleeping tonight :]#sriracha.txt
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paragonrobits · 4 months
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some important calvin and hobbes facts in case you haven't read the original comic strip in a long time or only absorbed stuff on it from memes and out of context bits on here:
Calvin's last name has never been given, and neither has any of his parent's names. This was actually why his uncle Max only showed up for a brief storyline; the creator of the comic, Bill Watterson, ultimately felt that while it was fine to have him as someone for his parents to talk to, it felt far too awkward to never have Max refer to them by name and he never made a return appearance.
The general tone of the comic is fairly light-hearted, with a big emphasis on goofy slapstick comedy contrasted by clever wordplay and often surprising adult-centered jokes that'll hit you like a slap. A big part of the comedy is, as Watterson put it (paraphrased) "It's really funny to me when people express deeply stupid ideas with really fancy terminology." One notable example you might have seen is that one bit where Calvin asks his mom for money to buy a Satan-worshiping rock album and his mom replies that there's nothing genuine about them and they're just putting on the attitude for shock value, and comisserates with Calvin as he deplores that mainstream nihilism can't be trusted. He concludes that childhood is disillusioning.
There is a LOT of criticism of the extreme materialism and selfish mentality of the late 80s, when the comic was initially written. This may go a long way to explain how its aged so well; much of what it criticizes resonates well with people today.
Bill Watterson views comic strips a legitimate form of artwork, and repeatedly fought to have more space to draw more beautiful and artistic backgrounds, which was a very hard fight and unpopular even with other comic strip artists. He eventually did win some compromises and a lot of Calvin And Hobbes' artwork shows it, with the use of space to indicate time as well as a sharp contrast between the often plain environments of mundane life contrasted by the wildly beautiful imagery of Calvin's imagination (which often sports realistic depictions in an art shift of sorts).
Hobbes is explicitly not an imaginary friend, by word of Watterson himself. We don't know WHAT he is exactly, and Hobbes is apparently unaware of the strange nature of his reality; people look at him and only see an ordinary stuffed tiger plushie, but he has a tangible effect on the world that would be physically impossible for Calvin to do on his own. He's apparently been around for a while, and was apparently around when Calvin was a young baby.
On that note; Hobbes has implicitly killed (notably treated as both a gag and also with the vibe of 'he's a tiger, duh') and while he doesn't do it again on-screen, he doesn't have any moral issues about it. Calvin claims that he's never had trouble bringing Hobbes to school because the last time he did, Hobbes killed and ate a bully named Tommy Chestnut and simply comments that it was gross and he needed a bath. Calvin's tried to repeat this again, but Hobbes was grossed out at the thought having to eat a kid raw and not being allowed to use an oven first, or complaining that children are too fattening.
Hobbes became gradually less human-like in body language and more like an actual cat in both body language and behavior; this was due to Watterson drawing more inspiration from his cat, who also inspired a lot of Hobbes' running gags, such as pouncing on Calvin when he got home. Several years into the syndication of the strip, Watterson's cat passed away, and he did a tribute to her with a comic strip of the two of them agreeing to try to dream together so they can keep playing when they have to sleep; Watterson's commentary (if I recall right), remarks on his cat: "We can see each other again in dreams."
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kamitv · 19 days
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▷ Someone Else?
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Sypnosis . What happens when they find out you have a friend that’s a little too comfortable with you. / Pairings . (Separate) Nanami Kento x f!reader, Gojo Satoru x f!reader, Toji Fushiguro x f!reader, Choso Kamo x f!reader. / Content . afab!reader, possessiveness, toxic men, rough sex, reader is oblivious to someone flirting with her, praise, overstim, degrading, non-curse au, dirty talk, filth, mention of squirting, spitting, etc. / wc . 7.8k
A/N: Nanami lovers are about to eat GOOD with this one & writing this cured my depression abt Choso. This is based on this anon req btw; JJK men finding out about a close male friend— not proofread, there may be a lot of errors… [MDNI]
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★ Choso Kamo
“Mine, mine, mine, mine,” Is just about all Choso could grunt against your lips as he fucked you down into the mattress. “You understand that, no? You’re all mine, princess.”
Panting heavily, nails scraping at his back, pussy stuffed full of cum that was dripping out and down onto the bed so messily— Choso had you ruined all because he found out you had some guy friend who may have flirted with you today.
“Fuckin’ answer me,” Choso groans. His lips are right against yours, cock buried inches deep into your cunt as your legs remained sprawled out for him.
“Y-Yes, C-Choso-, fuck!” You moan into the air, eyes watering at how rough your husband was being with you.
His head tipped to the side, “Who the fuck did that guy think he was, huh? Flirting with you like you’re not my goddamn wife.”
“C-Choso, p-please-,”
“Please what?” He growls, voice just as rough as his thrusts were with you, “Told’ you I didn’t like that guy months ago.”
Your jaw simply hands open, eyes hardly on your lover above you, “M’sorry.”
Choso scoffs, “I know you are. You should be.” He huffs as his balls slap against your skin with each thrust.
Panting, you gasp out his name, “Choso…” You utter just as a big pout pulls at your lower lip, eyes doe-like as you gaze up at the man.
He cocks his head to the side and his eyes narrow at him, his dick twitching wildly inside you, “Don’t fuckin’ pouttt,” He coos, “Y’let that guy hug you like that today ‘nd you thought I was gonna be okay with that?”
You shake your head and a whine slips out, “N-No, but-“
“Shut up. I wasn’t done talkin’.” Choso cuts off meanly, rolling his eyes afterward, “Months I’ve been tellin’ you to distance yourself from him and yet here we are...” His body presses into yours and you whimper, feeling his hands grip your thighs tight enough to leave marks.
“Choso.” You call out, as if that’ll give you a second to escape him.
He holds back a whine that nearly escapes his throat due to how pretty you looked beneath him. Even upset with you, his cock pulsed and throbbed inside you by the mere sight of you whimpering below him.
“Fuck, I love you baby but damn,” He almost smiles at you, “I thought we talked about this?”
You take a deep breath, “W-We did, I just-“
Choso’s cock hits in deep, pelvis smacking against you constantly, “If you make another excuse for him m’gonna stop,” He tells you, hips slowing for only a second.
“N-No. Don’t stop, please.” You beg before moving your arms to wrap tighter around his neck and tug him closer.
“Mmmh,” He pouts to mock you but can’t deny the fact that the way you tugged him closer to you has his mind growing hazy for a second, “Don’t stop?” Choso asks.
He continues to slow down anyway, not yet coming to a halt but thrusts turning languid and listening to how your pussy messily slicks up his skin.
“Please, Cho, m-m’close.” You whisper, eyes silently begging him.
“Are you?” Choso questions, voice deeper than ever as he smirks, “Y’gonna cum f’me again? Wet up my cock so I can send that asshole a picture ‘nd show him whose dick you’re beggin’ for every night? Huh?”
Your back arches up off the bed a bit and your legs begin to cage around Choso’s waist, “Hahh, mmgh, t-that’s so… mean, Cho,” You whine in response, pouting again as your eyes water.
His pace had picked back up and you were being fucked into the mattress, a filthy mess of cum dripping down onto the bed below where the two of you were connected.
“Mean?” Choso echoes, the coldness of the wedding ring he’s got on his finger pressing further into your legs and making you shudder, “Baby… I can show you mean.”
You slide a hand up into his hair and pull his face closer to yours, attempting to kiss him, “Choso…”
He avoids your little gesture and teases you with a smile as he pulls up a little, “I could send him a video.”
“Choso please,” You frown at your husband’s sudden suggestion.
His dripping tip knocks against the hilt of your cunt, stuffing you full over and over before he finally let out a sigh, “Tch, fine. I won’t,” Choso hums, leaning closer to your face just like you originally wanted him to before whispering, “But don’t let me catch you around him again, okay?”
You nod and your eyes drop to his lips, “Okay.”
“Mh,” Choso hums against you as he finally gives you a slight kiss, feeling how you whine at the loss of the gentle contact when he pulls away, “Now tell me you love me, baby.”
You’re saying it faster than you could even process, “I love you, Cho.”
Oh his entire body reacts to that— hips drawing back, tip teasing your folds for a moment as he taunts you, “Yeah?”
“Mhmmm,” You hum eagerly.
His head tips to the side and he smirks, angling himself so that his cockhead bumps up against your clit, “How much?”
“Love you s’much,” You mumble, a slight whines leaving your throat after.
“Aww, do you? Y’love me so much?” Choso coos. His voice was as deep as ever but soft with you nonetheless before he moves his lips to your ear and shifts his cock back down to your twitching hole. Easing himself back in, “Or do you jus’ love gettin fucked like this?” Choso whispers.
The delicious stretch his cock created as it pushed back inside you had you gasping, “B-Both.”
“Both, huh?” Choso scoffs and his lips press against the shell of your ear, “Fuckin’ slut.”
Then he’s dragging his hips back and rutting them down into you with haste, listening to how each thrust makes you gasp and moan. You were so cute when you couldn’t handle him.
Your nails scratched at his scalp and his upper back, leaving bright red marks on his skin and making him hiss. Bulging cock sinking in and out of you so hard that all you could do was hold onto him and moan.
“H-Hhgnn…” You cry out— cunt tightening around him and earning a deep groan.
“Fuuuck, almost forgot you love that,” Choso huffs, the corner of his lips twitching into a smirk, “Y’like it when I’m mean t’you, huh?”
“Ah, mgh, y-yeah,” Your voice comes in a sultry whimper and Choso groans again with how tight your pussy was clinging onto his cock, sucking him in deeper than he could handle.
His breath grows hot against your ear, “S’that why you let him hug you? You wanted to piss me off?” Thrusting harder and harder with his questions, your eyes begin to roll back.
“M-Maybe,” You manage to respond with a fucked-out smile taking over your expression.
“Maybe? Fuck, you’re so cute, baby.” Choso purrs, “If you wanted me to fuck you like I hate you and call you a slut, all you had to do was ask.”
And then he’s doing just as he’s described— plump cockhead abusing your sweet spot by hitting it over and over, “H-Hahh, ah, nngh, t-that’s-, fuck, e-embarrassing Cho.”
Choso chuckles, “Askin’ for me to do somethin’ I’ve done before during sex isn’t embarrassing, baby. Y’know I’ll do anything you ask of me.”
You start pouting all over again, babbling an “M’sorry,” Without really understanding why you’re still apologizing.
“Mhm. Prove it by squirtin’ on me again,” Choso tells you before moving to sit up. He then tugs your thighs over his and fuck does the tip of his dick make you see stars for a second as he repositions himself slightly.
His hands grip onto your hips and he continues his rough pace like it’s nothing, hair disbelieved with a few dark stands sticking to his forehead.
“Cho,” You say in attempt to convince him to slow down for a moment.
Unfortunately for you, your voice only drives him crazier. You were so whiney, it caused blood to rush to the head of his cock and his balls to ache— everything about you was intoxicating.
“I’ll send your lil’ friend a picture of these messy ass sheets afterward, ‘kay?” Choso pants, lips parting as he releases a slight moan from your pussy dripping all over him. Such a messy girl you were, not that he’d prefer you any other way.
“Choso.” You manage almost sternly, sending him a pointed look.
He pouts and decides to play innocent as if his cock wasn’t currently tearing you apart, “Don’t scold me, I gotta do something, baby.”
Rolling your eyes, you reach a hand down and graze his pelvis— making a fail of an attempt at pushing him away, “S’not nice.”
Choso snaps his hips forward as if to make a point and fuck his frustrations right into you, “Good thing m’not tryin’ to be fuckin’ nice then, right?”
★ Nanami Kento
Who swears he was never a jealous man. He's seen the way people look at you time and time again and never has he batted an eye-- why would he? Nanami's confident in himself enough to know that no other man would come in and steal your heart the way he has.
And such confidence remained up until today.
After a long day of work, there's nothing more he wants to come home to than his lovely girlfriend who he's been infatuated with for years now. Yet, today was different.
Walking into the shared apartment, unlike normal, you didn't come running up to him with a hug and a million kisses. Odd, he thought to himself, followed by a call of your name that echoed throughout the home.
"In the kitchen, Ken," You replied back, the sweet sound of your voice making him smile as he puffed out a sigh.
He's not sure where the momentary worry came from but it subsided as he figured you may have been busy with something. As Nanami takes his jacket off, he moves a hand to losen his tie, soon raking a hand through his hair afterward.
The house was awfully quiet, void of sounds of cooking or your voice-- which was, again, odd. Stepping out of his shoes, Nanami steadily makes his way to the kitchen, soon spotting you and feeling a thousand pounds of stress lift off of his shoulders at the mere sight of you.
And in a sundress no less. You were on your phone, fingers tapping away at the screen with a slight smile on your face, your body bent forward against the kitchen counter with your back arched ever so slightly as you stood comfortably.
The sound of footsteps approaching you made you turn your head toward you boyfriend and flash him a loving smile. "Hi Kento, how was work?" You chirped sweetly.
"Fine, my love. How was home?" Nanami replied sweetly as he leaned down to you. A sudden buzz from your phone made you move your gaze and Nanami found himself giving you a slight peck on your lips but your eyes were elsewhere.
Whatever was on your phone must've been quite intriguing. "Home was wonderful. I did some cleaning today so..." You trail off and Nanami just gazes at you as your words fade away.
His brows begin to push together, "So...?"
You blink a few times, fingers tapping away at your screen yet again, "So uh," Trying to focus on both your boyfriend and the male you were texting at the same time was proving to be rather difficult for you.
Hence why Nanami sighs heavily and moves a hand to your back, caressing you gingerly, "Everything alright, love?"
You nod, "Mhm... Sorry about that, Ken. What was I saying again?" You ask as you turn to him with curious eyes.
He gazes at you, wondering how your attention could be so diverted. This was unusual coming from you but he shrugs it off, "You were telling me about how you cleaned up today?"
"Oh! Yes, I was gonna say I felt rather productive today," You finally get out before, again, turning away and to your phone.
Nanami nods his head, "I see. Is there something going on, sweetheart?"
You chuckle, "What? No, why?"
For a moment, your boyfriend does nothing more than watch how consumed you are by the conversation taking place through text on your phone. "You seem awfully distracted, is all," He sighs.
"Ohhh, no," You smile, "It's just this coworker of mine was wondering why I didn't show up today and then he and I-"
"He?" Nanami echoes aloud mistakenly. He hadn't meant to voice that, it was more of a thought.
Slowly, your head turns to your boyfriend yet again and despite the smile on your face, your brows push together and your expression is skeptical, "Yes, Kento, he. Is that an issue?"
"No, of course not," Nanami shakes his head before glancing off to the side with a shrug, "I just wasn't aware you were so close with any of your male coworkers."
You blink, "I'm really not, it's just him."
For some reason, his heart pangs a bit as you say that, "Just him, huh?" Nanami hums to himself.
"Mhm," You nod. Then, ignoring the clear attitude this has brought on, you turn to your phone and return to your texting.
Steadily, Nanami's eyes trail back over to you and he watches you type before rolling his eyes. He's not even sure why this is bothering him but he then moves to stand behind you, his crotch pressing into your ass as he begins to crave more of your attention.
He's truly not used to it being on anyone else that's not him.
"And what are you two discussing now that's so..." His words trail for a minute, eyes dragging along the slight curve in your back as you remained arched perfectly in such an effortless way, "...Important," Nanami soon finishes with a sharp narrow of his eyes.
"Well, he asked to come over for some reason and I'm not really sure how to respond," You reply honestly as you stare at the most recently received text.
Nanami's head cocks back a bit and he scoffs, "He's asked to come over?"
You nod, "Yes."
There's a pause but then your boyfriend leans forward and you can feel his muscular thighs press into the back of yours as his torso leans over. A hand is placed on the counter beside your waist and you look back over your shoulder to see Nanami nearing you.
His gentle eyes meet yours, "Can I see?"
You grin innocently, having nothing to hide from him whatsoever, "Sure," Handing him your phone, Nanami doesn't hesitate to read the messages exchanged from the past hour or so, seeing that this coworker of yours has be trying to flirt with you for some time now.
"Hm," He hums, "Does he always refer to you as uh," He clicks his tongue and scoffs, "Pretty girl?"
You shrug, "Well, yes and I've asked him to stop-"
"And yet you keep talking to him instead of blocking his number?" Nanami cuts off faster than he means to, eyes flipping up from the phone and to your face.
You flash a sheepish little smile, not exactly understanding the issue here, "I mean, he is my coworker."
For a moment, the two of you just stare at one another. Nanami seems to be bothered but not exactly upset just yet, his brown eyes boring into yours as you have this completely clueless look on your face.
Weighing his head to the side ever so slightly, "...That enjoys flirting with you despite knowing you have a boyfriend?" Nanami finishes your statement for you questionably.
You bat your eyes at him and your brows go up, "W-Well-"
"Y'know what," Nanami places your phone down, "Why don't you invite him over?" He suddenly suggests.
You’re taken all the way back by the sudden statement, giving your boyfriend nothing more than a blank stare before uttering a baffled, "Huh?"
"Tell him he can come over,” He repeats, sliding the phone toward your hands and then moving his own to his belt. There’s a slight shuffle as he unbuckles his belt, the simply clacks making your heart skip a steady beat as you realize where he’s going with this. “I'll should be done by the time he gets here,” Nanami says.
Again, you blink in a confused manner before taking your phone up and doing as he’s just suggested— telling your coworker he can make his way over to you.
After which, you turn off your phone and return your eyes back to your boyfriend whose hands were busy tossing his belt onto the nearby floor. Your eyes then dropped down to his crotch and you swayed your hips to the side a bit to get a better look— spotting the heavy tent in his pants and gulping at the sight.
“Kento…” You hush out, earning a hum from him, “Is everything alright?” Your tone was so very soft and sappy with him, the sound making his heart ache in emotions beyond comprehension.
“Of course, my love,” He replies gently, sending you a quick smile, “I just need you right now, is that okay?”
Your gaze lifts and you meet his pretty brown eyes, lashes fluttering at how handsome he looks standing behind you, “You know that’s okay Ken, I’m all yours.”
He just about forgets the idea of restraint after that statement of yours. Of course he knows you’re all his but hearing it come out of your mouth with zero hesitation even after having another man flirt with you was…
Well, it was reassurance. Reassurance Nanami didn’t realize he enjoyed hearing.
Which is why he has you repeating similar phrases like that within the next few minutes as he fucks you into the kitchen counter.
Hips bruising with the way they were pressed into the counter edge, panties tugged to the side and nearly ripped off of you, back arched like a goddamn slut for your boyfriend, and messy folds stretched open as Nanami pounded his heavy cock into your tight hole— you were soon on cloud nine.
“Repeat that for me love,” Nanami grunts, breath coming out in heavy pants as his hips clash into yours over and over and over again.
You could hardly breathe properly and your mind was all frazzled, nearly everything that came out of your mouth was a moan and yet he still expected you to speak to him.
“K-Kento,” You gasp his name in erotic breathes, “Fuuuck, hahh, I… I said m’all yours,”
A sharper thrust is given in response to you, one of his hands gripping onto the bundled part of your dress at your lower back and the other coming down hard on your ass, “Yeah? All mine to ruin, right?” Nanami huffs out.
All you could do was nod, “Uhuh.” His hips were to damn harsh against your ass, thick cock drilling into your hole despite how lovingly he was speaking to you not too long ago.
“All mine to fuck senseless,” Nanami continues, his aroused tone making your cunt tighten around him.
Your jaw falls open as he starts knocking into that sappy spot inside you, each thrust making your legs quake and the fat of your ass ripple against him, “Yes Ken-, f-fuck.” You stammer, eyes watering and your nails scraping against the counter.
“Oh darling,” He groans, tossing his head back and then moaning at how wet you were for him, how easy it was for his cock to slide in and out and in and out, “Do you have any idea what you to t’me? Huh?” Nanami huffs.
“Mhmm,” You barely whine in response, your body jerking forward with his every mean thrust.
Steadily, he rolls his head back into place, eyes glancing down at the obscene stretch of your pussy lips around the shaft of his cock, “Are you sure? Y’know it upsets me to see another man flirt with you,” He says, voice surprising sturdy despite how well you’re taking him.
“M’sorry Ken,” You’re quick to apologize as if you’ve done something wrong and your boyfriend frowns at you.
“Huh. No need to be sorry, sweetheart,” Nanami coos, and god you feel your legs drawing together at how gentle his tone is with you. “S’not your fault, you didn’t do anything wrong,” He whispers.
Followed by which is the slight shift in his hips, angling his thrusts a little and causing your entire body to twitch below him. Nanami knows every inch of your body like the back of his hand.
How could he not? He’s studied you very closely— hence why the slight shift causes the curve of his cock to just drill into you so hard that you’re seeing stars.
“Mmgh, ahh, hahh, K-Kento,” You whine, your torso beginning to lift from the counter as if to try to escape his thrusts for a moment.
Jaw gone slack, drool slipping out of the corner of your mouth, nails scraping for some kind of hold, and legs shaking as they drew together— you were losing your mind.
“Hm?” Nanami replies so simply, too simply, as if he wasn’t currently fucking the air out of your lungs.
You gasp and your voice grows airy, “Fuck-, oh fuck… m’gonna cum again.”
He tilts his head and smiles, “Again? Aw, you’re so messy for me today,” Nanami says before his hand shifts into the arch of your back and he presses you down onto the counter.
Pinned, you could no longer try and escape his mean thrusts for even a second. Nanami was relentless with you, cock fucking you full, pussy drooling against him, coating his veins— you couldn’t even formulate proper sentences anymore.
“Hhggnh, hahhh, ah, ah…” You moaned loudly with not a single care in the world, eyes rolling back as your cheek pressed into the cold kitchen counter.
“So loud too,” Nanami comments. Then he’s leaning closer to you, cock bottoming you out and making you gasp and whimper.
“Kenn,” Is all you could say for a moment, eyes watering and breath leaving you.
His voice is suddenly next to your ear as his muscular frame leans over yours, “Yes love? I’m right here.” He emphasizes that last word with a deep thrust, making your legs nearly give out for a second.
“I know, I know-,” You babble, trying to pull your head away from his to escape his deep tone in your ear. “Fuck, fuuck, I feel you s’deep.” You whimper again, pouting while trying to catch a moment to breathe.
“Mmhmm, feel me riiight there, huh?” Nanami asks. And god was he right where you wanted him, fat cockhead jerking into your sweet spot and turning your legs into utter mush beneath him.
“Y-Yes, yes, m-mhmm,” Your squeeze shut and a tear rolls down your cheek, heavy pants leaving your throat, “Shit.”
Nanami moves to kiss the crown of your ear lovingly, “Aw, look at you. You close, pretty?”
You’re quick to nod without second thought, “Yes.”
“C’mon then,” His lips move and press against your ear, “Give it to me.”
And then you’re coming undone, repeating his name over and over, “K-Kento, Kento fuck-, Ken.” He loves it too, smiling against your ear as he grunts at the way your cunt throbs and twitches as you cum on his cock.
“Hahh, you sound so pretty moaning my name like that,” He comments before pulling away from your ear, “Look at me while you do it this time,” He utters, earning a steady turn of your head as you angle it back to meet his gaze. Then he smiles at you, hips rolling into you and tip smearing against your gummy walls, “Mhm, thaaat’s it— good girl.”
“Mmh, mmgh!” Your eyes flicker as he slows down to you can really feel him. “Ahh… K-Ken,” You whisper.
His cock aches inside you, “Repeat that, what’s my name?”
Struggling to keep your eyes open, you try your best to maintain eye contact, “Kento.”
“Whose cock are you makin’ a mess on right now?” He questions, tone a but harsh with you as he drags his hips back.
Snapping them forward just as you answer him, you end up stuttering, “Y-Yours Ken.”
“Mhm,” His brows tense as he pulls back yet again. This time, he moves a hand around and grabs ahold of your jaw, tugging your body up off the counter a bit and your face closer to his, “Last question. Who do you belong to, hm?”
“Y-You Kento, m’all yours,” You pant, lips wet with drool and eyes glossy from tears.
All Nanami does is flash a slight smile before he’s rutting his cock right back into you, watching and listening to the way oxygen leaves your lungs, “That’s right. All fuckin’ mine.” Nanami groans, lips nearing yours with the way he pulls you closer to him. Then he’s whispering, “And your little coworkers gonna understand that after today.”
Just before his lips are on yours, you manage a staggered little, “W-What?” In question.
He chuckles, “Oh, you didn’t hear him? He knocked on the door a few minutes ago,” Nanami tells you, watching your entire face twist up as you’re too fucked out to really understand that. “I’m sure he heard you moaning my name…”
★ Toji Fushiguro
“So, you hate me, huh?” Toji dramatically huffs out as soon as the two of you enter your home again.
You groan and stomp off to your shared bedroom, trying to escape your annoyingly jealous husband due to what’s recently occurred. You’re apparently not allowed to be friends with his friends— or at least, not Shiu Kong allegedly.
Toji’s quick to stride into the bedroom behind you, hands stuffed into his pockets as he watches you storm around the room with a smirk on his face. You were so cute when you were annoyed with him.
Tipping his head to the left, his eyes narrow at you snatching your jacket off as you tried to give him the silent treatment, “Not sure why you’re so upset, y’know. I wasn’t the one pressin’ my tits into someone’s face,” He scoffs.
His hands lift out of his pockets and he crosses his arms over his beefy chest, eyes yet to leave your overly annoyed figure standing by the bed.
You send him a pointed glare before openly rolling your eyes at him, letting him know you’re upset.
Toji cocks his head back at the gesture and his brows raise, “Fucks’ your problem, huh? Mad at me ‘cause of somethin’ you did?”
“No, Fushiguro. Leave me alone,” You huff, frustrated frown etching its way across your lips.
“Ohh, now she decides to speak? And she uses our last name to address me too?” Toji’s baffled by your little attitude, a bit entertained, but baffled nonetheless.
You sigh loudly and move to grab your nearest sweatpants, “Leave me alone.”
“Why, huh?” Toji scoffs, “Y’mad about what I said to Shiu?”
Your eyes move to a slow blink before you click your tongue, “Well, seeing as you told him never to come around us again and that I’m, apparently, ‘not his fuckin’ friend’, maybe.”
Toji doesn’t react much to you mocking him and his expression stays relatively the same, “The hell is wrong with my statement?”
“I made a mistake and you took it out on him,” You explain as you tug your sweats on and move to take your shirt off.
“No, you both made a mistake ‘nd I’m takin’ it out on both of you.” Toji corrects. He was a bit more upset than he led on, “Your dumb ass leaned over him for some stupid fuckin’ water bottle and his eyes went to your tits as if it were second nature.”
You grit your teeth, “It was an accident Toji.”
“Nah, fuck that. Accident my goddamn ass, how many times has he looked at you like that, huh?” Your husband suddenly questions, sounding like he was implying something more as he took a step closer to the bed.
Your brows push together and you shrug, “I don’t know-“
“Oh and let’s not forget the way he grabbed your waist to, what?” He scoffs, “‘Help’ you? ‘Keep you steady’?” Toji continues, hardly giving you a second to even try and respond, “Not sure where ya’ brains at today doll, but Shiu is way too fuckin’ comfortable touchin’ you and I don’t like it.”
You shoot him nothing more than a blank yet frustrated stare, “Toji.”
His eyes are already on yours, giving you the same energy through his looks, “What?”
Sighing, “You’re being dramatic.” You tell him.
That ticks him off just right because then his face is twisting up into a scowl, “Dramatic? I’m being fuckin’ dramatic? Girl don’t piss me off,” Toji warns.
You find the nerve to laugh at him, “Don’t piss you off? Toji you’ve been whining about this all damn day. It’s over now, isn’t it?”
He decides to ignore your little jab at him and he steadily walks over to the side of the bed you’re standing at, “No, it’s not. You haven’t even apologized.”
You chuckle, “For what?”
He finds himself standing not too far from you, glaring at your confused facial expression, “Bein’ mad at me for no damn reason, that’s what.”
You roll your eyes at him again, “Toji you told me I can’t be friends with your friend.”
“Maybe because he wants to fuck you?” Toji fires back.
Another scoff leaves you and you start shaking your head at your husband's ridiculous claims, “He doesn’t.”
“Soo, he just looked at your tits for no reason?" Toji asks, leaning toward you a bit and tilting is head as if to intimidate you, "He grabs your waist ‘nd says, 'I got you sweetheart' for no fuckin’ reason, right?”
Your throat runs dry at that. You may have forgotten Shiu said that to you, having not really paid much attention to it when he did, “I-“
“Do you not know what the fuck flirting looks like?” Toji lectures, taking one last step toward you so that his body was hardly an inch away from yours.
Your head tips back a bit so that you could look up at him, swallowing hard at how upset your husband seems to be and all your confidence on the matter nearly fading. “I do, but-“
“There is no but. He wants to fuck my wife," He interrupts, "Why the hell would I let you two be friends knowing that?”
That's when you sigh again, “Toji, you don’t know that he wants to fuck me, you’re assuming things-“
One of his hands flies up to his face and he starts rubbing his temples out of pure frustration, “Woman, he checks you out at every chance he gets when he thinks I’m not payin’ attention.”
“He-“
“He touched you all too inappropriately, right in front of me," Toji reminds you.
You try to take up for Shiu's actions, still not seeing what the issue behind it was, “He was making sure I didn’t fall over.”
A little pissed of smirk tugs at the corner of Toji's scared lips and he turns his head to the side as he looks away from you, scoffing, “Riiiiight.”
“I’m serious!” You utter pleadingly.
“So..." Toji slowly returns his gaze to you and his voice gets stern, "You don’t see anything sexual behind a man holding your waist and saying 'I got you sweetheart'?”
“No.” You reply confidently.
“Hm. Alright, then." Your husband nods before he's moving to pull his shirt up and over his head, your eyes widening at the man as one of his hands then go to your waist and he tugs your body to his, "Lemme show you somethin’ if that’s the case...”
And then you’re on the bed with your husband moments later— bouncing up and down on his hard cock as Toji fucked up into you, your tits jumping in his face, jaw hanging open, and his hands holding right onto your waist.
“See what I mean now?” Toji huffs, “See how fuckin’ sexual this shit is?”
“T-Toji-, hahhh, fuck, t-this is so much different," You moan at the constant stretch of his fat cock rutting up into your swollen folds, one of his thumbs at your clit as rolling circles over the twitching bud.
“Yeah, ‘cause I’m doin’ what he fantasizes about," Toji tells you, smiling a bit as he watches your face twist up.
Your brows tensed and your jaw fell as his leaky cockhead drilled deep into you, “M-Mmgh, s-so… big.” You whine with your hands at his shoulders and nails scraping him as his harsh thrusts made your body jerk upward.
Toji's steel grip on your waist was the only thing keeping you from falling off of you, his fingers digging into your skin. Every time he thrusted his hips up, he'd use his grip to tug you back down-- forcing your cunt to spread open over his aching cock over and over, “Aww, don’t worry sweetheart, I gotchu’."
You gasp at his words, core throbbing due to his heavy tone, “Fuck-“
“Yeahh, see how fuckin’ wet that shit made you? Knew’ you weren’t fuckin’ stupid," Toji grunts out. He was so mean to you, taking out his frustrations from earlier on your pussy by soon spitting down on the, already, filthy mess below, adding to the slickness of it all and making you twitch.
Your hips try their best to keep up with him, rutting and rocking forward to keep his cock sucked deep inside you, “S-Shut up,” You tell your husband only to earn a scoff.
“Nahh," Toji begins to move his hands and your heart jumps. He tugs your torso near his before he's wrapping his big arms around your waist, locking you into place above him with your chest sandwiched against his, "Apologize t’me."
Your brows furrow and your eyes gloss over as his hips begin to pound his swollen cock up into you, obscene squelches of your cunt following as he does so. Your words come out in a whiney stammer, “F-For what-“
“Playin’ fuckin’ dumb, that’s what," Toji cuts off, eyes staring right into yours as he watched your face sink into that pretty fucked out state.
“Shiit," You gasp at how you couldn't move an inch, couldn't pull away or slow his thrusts down for a moment, forced to take every thick inch of his cock, "O-Okay, m’sorry-,”
Toji smiles, “Again.”
“M’sorry Toji," You whine. His arms were wrapped around you so tightly that you couldn’t even look away from him. You were both embarrassed and being fucked to tears simultaneously.
“Mmmh, without the mumblin’ this time," Toji instructs, gaze dropping to your wet lips so he can watch how you struggle, "Talk proper to me, girl.”
And of course, right after he he says that to you, he decides to then flip you both over so he's on top. “I-, hahh," You pant at the way his hands move to your legs and press them down against your chest, folding you up just how he wants to. "I’m… s-sorry Toji," You cry out.
With the way he's bucking his hips down into you, suddely calculated with his thrusts and making your eyes go wide. You were on the verge of screaming his name with how good his cock felt splitting you open.
“Close, but y’still stuttered," Toji tells you. His breathing was growing just as heavy as yours but that didn't stop him from teasing you for even a second.
“Fuck you-," You breathe out, earning a smile from him, "...I’m sorry.” You end up saying anyway because how could you disobey your husband when he's got you folded up like this, his veins throbbing against your gummy walls as you squeezed the life out of his cock.
Toji tilts his head a little, “Sorry what?”
“I-I’m sorry Toji," You correct yourself before he's leaning his weight onto you and god his cock pushes impossibly deeper. You were so full of him that air was getting hard to come by.
“Oneee more time f’me, baby," Toji whispers all of a sudden, his face close to yours and your legs practically over his shoulders. "C’mon, you can do it.”
“Hhgnnn… oh-, mmgh… I…" Your jaw falls open again and you struggle. His cockhead was hitting your insides right where you needed him, you could feel your core tensing and your legs going numb, "...I’m sorry Toji.”
Your husband smiles at you, “There ya’ gooo, atta’ girllll.” He praises, feeling the way your pussy narrows tightly around his cock just as you start cumming on him.
“Fuck.” Is the most you could get out of your mouth that wasn't an incoherent moan.
Then Toji notices you trying to move your hands to push him away a little and he softens his tone, “Hey, stop thaat, don’t give out on me," Toji coos, the sudden softness making your stomach churn before he moves a thumb to your clit again, "I gotchu’, pretty girl.”
“F-Fuck. Ohmygod-“ Your back arches up off the bed a bit and you whimper.
Toji just gawks at you, “Uhuh, now… y’won’t talk to Shiu again after this, right?” He questions, juuust to be sure you got the message after all this.
You nod in agreement, “N-No, I-, mmh, I won't t-talk t'him again…”
Fat cock rolling down into your pussy, your slick making his cock slid in so easily, “Y'sure?”
You nod, “Yes.”
Toji pouts a little just to mock the face you were making, “Yes who?”
Your eyes just barely meet his and his thumb presses against your clit, making your voice come out in a moan, “Yes Toji.”
“Mh," He hums, leaning down to kiss you tenderly, "Good girl.”
★ Gojo Satoru
He doesn’t even let you explain yourself.
One ninety-second hug with some guy you claim you’ve known since college, his arms around your waist and yours wrapped around his neck— was just about all it took for Gojo to get the picture.
Then there was the way the guy whispered into your ear and you laughed-, no, giggled at whatever was said.
What else does Gojo need to know after that? Clearly you forgot who you’ve been dating for the past few years…
Which is why Gojo reminds you through rough backshots in the backseat of your car as soon as you return to him. He hand a heavy hand on the back of your head, pressing your face down against the carseat as his toned hips clashed into your ass.
Swollen cockhead pushing past your twitching folds for the nth time while he bullies into your pussy. The loud smack of his balls against you fills the entirety of the vehicle, Gojo’s free hand pressing down into your arch and furthering it for him so he could angle his dick into that spot that makes you utterly weak.
“Wonder what the hell was so funny,” He huffs. He’s breathless by this point, having been dirty talking your ear off and giving you no time to respond— telling you how pretty your pussy looks taking every inch of him and how cute you sound crying his name into the seat.
“M-Mmgh, hnngh… ahh, S-Satoru,” Your voice was muffled against the carseat but neither of you cared, he heard you clear enough.
“Hm? What was so funny, baby? Tell me,” Gojo requests, not slowing his thrusts down for even a moment.
Merciless, he was. Fucking you like you were a goddamn slut off the street and he was a sex-deprived man, his pelvis was so angry against you, leaving marks with how harshly it met your ass, a hand moving every now and then just to palm the fat of the slight curve.
You were too busy drooling onto the carseat, cockdrunk out of your mind and fucked out beyond belief. You don’t think Gojo’s ever fucked you this hard before— the car was rocking with his every thrust and you’re pretty sure your muffled moans could be heard from outside the vehicle.
Sure, your windows had tint on them but it still wouldn’t take a genius to figure out what was going in within the car.
“What was he sayin’ t’you? Huh? Was he tellin’ you how badly he wants to fuck you? S’that why you laughed?” Gojo scoffs, still giving you no time to respond whatsoever, “I’d laugh too, shit… No one gets to fuck you aside from me, after all.” He finishes off with a cheeky little shrug.
You hated how much he was rambling right now but your brain was too consumed in pleasure to really care, “Toruu, fuuck-, oh, mmh…”
“No one else gets to feel this pussy suck the soul outta’ their cock, right?” Gojo groans, tossing his head back and drilling himself into the hilt, almost as if he were trying to reach deeper, “Jus’ me?”
All you can do is hum messily, “Mhmmm.”
He lets out a breathy chuckle and his hand lands across your ass again, head moving yo look down at the marks he’s left thus far before he cracks a smile, “Say it.”
“J-Jus’ you, ‘Toru.” Your voice was small, hardly audible but Gojo didn’t much care, he’d heard enough anyway.
So, he smiles at your struggle in speech, finding you nothing but adorable in this state, “Yeahh, that’s my girll.”
Then he’s moving his hands, feeling every inch of your body like he always does. There’s never a single part of you that goes untouched by Gojo Satoru when he fucks you. And as of right now, his large hands were taking place on your ass, spreading you apart to get a better look at your wet parted folds sucking in his cock.
“Pussy’s so fuckin’ pretty takin’ my dick like this too. I mean damn,” Gojo lets out a moan in between his sentence, unable to help himself at the sight before him, “Look at her drip all over me. She’s nasty, baby.”
Then he’s slowing his thrusts, but not stopping. Instead he gets calculated, fucking his cock in slow but pointed, top poking at your gummy spot and making your legs quake.
Drool smears across your cheek and your face was a goddamn mess but, you’d worry about all that later, “S-S’toru…”
“Mhm, I know, you’re about t’cum again, huh?” Gojo hums sweetly, the wet sounds of your cunt taking him in making his brows tense.
You were in complete disarray— debauched and filthy just how he liked. Shooting a glop of spit down onto his cock, he watched with a smile as he eases forward before there’s nothing more than an inch left out of you, only to thrust the last bit in and watch your fingers curl as you scrape against the seat.
“Uhuhh,” You breathe helplessly.
Gojo cocks his head to the side, “Gonna make another mess on me, pretty girl?”
“Y-Yeahh.”
“Mhm, good,” Gojo praises lightly before pulling out. He takes his cock into one of his hands and taps it against your pussy folds, listening to the light and wet smack his cock made against you and biting his lower lip, “But y’know… I wonder what had you so wet, baby.” He teases.
That was the only chance you got to catch your recently lost breath and you angle your head back a little to look at him, “Hm?”
Gojo’s eyes were down as he watched himself play with your pussy, smearing his leaky his tip in between your folds, “Was it him? Did he tell you how pretty you looked today? Hm?” Gojo wonders, “S’that why your cunt was droolin’ before I could even get your panties off?”
Your brows tense and you try wiggling your hips back a little, “N-No…”
“No? Aw, so what was it then?” Your boyfriend questions curiously. He’s now pushing an inch in and out of your cunt, watching how your pussy twitches everytime he pulls out and chuckling at you, “Surely it wasn’t the way I was rubbin’ my fingers against you… Nah, you were too busy thinkin’ about that other guy, right?”
You groan, “No, ‘Toru.”
He snickers, “No? Buut, you guys looked like you had a great convo.”
“W-We did but that’s only cause… hahh… mmmh, I-,” Gojo starts inching more of his cock into you and you struggle to finish explaining. After taking a deep breath, “I spent the whole time talkin’ a-about you.”
“Aww, really?” His hips snap forward after you say that, “Fuck, you bragged about me?” Gojo moans out, face growing hot with arousal.
Nodding, you hum in response, “Mhmm.”
“Shiit, that almost makes me feel bad,” Gojo pouts a little before shifting his palm over your ass, caressing your skin tenderly.
He’s still rutting his dick in and out of you but his voice and his touch is much softer.
“W-Why?” You ask.
“Cause’…. I’m fuckin’ you like you did somethin’ wrong for no reason…” Gojo whispers, seeming to be disappointed in himself for a second.
Then, he sees the way your eyes go back as his cock hits that one spot again, “Mmgh.. S-Satoru, r-right theree…”
And with that, he’s no longer disappointed and shrugs off all his doubts, going on to fuck you like he’s mad at you, “S’okay tho’, you like me like this anyway…”
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p.s. ty guys for 1k followers here :3
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arolesbianism · 2 months
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Thinking abt my dupes some more, and it's such a joy imagining them working together to try and invent new stuff for their needs with their limited resources, especially when it comes to the guys anywhere but the main colony where the only actual scientist lives lol
#rat rambles#oni posting#tbf there is a doctor on one of the other colonies so its a good thing mi-ma has her at least#just the crew all learning to genuinely create for the first time and being estatic as someone makes a toaster or smth for the first time#and then they realize they can fuck around with food too and chefs have to swat everyone away from the stove to hog the creative joys#meanwhile the diggers are just staring with big sad eyes at the engineers and burt begging them to upgrade their mining guns#they wanna have fun with new things too!!! please somehow invent a neutronium blaster that the poor sad diggers can have fun with#meanwhile burt is just sitting there experiencing The Horrors (digging through olivia's database)#well ok several dupes are going through their own personal horrors since theyve yet to reinvent therapy 😔#a good chunk of them are going through the horrors of their primary food source being raw lettus lol#hey this is future them I can imagine theyve been sent duskcaps and pufts and have managed to enjoy a wider diet#and that the main colony have been getting to leech off of the stuffed berries from their teleporter neighbors#the fourth colony I forgot abt when drawing the last drawing have been thriving off of grubberry pie for ages tho theyre living lavish#yes colonizing that planet was an ordeal since its the flipped asteroid but its ok because they survived#and by they I mostly mean quinn they were rly the only one who ever was at risk#just another near death experience to add to their list (most of them were radiation related lol)#that's what happens when you adamantly refuse to use athmo suits and proper radiation shielding while doing space travel#oh also lets imagine that they all eventually got propper spoms set up and cleaned up the hydrogen floating around literally everywhere#and that I fixed my power problems by using the natural gas vents that were very easily available to me#and lets also imagine they managed to set up proper cooling systems and disenfecting systems as well#anyways I need to go shower while I continue to think abt my lovely dupes
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tonycries · 3 months
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Go For It, Gojo! - G.S.
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Synopsis. You wouldn’t fuck Gojo Satoru even if you were paid… …is what you thought exactly five minutes before you were shoved against the wall of this cramped closet, his face stuffed in your soaked panties.
Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, academic rivals to lovers, student president! reader, unprotected sex, banter about physics, cunnilingus, oral sex (male + female), 7 minutes in heaven, college! AU, 69, Satoru is a tease down bad for you (and has a big dick), overstimulation, pet names (sweetheart, hardass), swearing.
Word count. 10.2k
A/N. I really don’t like physics. Art by @_3aem on X.
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Life truly has an awful sense of humor - almost as bad as Gojo’s, which you discovered on the first day of Advanced Quantum Physics. 
The air charged with nervous energy and the scent of freshly printed syllabi, you quickly snag a seat right at the front row of Professor Yaga’s class. 
Ah, you’ll never forget how peaceful those few seconds to yourself after introductions were - before the devil incarnate dramatically swung open those lecture hall doors and plopped himself down right next to you. Late. 
“Any closer to Yaga and you’d be fucking his wife, y’know.” a voice hums from beside you, shattering your daydreams of passing this class with flying colors and riding a wave of glory into becoming a Nobel prize-winning physicist. 
With a slight scowl, you turn your attention to the source of disturbance - only to meet eyes with (self-proclaimed) campus sweetheart, Satoru Gojo, leaning on his chair with an air of nonchalance. At your silence, he repeats, “I said any closer-”
“I heard what you said.” you snap, irritation flaring at the amused twinkle in his blue eyes and the mirthful grin that spreads across his lips at your reaction. “Doesn’t erase the fact that you’re sitting here too.” you raise a brow.
“Oh me? That’s because I’m already fucking his wife, sweetheart.” he deadpans with a blank expression. 
What? The tense silence that follows is deafening - for the first time ever in your life, you were shocked into speechlessness. 
A beat passes. One. Two. Before Gojo bursts into hysterics, clutching his stomach. “You- you shoulda seen the look on your face- HAHAHA-” he gets out between uncontrollable laughs. Face burning, you train your eyes forward and will yourself to not glance at the 6’3 mess cackling beside you.
Ugh. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Just think happy thoughts - kittens, quantum mechanics, being valedictorian. Desperately attempting to block out the giggling thorn at your side, you recoil at Professor Yaga’s extremely disapproving look in your direction. 
Panicking, and dreams of being his ace student slowly flushing down the drain, you quickly flip through your notes, attempting to catch up to where the lecture had now started. 
“Looks like we’re in trouble, partner~” Gojo’s dramatic stage-whisper catches the attention of students around you, them chuckling at your expense. 
“Hey, you’re the student president, right? Hey~ Heyyy prez~” As Professor Yaga continues his spiel about the syllabus, you continue to very obviously ignore the incessant comments that spill out of Gojo’s lips, to stifled laughs from his fast-forming entourage. 
The harder you tried to focus on Professor Yaga’s words, the louder and more absurd Gojo’s comments became - as if he’d made it his personal mission to enrage you. A sense of impending doom looming over you, you glare at him with a look that could’ve melted steel, hissing out, “Do you ever in your life shut the fuck up?”
Eyes widening in mock innocence, he grins “Oh~ I didn't know our student prez could get so feisty. Maybe I should take notes instead of doodling hearts around your name in my notebook.”
Ears ringing in embarrassment and frustration, and mind a whirlwind of how bad it would really be if you killed Gojo right here, you almost miss Professor Yaga’s question, “Now, would anyone here be able to discuss the interpretations in the debate between the Copenhagen interpretation and the Pilot-Wave theory?”
Teetering on the edge of your seat, you raise your hand, scrambling to salvage whatever is left of your academic reputation. You and- Gojo?
You start at the call of your name from Professor Yaga, “The Copenhagen Interpretation uses Heisenberg's uncertainty principle and emphasizes measurement to state that quantum-level particles can act as both waves and particles. It’s the most widely accepted and pragmatic theory.”
Gojo basically falls out of his seat in eagerness to answer after you.
“Ah, yes, Mr. Gojo.” 
You internally groan, ready for whatever bullshit was about to come out of his mouth. 
With a deep breath, “Not to be the devil’s advocate but the Pilot-Wave theory makes way more sense practically.”
Professor Yaga raises an intrigued eyebrow at Gojo’s statement, the class collectively holds a breath - as if awaiting the impending academic battlefield.
Gojo, with a cocky grin, plows on, “Think about it. The Pilot-Wave theory suggests that particles have definite positions and paths, unlike the uncertainty principle of the Copenhagen Interpretation. It's like predicting where a ball will land after you throw it, rather than saying it could be anywhere until you look."
Oh? He wasn’t a complete idiot?
Yet, you roll your eyes, “But the Pilot-Wave theory is too fanciful, it brings in too many hidden variables that have their own set of problems. It goes against the measurements and principles of locality!”
Unbothered by the challenge, Gojo leans back further in his chair, “What’s a couple complications? It’s a lot clearer on a microscopic level, none of that weird uncertainty of the Copenhagen Interpretation.”
Irritation running through your veins, you scoff at his condescending tone, “It might seem intuitive, but experiments and observations support the probabilistic nature of quantum mechanics.” You’re almost out of your chair at this point, an accusing finger pointed at Gojo. “Despite its weirdness, the Copenhagen Interpretation has proven successful in predicting outcomes.” 
“Oh yeah? And it’s also only used by hardasses that just want to shut up and calculate, sweetheart.”
“Big talk for a little bi-” 
“OKAY STUDENTS, that’s enough for now. Let’s put a pin in this discussion and move on with the topic.” Professor Yaga, who had been watching the debate with amusement, promptly ends it once you two begin to get overly heated. 
The rest of the class, on the edge of their seats and probably hoping for some fists swinging between the academic titans, now sit back in disappointment at the fight cut off early. 
You sit back in indignation, fuming at how Gojo had gotten you so worked up. And he was wrong too! 
The lecture continues as if you two were never two curse words away from each other’s throats. 
But, in the midst of it all, your glare meets blue, sparkling with amusement - a jolt of electricity runs through your body at the glint of recognition of the other’s brilliance. An unspoken yet undeniable competition.
You’ve avoided Gojo like the plague for the past few months since then - which isn’t doing much when said plague follows you around everywhere with incessant calls of “Hey, hardass prez~”. The only time you seek him out being to gloatingly show off the large, red “100” on your tests - to which, unfortunately, he does the same. 
It’s stupid. It’s childish. Honestly, sometimes you think he just tries to get under your skin for the hell of it.
But you don’t have the time to think too deeply into that.
Just like you don’t have time for this frat party. 
Music and alcohol thrumming through your veins, it’s always the same thing. You’d rather be holed up getting ahead of your physics textbook than be here. Yet, you owed a favor to your friend Haibara - and he’d been bugging you to come to this party for weeks now. 
You’ll just stay another hour then leave, you sigh.
Zoning out as Haibara plays an overly-intense game of beer pong, you’re startled by an arm around your shoulder. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t our lil’ prez looking like she’d rather peel paint than be here.” The expensive cologne hits you before the realization of who this was. “Drooling over the jocks? I recommend the STEM majors, sweetheart, jocks aren’t that great in bed.”
Quickly shrugging off his arm, you scowl, “Not like STEM majors are any better. And unlike some people, I have goals beyond being the life of the party.”
Decked out in slacks and a slightly too-unbuttoned shirt, Gojo chuckles, “Yeah, like what? Banishing fun?” Cerulean eyes gleaming with mischief, “You gotta let loose for once, sweetheart. Not everything in life is about academics and accolades.”
You scoff, rolling your eyes “Well not like I-” but whatever snarky retort gets caught in your throat as Gojo seizes your hand, effortlessly pulling you onto the dance floor. 
Caught off guard, you can do nothing more than sputter in surprise as he leans down to murmur in your ear, above the bass reverberating the walls, “C’mon hardass, sometimes in life, you just gotta- dance!” 
Gojo spins you into a dramatic dip, his silver chain brushing your face and his hand on your back burning into your skin.
Your cheeks burn in embarrassment - yeah, embarrassment - as the people around you cheer in amusement at the science department’s biggest rivals navigating the dance floor with surprising chemistry.
This was ridiculous. And yet, music ringing in your ears, you almost crack a smile. Almost. That is until your eye catches Haibara’s surprised ones from the side of the dance floor. Wait - here you were dancing with Gojo. 
Gojo pain-in-your-ass Satoru.
Immediately pushing him off with a hand to his chest, you don’t listen to whatever spills out of his mouth as you make your way to Haibara, disappearing with him into the crowd.  
“Hey, hey you okay? Wasn’t that the guy you were manifesting would step on Lego with his bare foot?” Haibara’s concerned voice speaks up from wherever you were dragging him through this sprawling frat house. 
“Ugh, yeah. Sorry about that, I don’t even- Anyway, how did the beer pong go?” you snap out of your reverie. What happened there? You were almost…enjoying yourself with Gojo Satoru of all people. 
Listening to Haibara brag about his dominating beer pong win thankfully took your mind off of your little endeavor with Gojo. 
“And then Yuji totally-”
“AH, THERE YOU ARE! Perfect, come join we’re two people short!” your kinda-friend Shoko’s drunken drawl breaks through the conversation. You can barely get a word out as she forcefully drags you two into a dimly lit room against your protests. 
The atmosphere heavy with beer and laughter, she plops you two down onto the floor in a neat circle of people before taking her seat beside you. “GREAT! Now we’ve got everyone, we can finally start.”
With a mischievous grin, Shoko declares, “Alrighty, folks! Time for the ol’ classic - we’re playing 7 minutes in heaven!” pulling out an old-fashioned, tattered hat from behind her back, to a collective mix of groans and cheers from the circle. 
“Where did you even find that ratty old thing, Shoko?” a sharply handsome man - Geto, you think - chuckles from his seat opposite you. And beside him- your heart stops. Gojo.
A smirk curling his lips and twinkling blue eyes locked on you. 
As if on instinct, you move to get up - only to be brought back down by a hand on your wrist. “Nuh-uh, no one’s escaping, c’mon it’ll be fun.” Shoko smirks, beginning to hand out pieces of paper to write down your names.
Apprehension pooling in your stomach, you share a glance with Haibara, who was honestly just happy to be here. Reluctantly, you scrawl down your name, tension building as it drops into the abyss of the hat.
“As our first attempted escapee, I think the prez should go first.” that agitating voice you knew too well speaks up. If looks could kill, Gojo would be six feet under and you’d be dancing all over his grave with a textbook on the Copenhagen Interaction. 
To agreeing laughter - and your impending doom - the hat is promptly placed in front of you. God, you knew you should’ve stayed home. With a shaky hand, you delve in, grasping onto a slightly crumpled piece of paper.
Not Gojo. Please not Gojo. Literally anyone but Gojo- 
Turning it over.
Satoru Gojo.
You jolt in surprise, rereading the hasty handwriting over and over - as if willing it to change. This must be some kind of sick joke. Eyes meeting Gojo’s, a flash of surprises passes his face before a self-satisfied grin takes over. He looked way too fucking pleased with himself.
“No fucking way.” Shoko mutters as it dawns on the group just who you were paired up with. Cheers and wolf-whistles erupt, filling the room as Satoru stands up extending a hand theatrically towards you. “If her highness the student prez would do me the utmost pleasure of joining me.”
You scoff, jeez it would be a surprise if you two didn’t kill each other in there. “Unless she’s…intimidated?” he bats his long lashes at you mockingly.
Intimidated? Of who? Swatting away Gojo’s hand, you stand up. “Intimidated? Don’t make me laugh.” 
He leans down, retorting, “I’ve tried but you don’t seem to know how.”. The room holds their breath, attention squarely on the two of you.
A beat of silence passes as you glare at him. You really could smack his annoyingly pretty face right now, but you shouldn’t - too many witnesses. 
“Now now, you two. Save it for the closet.” 
Ever the mediator, Geto ushers you two in the direction of the - very cramped - closet tucked into a corner of the room. 
Before you know it, the creak of the heavy wooden door rings in your ears as the door closes behind you. The loud click of a lock resonates, plunging you two into darkness. 
The muffled sounds of the party seem miles away as you try to focus on your breathing - trying not to let your mind drift to Gojo. You could feel the heat of his body, the ghost of his presence less than a foot away from you.
“So…” you flinch as Gojo’s voice cuts through the deafening silence. “You still alive and breathing after being trapped in a tiny closet with me?”
You huff, desperately wanting to break out of this closet, “Yes, but you probably won’t be if you don’t stay on your side.”
“This closet is barely a closet, there’s no ‘side’, sweetheart. And that’s my leg you’re resting on.”
You immediately scramble to move away from the warmth of Gojo’s leg that you’d been subconsciously leaning yours on. In the chaos, you probably did a bit more damage than solving. “Ah! Wait- watch the crown jewels, hardass.” 
You distance yourself as much as possible in the small space, knee burning where it had brushed up against Gojo’s that.
God, you were making a fool of yourself.
“As much as I like forceful women, you better take me out on a date first, sweetheart.” As your eyes adjusted to the dim lighting filtering in through the slight crack of the door, you could make out that signature playful grin. 
Your irritation simmers beneath the surface. Gojo always knew how to get under your skin. 
“Don’t you worry your empty lil’ head, I wouldn’t fuck you even if I was paid.” you bite back.
“Oh yeah?” Gojo leans in slightly, his voice low and teasing. “You sure about that, prez? I’ve been told that I’m irresistible.”
You raise a brow, unimpressed. “Yeah, irresistibly hard to not smack.” 
“I always did like ‘em feisty. Makes our little debates all the more interesting.”
“Our debates would be a lot more interesting if you learned to keep that big mouth shut.”
“Oh? C’mon, prez, you love this ‘big mouth’. And you love the challenge. I see the way you look for me every time you answer one of Yaga’s questions, y’know.” Gojo murmurs, gaze piercing into yours.
He leans in closer - now definitely not on his side of the closet. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d call it chemistry. Admit it and I might consider not calling you ‘hardass’ for a whole week.”
“What- That’s just because- I’d rather be called ‘hardass’ for a lifetime than admit to having any chemistry with you. I can’t even tolerate you for seven minutes here.” you sputter at both his proximity and his (absurd) accusations.
“As the student prez, isn’t your entire job to tolerate everyone? You’re a walking contradiction, sweetheart.”
“I am not. You have no effect on me.” you protest, standing firm. In the heat of your argument, you and Gojo have drawn closer to each other. His breath now fanning your face as he hums, voice a seductive tease, “I do, admit it. There’s a part of you that likes our chemistry.”
A defiant spark ignites in your eyes, “I’ll admit no such thing.”
“Then…hit me like I know you want to if you don’t want this.” he whispers, voice breathless. He closes the distance.
Gojo’s lips meet yours. 
Soft, they were so soft. 
Your heartbeat thundering in surprise, a hand raising to - to what? Smack him away? Eyes fluttering closed, your hand fists his shirt, the other subconsciously finding its way to his cloudy locks. Tugging. Kissing him back. 
Satoru kisses you like he’ll never be able to again. Because, he knows - he probably won’t.
Lips searing against yours, his eyes roll to the back of his head at your taste. Sweet - so sweet - just like candy, with a hint of Baileys and everything that he’ll never be able to have. 
A strangled groan leaves his throat when you bite down on his lips. Tugging with your teeth. Shit, fuck him and his bigass ego, he wanted to be the one showing off his irresistibility but really it’s the other way around. 
Mouth opening to let you in, he drinks in your gasps as he intertwines his tongue with yours. Large hands on your face pulling you impossibly closer to him in this godforsaken closet. It was dizzying - almost as if it hurt to part, drawn by that familiar magnetism that always seems to hang around you.
Lost in the heat of the moment, Satoru’s hands wander the expanse of your body. Groping and squeezing every curve and dip - he doesn’t have enough time. He probably never will.
A hand rests firmly on your hips. Awaiting. Breaking away - just a fraction - he breathes out urgently into your lips, “I need to taste you. Let me taste you. Please.”
“Desperate, huh?”
Your gaze pierces through him, it always does. Immediately after your disoriented nod, he presses a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses along your neck. God, he could do this forever.
You shudder as he hastily bunches your tight dress at your hips, sending blood rushing straight to his cock. Shit, this was not how he expected these 7 minutes to go.
Hurriedly falling to his knees, the pain doesn’t even register when he comes face-to-face with your clothed cunt. Panties already so wet - just for him. Cock twitching carnally, he needed to taste you now. 
Tongue flattening across your swollen folds through your underwear, just a slight taste of your wet pussy and Satoru already thinks he might pass out. Ah, so good - of course you taste heavenly.
“Ah! Gojo- more.”
Pulling away, he feels drunk off the whimper of disappointment that escapes your mouth. “Call me Satoru.” he hums, fingers deftly sliding your soaked panties down your legs. His hot breath fanning your entrance has you clenching your thighs together, desperate for any friction.
Mouth watering at this, Satoru curses the darkness inside the closet - can’t even admire your pretty pussy right. You flinch as his face meets your cunt. Shit, this was better than he’d ever imagined on those lonely nights pathetically fucking his fist.
He breathes you in so sinfully, tongue sliding teasingly between your folds in a leisurely rhythm that almost has him forgetting however many minutes you two have left. Frankly, he couldn’t give less of a fuck about it either. Sinful squelches fill the confined space, along with your quiet moans of his name. 
“Hngh- S-Satoru. Feel s’good. Faster.” 
Ah, it’s really music to his ears. Your voice plays on repeat in his mind. He doesn’t even realize the call from outside until you look down at him, eyes dazed and kiss-bitten lips moving to panickedly mutter, “Satoru, we only have three more minutes.”
Ah, guess he’ll have to take his time in his dreams. 
“I only need two.” Satoru purrs, lips ghosting your wet core, voice sending goosebumps down your spine - all the way down to your dripping cunt. 
“W-well, stop hngh- running your mouth then.” you retort.
Satoru’s smirk against your plush folds is the last thing you see before he dives nose-deep in your pussy. He doesn’t waste time, tongue dipping in and out of your hole at an unforgiving pace. In and out in and out in and-
“Hah- yes! Satoru jus’ like that!” you hiss out, desperately trying to keep the moans ripping from your throat to a minimum, in fear of the others outside hearing. 
Noticing, Satoru snakes a hand up to your mouth - bullying his ringed-fingers in through your swollen lips. His index caresses your tongue, speeding up his movements on your pretty pussy as you gag around him. Moans catch in your throat as you struggle to accommodate him, the pleasure of being stretched from two ends too much. 
Satoru only has to take one look - tears clinging to your lashes and drool trickling down the corner of your mouth as you suck on his fingers - before he thinks he might just cum in his pants. Fuck, it was so lewd. 
You tighten your grasp on his hair, sure that your knees would give out if it wasn’t for the bruising grip he had on your hips, keeping you firmly on his mouth. Unable to run away. 
Shit, for someone so tight-laced, you were so messy on his mouth. He moans as your slick pools in his mouth, dripping down the corners of his lips. The  tap! tap! tap! of it hitting the hardwood floor rings deafeningly in his ears.
Ah, so this is why they call it 7 minutes in heaven. Satoru thinks he wouldn’t mind dying if it was in between your legs being suffocated by your cunt. 
Your entrance clamps down desperately on his tongue, forcing him to bully it into your snug pussy, fucking you unrelentingly. His nose rubbing against your swollen clit over and over. 
At this point, Satoru doesn’t know whether the pulse he feels is that of his heartbeat or your cunt, throbbing and achingly needy for his mouth. His nose stimulates your clit just right, sending shockwaves through your body that have you bucking into him for more.
Voice slightly muffled by his fingers, “Fuck- Satoru, keep going. Hngh- I’m gonna cum!” 
The way your walls desperately try to fuck his tongue has his cock straining so painfully against his trousers. Satoru increases his abuse on your cunt mercilessly, the harsh pace making you squeal and buck into his face. Your juices are now all over his mouth, gushing around his tongue. In and out in and out in and out-
“Satoru!”
You cum hard - all over Satoru’s pretty face.
Now, Satoru loves when you run your mouth and infuriate him, but he might just love it even more when you’re falling apart and speechless under his touch. 
Riding out your high on his features, you can feel yourself quivering around his tongue as he laps up your juices as if it were a delicacy. Deep moans leaving his mouth and vibrating across your soaked cunt, making you jolt at the overstimulation.
Pulling back, Satoru admires your unfocused eyes and bruised lips. “For someone that so fucking despises me, your slutty pussy sure is sucking me in so desperately.” he murmurs, slightly out of breath after what just transpired. 
“Sh-shut up.”
Ah, if only he got to see this view more often. 
You can’t help but feel the same way. Seeing Satoru fucked out, vibrant eyes half-lidded and blown out, your slick prettily glossing all over his mouth and nose. A small voice in the back of your mind wishes he was more like this and not whatever he is when he’s getting on your nerves.
“ONE MORE MINUTE! Finish up whatever devil’s tango or death match y’all are having in there!”
Those troublesome thoughts are pushed out of your mind as soon as you hear Shoko call from outside.
The bubble is broken. Jumping apart as far as possible in the cramped closet, you press yourself into the closet wall as you two wordlessly rush to make yourselves slightly more presentable. The air, once charged with overflowing tension and sex, now so strained.
Bending down to feel for the panties that Satoru- no, Gojo had thrown god-knows-where, your hands graze his - still slightly wet with your spit. Snatching your hands back as if it burned, you make out Gojo’s figure pocketing something.
Your panties??
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” you hiss, face burning at both his actions and the idea of going outside without panties.
“Just think of it as repayment for the fun.” he hums, mirth spilling into his tone. And before you could snap at his antics, Shoko is ripping the door open and looking around the closet for what you can only assume to be missing body parts and blood.
“Aw, man. And here I was thinking Satoru would be six feet under by now.” she groans, walking off disappointedly - for which you were eternally grateful otherwise she’d have seen the few suspicious stains on the floor.
“Remember, you owe me twenty, Shoko.” Geto speaks up from the circle. Were they…betting on whether you and Gojo would kill each other in there?
Finally stepping out of that godforsaken closet, you catch the smirks and raised eyebrows from some of the people from the group.
Meeting Gojo’s eye, a smirk curls around his swollen lip as he swipes a thumb across it. Agonizingly slow. Teasing. 
Your cheeks flare, something pooling in your stomach. Ugh, this is why you hate frat parties.
“You alright, man? You look…flushed?” you hear Geto question, pointedly staring at Satoru’s slightly disheveled look.
It was all getting too much - the alcohol in the air, the thumping of the overplayed pop music, and him. You felt so lightheaded. Ripping your gaze from Gojo’s you leave without so much as a goodbye to him, only stopping for a reassuring nod at Haibara. You make a beeline for the exit, dashing out of there and down the winding staircase as fast as you could. 
Focused on navigating the packed party, you almost don’t register Gojo rushing after you. Ignoring whatever words were tumbling out of Gojo’s mouth, you silently thank the sorority that had just pulled up - clinging onto him in greeting, making it impossible to follow after you. 
The cool night air washes over you as you finally step outside. You sigh in relief as you leave the chaotic sounds of the party - and him - behind. 
Impatiently waiting for your friend on the way to pick you up, only two thoughts echo in your mind.
He actually only needed two minutes.
What the fuck?
Meanwhile, back in that heady room, Shoko nudges Suguru, the latter still watching in amusement where Satoru had run after you in the door. “Hm?” he asks, absent-mindedly.
“Why do most of these papers have Satoru’s name?”
---
You pass through the next morning in a daze. The hardest part was probably trying to get dressed without making eye contact with the purple finger marks on your hips that Sato- Gojo had left to remember him by.
You still can’t believe that happened. 
It’s alright, it was just a mistake in the heat of the moment - you just have to forget it ever happened, right? But that’s easier said than done when your last class of the day is Advanced Quantum Physics.
Cursing your timetable, you step through the crowded campus. You pull your sweater tighter around yourself, the fabric doing nothing to stop your skin searing where Gojo’s lips had been just last night.
Alright, you just had to get through this one class today. There’s a lot of people in Professor Yaga’s class - it’s not like you’ll necessarily see that bane of your existence-
“Yooo prez, fate just seems to bring us together hmm?” 
Gojo almost topples out of his chair, waving in your direction. As your eyes sweep across the room, you can feel your heart sinking. Shit, you really feel like you’re being Punk’d right now. 
Cursing whoever was up there for this cruel joke, you make your way to the desk beside Satoru’s - the only empty one. 
Slumping down onto the chair with a frustrated huff, you sink into yourself - eyes trained firmly forward and ignoring the playful grin in your peripheral vision.
To your surprise, Gojo doesn’t say a word throughout the lecture. Not a single comment about fucking any professor’s wife - or your cunt. Huh, did last night cause some type of qi deviation or something?
As Professor Yaga drones on about quantum entanglement, you find the words going in one ear and out the other, too focused on wondering what Gojo’s game was.
It’s only towards the end of the lecture, at the introduction of some new assignment that you find yourself finally letting your guard down. Okay, see, it wasn’t too bad. Now time to go back to your apartment and study whatever quantum entanglement was for the next five hours.
“Ah- And remember, the midterm assignment pairings are posted on Canvas.” 
What was that?
God, you hated working with other people. It was much more efficient for you to stay in and finish this paper in one sitting.
“So, partner~ My place or yours?”
What?
The bell rings, its metallic chime resonating in your mind almost as loud as Gojo’s words. Signaling the end of class - and probably the end of your sanity. 
You wish the ground would swallow you up at this very moment. These days have really not been your days.
---
“Literally what do you bring to the table?”
“Comedic relief and my undeniably good looks.”
“...”
“...and also the case study and background information.”
The air at the stuffy café just off-campus was a mixture of freshly ground coffee and hushed conversations - of course, occasionally disrupted by the chaotic debates that erupted from your little booth.
Not too long ago, as everyone moved to file out of the classroom, you were frozen, glaring at your open laptop so intensely you half-expected it to combust - scrutinizing the neat arrangement of Gojo’s name next to your own over a million times.  
Finally sighing in defeat, you nodded in surrender at Gojo - who was whooping in victory. But, you were still adamant on meeting somewhere in public. The last time you two were left alone ended up…interesting. 
“Then you do that and I’ll take care of the rest of the theoretical analysis and evaluation. Okay, sounds good, Gojo.” you deadpan, rubbing the sides of your forehead in frustration. 
“Ouch, no Satoru?”
Ignoring his comment, you promptly slam your laptop closed, gathering your things with a determined sigh. Ready to escape the stifling atmosphere of the cafe. “So you do that and put it on the doc, and I’ll do the same with my parts. See ya.”
That’s when you feel a large hand covering yours - the same one from- “Hey there now, hardass, stay a little longer - gotta make sure you don’t slander quantum entanglement in our essay the same way you do with the Pilot-Wave theory.” Gojo interrupts your intrusive train of thought. 
“What? Unlike you, I don’t slander any scientific theories. Although, I do think the idea of entangled particles jumping around like you do is hardly the hallmark of a stable scientific theory.” you retort, face burning but setting down your bag nonetheless.
Resting his face on his hands, he grins at you. “Oh yeah? I think stability is overrated, prez. Quantum entanglement challenges you because it’s a realm where your precious stability crumbles in the face of non-local correlations.”
God, was he glad he begged on his knees to Yaga to pair you two together. He was having way too much fun with this. 
“Just because particles can communicate faster than you can comprehend doesn't mean we should abandon reason.” you raise a brow. 
“Well, I think you should just embrace the uncertainty, sweetheart. Life is a game of chance, just like quantum entanglement.”
“Oh, really?” you drone out, sarcastically. 
“Yeah, think about it. For instance, I never thought I’d still be alive and breathing after last night. But here I am.” at your stunned silence, he continues. “I for sure thought you’d have the coffin ready as soon as I kissed y-”
You panickedly place your hands over his mouth to shut him up, those blue eyes twinkle in amusement. “When I said you had a big mouth I really wasn’t lying, huh.” 
Slowly removing your hands once it seemed like Gojo wouldn’t spill your endeavors in this family-friendly cafe, you sigh, “Okay- We’ll get some shit done today, alright. But this is the last time I’m meeting with you for this.”
“Mhm~ You got it, prez.”
It was not the last time you met with Gojo for this. 
Nor was it the second-last.
Or the third-last. 
Each and every time you two worked together on the assignment, you’d spend more time bickering about anything ranging from what you’d learned in Professor Yaga’s class that day to whether the old lady who frequented the café was a part of the mafia. 
“I’m telling you, she handles those knitting needles like they’re a weapon.”
“Mhm and she sips her Earl Grey like she’s plotting espionage. Now, get to work before I use my teaspoon as a weapon.”
“I’d rather investigate her than this damn Qiskit simulation.”
“Sure, Gojo. I’ll add her to our list of groundbreaking research projects.”
“Don’t come crying to me when I rub it in your face once we see her on the news as a mafia queenpin, prez.”
You’re pretty sure the café employees have a love-hate relationship with you and Gojo - too lively to be one of their favorite regulars, but arguments too amusing to kick you two out. 
And as for your relationship with Gojo…well. It’s not as if you can’t go 7 minutes without being somewhat civil, and yet that’s exactly the issue, isn’t it?
After what had happened that night, it feels as if there’s something charging the air whenever you two are together.
You chalk it up to just lingering tension, but that still doesn’t explain the way Gojo’s eyes hold a warm twinkle whenever he looks at you - gaze a little too warm than you’d expect a rival to have. But it’s fine, you just have to ace this assignment and then this strange dynamic can go back to normal.
It’s only towards the end of your assignment that you realize how wrong you really were.
---
Out of breath and darting across campus towards where you knew Gojo was waiting, you half-wish you joined the track team instead of the student government. Damn student reps, can’t keep proper archives.
As much as you got a kick out of getting on Gojo’s nerves, you hated to keep anyone waiting.
“Ah! Prez! Was heartbroken thinking you’d stood me up, y’know?” Satoru calls once he spots you bolting towards him on that dimly-lit pathway. Wow, maybe you should’ve joined the track team.
You trip. Ah, maybe not.
Feet automatically hastening your way, he catches you. Well, more like you fall into his arms.
“Just in time, huh?” he chuckles, thankful for the sun dipping below the horizon - otherwise you’d surely have caught the rosy flush tinting his cheeks. Arms wrapped around your waist and supporting your waist, Satoru almost coos at the surprised look gracing your face. You always did something to his heart.
Hastily distancing himself from you once you stand on your own, he rambles - anything to drown out the banging of his heart against his chest. “So, I’m assuming you were out there doing all your president-ly duties?” 
“Ah! Yes, I’m so sorry, the meeting ran overtime and-” 
Listening to you rant, Satoru thinks that he wouldn’t want to be anywhere but here - bickering with you. He’s only snapped out his reverie at your disappointed groan. Oh, what was this? He didn’t even realize his feet had carried him to the little café already. 
Ripping his eyes from you, he turns to what moping at. A sign with red writing is plastered over the very locked café entrance - Sorry! Staff training today, hope to see you tomorrow!
“Seems like everyone’s got meetings today.” he hears you grumble. Satoru knows it isn’t right, but his heart leaps slightly at the chance to get to know you outside of that familiar cafe.
You, meanwhile, felt tension - and something else - pooling in your stomach. Shit, if the sanctuary of your café is no longer available…
“Well, we could just go home and finish off the paper by ourselves. It’s only the last bit anyway.” you suggest, voice slightly shaky at the idea and anticipation of actually being alone with Gojo after so long. 
“But Suguru’s such a loud snorer, I’d never get any work done.” Gojo whines. Well, there goes that plan.
“The library?”
“I hear it’s haunted this time of year.” he answers right away. 
“Ghosts are seasonal?” you ask absent-mindedly, too focused on weighing between the need to finish this assignment today and the uncertainty of what would happen between you and Gojo.
A tense silence fills the slowly darkening street as you go through all your options. Finally, watching the long shadows casted now, you sigh. “Fine. We’ll go to my place.” you mutter out. 
“Would you get angry if I celebrated right now?”
“Maybe.”
The walk to your apartment is bathed in the soft orange glow of the setting sun. It was almost peaceful - if it weren’t for Gojo’s excited chattering about god-knows-what. 
Your mind was running a million miles a minute. Was something like last time going to happen? Were you a lecher for expecting it? Why didn’t you mind the thought as much as you think you should?
You risk a glance at Satoru, who was in the middle of a passionate speech about how ketchup was a valid condiment on pasta. Soft sunlight paints his hair an amber hue, casting warm shadows that bring out his pretty features, eyes sparkling with passion and mischief. He was beautiful.
Wait. Beautiful?
“Hey isn’t this your apartment building or is walking past it a pre-entrance ritual?” 
Ah. Whoops.
You snap out of those ridiculous notions, gathering whatever dignity you have left to walk back to the apartment complex you’d left in the dust while wrapped up in your thoughts.
“Oooo, didn’t take you for much of a decorator, hardass.” Gojo comments, flitting about your cozy apartment to look at all the little knick-knacks and pictures 
“Did you really think I lived in some sterile lab?” you retort. Gojo’s almost-endearing curiosity amuses you enough to let go of the electricity thrumming through your body at having him so close. In your home. 
“Well, I expected more beakers and fewer fairy lights, sweetheart.”
You roll your eyes, pretending to be offended. “Believe it or not, Gojo, hardasses can have a sense of style, too.”
He continues his exploration, stopping in front of a photo on the wall. “Who’s this model?” he grins, pointing at a picture of you in stuffy formal attire at some conference.
You sigh, knowing exactly which photo he's referring to. “That, Gojo, is me at a conference presenting a groundbreaking research paper.”
“Groundbreaking, huh? Is that what they call it these days?” he hums, arching an eyebrow playfully. 
“Yes, and six feet under is what they’ll be calling you if you don’t get your ass here and finish this paper.”
“...yes, prez.”
Writing the conclusion and inserting citations is always the fun part. If you could write an essay on whatever you want, it would be only conclusions and citations, you think.
After a few hours of working on your paper, apparently Gojo does not feel the same way.
“Fuck Noodletools. All my homies hate Noodletools.”
“This is why you only have two friends, Gojo.”
“Hey! I’m a very likable person, y’know.” 
“...”
He sets his laptop down leaning closer to you over where he was seated opposite you on the coffee table, clearly bored of citations for the time being. “Also, aren’t we friends, sweetheart? Technically I have three.”
You raise a brow, this was the first time Satoru had ever addressed the strange dynamic you two had. “Are we?” you ask, genuinely. 
A deafening silence envelopes your living room. This was the first time you’d seen such a serious expression take over Gojo’s face as he answers, voice even, “I’m not sure.”
The atmosphere thickens with a charged tension, the weight of Gojo’s words lingering in the room. A spark flickers in his eyes. You feel like you could almost get whiplash from the contrast between the heated banter to where you two were now. Was it always so hot in this room?
You let out a strained laugh, attempting to diffuse the seriousness and go back to a trivial territory you were more familiar with. “I never thought the great Gojo Satoru would be uncertain about something.” Your eyes flicker unwillingly from his intense gaze to his worry-bitten lips.
The mischief returning to his gleaming eyes, he smirks “Uncertainty can be thrilling, don't you think, sweetheart?”
You don’t even know what to say to that - and you don’t have to. Because before you can respond, Gojo swiftly leans over the coffee table - catching your lips in a sudden, electrifying kiss. 
Time stands still. A shiver runs down your spine as you realize that you didn’t want to push him away. At all. In fact, you grab a fistful of his soft locks, pulling him impossibly deeper into the kiss. 
Pulling away mere millimeters, Gojo’s hot breath fanning your mouth as he whispers, “Told you the uncertainty is thrilling, sweetheart.”
“Shut up and kiss me.” you grumble, irritated because his lips ghosting yours was not enough.
Before you know it, Gojo has you pinned against the plush couch. His lips finding your, the kiss deepening as he yearns for that desperate connection - as if each breath depends on smothering you with dizzying kisses. 
The room seems to shrink, right now only filled with the heated exchange of breaths and the feeling of Satoru’s lips searing into yours. 
You think he tastes like caramel and uncertainty - yet, this time, you fall into the unknown with open arms. Wrapping your legs around his toned waist, your arms around his broad shoulders - bringing him to you so close you’d think the laws of physics were taking a coffee break.
It almost hurt. 
The intensity of the moment only growing, the atmosphere in your homey apartment crackles with a tension that you knew in the back of your mind had been building for so long - ever since that party.
Your heartbeat echoes in your ears. You knew this would happen.
And a part of you needed it to.
His fingers trace a path along your jawline, leaving a trail of heat - you shudder, craving for more. 
“Gojo, I want you.” you breathe out, words muffled by Satoru sucking sinfully on your lips. 
He pulls away slightly, delicate strings of saliva still connecting him to you. Every fiber of his being resisting to part.
“Don’t call me that.” he purrs out, the intensity of his half-lidded stare sending a jolt straight down to your heated core. “It’s Satoru when we’re fucking, remember?”
Looking into his sultry eyes, for the first time ever you decide to heed what Satoru says. “S-Satoru, please.” you whimper, hips bucking up to meet his own. You can feel the large outline of his achingly hard cock straining against those stupidly overpriced trousers, pussy quivering in anticipation. 
Now, there have been three times in his life that Satoru thinks he has died and gone to heaven. The first being when he discovered that the ramen joint by his dorm also had free Wi-Fi. Second, that first day in Advanced Quantum Physics when you snapped at him told him to shut the fuck up. 
And finally, right now, as he’s got you needy and squirming underneath him - such pretty gasps of his name leaving your kiss-bitten lips. 
God, navigating quantum physics is a walk in the park in comparison to what you put his heart through. 
“Hmm, never in my life thought I’d see his view, sweetheart.” he whispers lowly into your ear, delighting in the goosebumps that erupt along your alluring body. How did he get so lucky?
Hastily pulling down your shorts, his mouth waters at your wet panties. Another prize for him, hm? Throwing them along with your panties to god-knows-where, Satoru drinks in the sight of your bare pussy - a privilege that he didn’t get in that godforsaken closet. 
Ah, so ready and dripping for him already. Your slick glistens out of your heated entrance as you clench around nothing. “Aww, they’ve faded.” he whines, heart lurching at the lack of his marks from last time.
It’s alright, he can just make more.
Not one to waste time, with a bruising grip holding your hips steady, Satoru grinds his painfully hard cock into your needy cunt, savoring the pretty mewls that leave your mouth. The way your swollen pussy quivers against him makes him throw his head back, seeing stars already. 
Nipping along your neck, leaving marks he knows you’ll have to cover up tomorrow. “Sit on m’face,” he murmurs into your skin.
“W-what?”
Pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses along the valley of your breasts, Satoru breathes you in. Fuck, he prefers the smell of your skin to any scent in the world. “Sit- on- my- face.” he repeats, words punctuated with erotic kisses to your hardened nipples, tongue flicking them through the fabric of your clothes. 
“You’re gonna be the death of me, y’know?” you gasp. Yet, still shifting on that cramped couch. Why do you two always fuck in the most inconvenient places?
Satoru’s legs hang off the end of your couch as he lays on his back, you’d almost find the position funny - if it weren’t for you straddling his head. 
His hot breath on your wet cunt sends waves of electricity though your entire body as you hover over his mouth. Your needy pussy right above where his mouth is, hesitating. Your slick oozes slowly through your swollen folds - drip! drip! drip! onto his awaiting tongue, brows furrowing and eyes rolling to the back of his head at your sweet juices.
“Mhm, and I hope that you’ll be the death of me.” he hums, tongue savoring your taste.
It’s the last thing said before Satoru surges forward, plunging mouth-first into your heated cunt. 
Despite not being on a time crunch this time, Satoru doesn’t waste a moment teasing - he already has you splayed out and aching for him, what more could he want?
He bullies his tongue into your snug cunt, pushing past the first ring of muscle. You twitch around him, sweet moans spilling incessantly from your mouth. “Ah! Hngh- Satoru! Fuck s’good.”
Your sounds of pleasure going straight to his dick, he bucks into your hands. Ah, more. He needs your touch more. 
The feeling of your plush walls clamping down on him only spurs him on further, fucking you at a ruthless pace. One hand gropes across your body, resting a thumb on your clit that rubs tight circles, making you grind down further into his mouth. 
“Your pussy is so honest, sweetheart. She wants me so badly.” he murmurs, voice sending vibrations that make you let out a loud moan which he suspects your neighbors would be complaining about. 
You were so perfect for him, Satoru thinks he might go insane.
You were definitely going insane.
Satoru shows no mercy, his abuse on your dripping cunt only speeding up at every buck of your hips into his tongue. It felt so fucking good. 
Closing your eyes, his pressure on your core has you seeing spots behind your vision. You could feel the curl of his signature smirk against your folds as your pussy tries sucking him back in at every thrust. Too good to let him go. “Knew you loved this ‘big mouth’, hardass.” he murmurs. 
Shit, you can’t be the only one acting so needy like this.
“What’re you doing, sweetheart?” Satoru drawls, voice muffled by your cunt as he feels the breeze of his lower abdomen hitting the heady air of your living room.
“Payback.” is all you mutter out as you fumble his trousers down his long legs. Curse these gyms. Curse squats. Why did he have to be so perfectly sculpted? An Adonis in his true form. 
You can feel the saliva pooling in your mouth as his boxers come into view - rock-hard cock straining painfully against it A patch of pre-cum pools at his head - he wanted you just as badly as you wanted him. Hands shaky from the way Satoru’s incessant tongue was fucking into you, you shuffle his boxers down. 
Satoru’s painfully hard erection springs out, hitting his lower abs. Fuck- how the hell were you supposed to take him? Life was really unfortunate - water was wet, and Gojo Satoru has a huge dick.
“S-sweetheart, you don’t have to-” he murmurs against your swollen pussy. 
From all your times shutting up Gojo Satoru, this one might just be your favorite. 
His words catch desperately in his throat as you spit out a pool of saliva onto Satoru’s furiously flushed head. A low hiss leaving him as you teasingly lick his sensitive slit. 
Never one to back down from a challenge, Satoru attaches his lips with yours once more. He groans lowly into you, the stimulation making you yelp in surprise. 
“So, it’s like that, huh?” 
Satoru doesn’t have the time to ponder your words before you take in as much of his length as you can in one go. “Ah! Hah- Oh fuck, prez. Always knew you were a forceful woman.”
You moan at the slightly salty taste of his precum. Gagging around him, drool drips down the corner of your mouth as you try to take him in inch by fucking inch. It was so fucking messy.
Diving nose-deep in your cunt once again, Satoru continues the merciless pace of his tongue once more. Both your muffled moans fill the heated room, lost in the pleasure and the heat of the moment.
Shit, you knew by the way your walls clenched down on his tongue that you weren’t gonna last long. And judging by the urgent twitching of Satoru’s cock - he wasn’t going to either. 
He fucks up his throbbing erection into your mouth, your eyes watering as his tip hits the back of your throat. Ropes of spit and precum decorate your lips. Even the staunch part of you that never backs down for anyone cheers at being so used. It’s so fucking debauched.
Your hand moves down to massage his heavy balls, tugging and pulling at a rhythm that matches the rapid ministrations of his thumb on your swollen clit.
Mind spinning and pleasure dizzyingly overwhelming as you both lean closer and closer to your highs. With a final mewl around his thick cock, your juices are gushing all around Satoru’s mouth. 
Your mind blanks as you cum, the only things registering being the tingles of your oversensitive pussy as Satoru rides you through your high on his tongue and the taste of Satoru as he cums in hot spurts in your mouth. Salty, with a hint of sweet - the flavor making your pussy twitch.
Fucking his seed into you, your mouth milks his cock. His cum dribbling down the corner of your mouth, all thoughts of dirtying your couch go out your brain when you hear the fucked out whines at the back of Satoru’s throat.
Fuck a refractory period, you wanted to hear that more.
You remove yourself from him with a lewd pop! Cum flowing smoothly down your throat, you lock eyes with Satoru over your shoulder. His jaw drops, pupils blown lustfully as your tongue sticks out - showing the way you’ve swallowed every single drop of his seed.
“Now, Satoru. I need you to fuck me with yours cock just as you did with your tongue.” your words still strained from your orgasm.
Wordlessly, Satoru nods, eyes shining - still reeling from the sinful sight of your bruised lips glossy with his cum - his cum that you swallowed as if it was a delicacy.
Meanwhile you were thinking that you should fuck Satoru more if it meant you got him to shut up and be pretty more often. 
Slightly more clear-headed now, just as lustful. 
Your couch creaks in protest as you shift positions to face Satoru once more. He seizes your lips in a passionate kiss, mouth attacking yours with a desperation for your essence.
Your head spins as you taste yourselves on each other, words tumbling out of your mouth in the haze, “Satoru, bed- now.”
But when has he not challenged you?
“Mhm, anything you say, prez.” he whispers raspily against your lips, still-hard cock teasingly dragging along your swollen folds. 
“Satoru.”
“Fuck yes. Say m’name, sweetheart.” he groans out, throwing his head back against the armrest. Your slick pools all over Satoru’s thick head, dripping sensually down his length to where he gripped tightly at the base. 
Swollen lips dropping into a small “oh”, he slides a ringed hand up his member, spreading your juices. Cock twitching carnally at the way your pussy was leaking all over him, he grits out, “Need to feel you around my cock now, sweetheart.”
So he does.
Thick head pressing into your tight entrance, a low growl leaves his throat at how sinfully tight you were. Fuck, he could just about pass out right now.
“S’tight, sweetheart. So good.” he fucks up into you in shallow, uncontrollable movements of his hips - impatience quickly waning. You yelp at each thrust, walls burning with the stretch of Satoru’s thick head. 
You try to steady yourself as Satoru’s thrusts get deeper and deeper, nails digging harshly into his muscled shoulders. In the midst of it all you still manage to impatiently slur out, “I-if you’re gonna fuck me then hah- fuck me like you mean it, Satoru.”
Oh, that did it.
Your words make the last bit of sanity Satoru had left snap. 
In a swift movement, he sheaths his throbbing erection in your wet cunt completely. A gasp gets caught in his throat at the way your walls were clamping down on him in surprise. 
He looks up at you, eyes half-lidded and a dangerously predatory glint in them that sends shivers down your spine. “Fuck me like I mean it, huh? You’re quite bossy, y’know that, prez?”
Before you can retort - and probably dig your grave deeper - he stands up in one fluid motion, your legs around his waist and cock still buried deep in your snug pussy. You moan at the change in angle, his tip now kissing your cervix so deliciously painfully. Shit, you feel so full. 
Hands moving down to grope your ass firmly and support your weight, he grins lowly in your ear, “You’re lucky I love that part of you.”
The wall is cold as Satoru shoves your back against it. his body making the air leave your lungs as he presses into yours, ramming into you at a merciless pace. Your tight cunt clenches so tightly around him, as if to prevent him from leaving. 
Each thrust into your warm core has his eyes rolling to the back of his head, brows furrowing in ecstasy. His lips capture yours once again in a rough dance that matches the cadence of his hips.
You mewl against his mouth at the feeling of his heavy balls stinging your skin as they smack your ass. The power behind each harsh thrust has you bouncing against the wall, legs pulling tighter around his toned waist to bully his cock impossibly deeper in you. 
“Where- fuck! Where’s the bed?” he moans breathlessly against your lips, voice sounding as if each thrust of his pulsing cock into your plush walls sends him spiraling deeper into insanity.
“Down- down the hallway. Hngh- fuck, Satoru!” you not far behind.
Your mind is foggy, barely even registering as Satoru moves blindly towards your bedroom with powerful strides - not yet pulling out of you.
He doesn’t get very far before he’s got you sprawled over your bedroom floor, your carpet digging into you as his cock slams into your abused cunt with that feral pace he loves so much. Not even making it to the bed.
“Ah! Hah- Satoru, what happened to the bed?” you sputter out in-between uncontrollable moans. 
“Too far. Hngh- need you now.” he answers around your breasts, teasing and tweaking your sensitive nipples.
“Wh-who’s irresistible now?” you manage to smirk, relishing in the huff of laughter that escapes him. Even now, you always did manage to one-up him.
“Mhm, you’ve always been irresistible, sweetheart.” he mutters, moving to press a chaste kiss against your forehead, not sure whether the words were even meant for you to hear. 
And you know it’s just pussy-drunk talk, but right now you can’t help the way your cheeks heat up, heartbeat ringing in your ears. 
Not sure how to respond to that, you pull him closer to you, allowing him to bury his burning face in the crook of your neck. Maybe right now neither of you needed to speak, your bodies doing enough talking as Satoru continues his relentless cadence.
Your hips bucking up to meet his, you whimper in pleasure and overstimulation into the heady room as Satoru moves down a hand to draw rough, little circles over and over your throbbing clit. It was all too much. “S-Satoru.”
“Me too, my sweetheart. Me too.” is all he gasps out, teeth digging into your neck at the pleasure overwhelming his sensitive cock. Satoru’s tight balls twitch as they smack your ass, cock glistening with cum and slick. He sees stars behind his eyes - or maybe those were tears at the overstimulation. He really doesn’t know anymore. 
Head spinning and thoughts racing with only Satoru Satoru Satoru, you’re very much in the same state. 
“Satoru?” you whine out, tears clinging to your lashes.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
You pull him into an intense kiss, pussy clamping down on him desperately as his lips brand yours - it sends you both over the edge. 
Satoru thinks he sees heaven as he cums, and you were probably an angel. 
Hot ropes of his thick cum paint your walls white, cunt quivering around him as you both ride out your climaxes together. A creamy ring forms around his base as he fucks his seed into you desperately, marking you so obviously as his. All thoughts of Plan B run out of your mind at the overstimulated whimpers leaving Satoru’s ruby lips.
His dick twitches inside you as his unforgiving thrusts slow down to shallow grinds of his hips, nothing more than to keep his cum inside of you as your highs bate.
Body collapsing onto yours, careful to not crush you with his weight, Satoru pulls you closer to him. And despite everything that happened this evening, he thinks that this might be what makes his ears burn red the most. Your body so vulnerably connected with his own. Just the two of you in this quiet world.
The silence feels intimate and fragile. Brain still hazy from your orgasms, you don’t think you’ve ever quite looked at your bedroom ceiling from his angle. 
Strangely enough, Satoru’s warm weight on you feels comforting. Neither of you speak now. Nor do you speak when Satoru carries you to bed, searching through your clothes for a washcloth he can wipe you clean with. 
It’s only when he lingers at the foot of your bed - uncertain - that the silence is broken. “Get in, stupid.” you scoff, opening the covers invitingly.
Of course, an elated smile overtaking his face, Satoru jumps in your bed with enough force to send you both bouncing. It was childish. It was so ridiculous. It had you barking out a surprised laugh at his antics.
In your joy, you don’t even realize that Satoru has stopped moving - frozen, smile slipping off his face and staring at you with an unknown spark in his eyes. 
“What?” you question, feeling strangely self-conscious. 
White locks tousling as he shakes his head, he breathes, “It’s the first time I’ve made you laugh.” The words hang in the delicate atmosphere, tension so thick you think it could snap any moment.
You hide your face in your hands, palms clammy. “You- you make me sound like some sort of evil witch.” you stammer out, embarrassment pooling in your gut. The tension in the air dissipates, yet the intensity in Satoru’s gaze remains.
Satoru understands, smiling blindingly. He pulls your naked body to his, wrapping his arms tenderly around your waist as you both bury into the covers. “Well, more of a hardass than an evil witch.”
“Satoru?”
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“You still have to finish your citations.”
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A/N. Can be read as a standalone BUT part 2 planned for next longfic Sunday!
Plagiarism not authorized.
14K notes · View notes
ickadori · 6 months
Text
++ 𝐘𝐔𝐉𝐈/𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀
[summary] during a playful fight between you and yuji, sukuna decides to make an appearance and air out yuji’s dirty secrets.
[cws] fem reader. dubcon. lewd use of sukuna’s tummy mouth. exhibitionism -> you’re in public but no one is around. one mention of a misogynist comment from sukuna. yuji thinks about you a lot. unedited.
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“Do you …hah, do you give up yet?” Yuji pants as he has you pinned underneath him, sweat dripping off the ends of his hair and landing on your forehead.
You’d cringe and shrink away if you weren’t so determined to win this mock fight (never mind that you were drenched in your own sweat, as well).
“Absolutely not.” You grit out, hips futilely bucking up to try and get him off you. He barely budges, even having the nerve to laugh as he watches you struggle. You can hear Nobara booing quite enthusiastically, while Megumi grumbles about being late for class and having to hear ‘Gojo’s annoying mouth’.
“Ya know you’re not gonna win, so just give up already and agree to hosting movie night in my dorm this time!”
“Never! No one wants to stare at pin-up posters all night, plus your tv is too small, and your bed always smells like Doritos, and—”
“Geez, just say you hate me, why don’t you.” He rolls his eyes, going to sit back on his haunches as he stays straddling your waist. You kiss at your teeth, trying once more to buck him up while simultaneously bringing your hands up and shoving at his stomach. “And my bed does not smell like Doritos! Does it?” He snaps his head over to look at Nobara and Megumi.
“The cool ranch ones.” Nobara says, and Megumi nods in agreement. “Aka, the nastiest flavor.” Yuji gasps dramatically.
“That’s the best flavor! How dare you…” As he bickers back and forth with Nobara, you focus a little cursed energy into your hands. “…says the girl who eats pickles with whipped cream like she’s pregnant or someth—!”
In the blink of an eye you’ve got Yuji on his back as you straddle his stomach, a triumphant grin on your face as you keep your hands on his shoulders to keep him pinned flat against the ground. “Aha!”
“That’s cheating!” Yuji frowns up at you.
“No, it isn’t! It’s called strategizing.”
“Cheating!”
“I’m going to class.” Megumi begins to walk off, hands stuffed in his pockets, and you shout after him.
“Movie night is in my dorm!”
“Hey!” Yuji interrupts.
“Bring good snacks only!” You finish, and then Nobara is the next to go, jogging to catch up with Megumi as she flashes the both of you an amused grin.
“Cheater.” Yuji grumbles once it’s just you two, and you snicker as you let go of his shoulders and sit up, not bothering to stand up just yet. “Using cursed energy against your friend… you should be ashamed.”
“You literally threw a spear at me yesterday and it almost killed me.”
“That’s different! We were training, and I didn’t mean to throw it that hard.” His expression turned sheepish as he avoided your eyes, and you pursed your lips as you tapped his nose with the pad of your index finger. He wriggled it in response, and you softly laughed as you did it again.
“It’s fine, just know that you had it coming when I try to kill you in the future, mkay?” He blinks up at you.
“You’re creepy, you know that?”
“Says the boy with a third eyeball on his cheek.” This time you do cringe, watching as the red eye blinks open before settling on you.
“Wha—Sukuna!” Yuji snaps, hand moving to slap over the eye and cover it. “You should probably go now before he fully wakes up … you know how he is.” A pink hue bleeds into Yuji’s cheeks as he averts his eyes, and you feel your own face warm as you nod.
“Yeah,” you agree. Sukuna had always been insufferable from the moment you befriended Yuji, always piping up with mean, critiquing comments that bordered on being cruel. The comments had started with him bashing your fighting skills during your trainings with Yuji, quips of ‘you’re so slow - it’s a wonder you aren’t dead yet’, or ‘women on the battlefield is a bad fucking joke - hasn’t anyone ever taught you your place’, or ones that had left you teary-eyed and which you refuse to repeat.
Yeah, Sukuna was an asshole, which wasn’t a surprise to anyone, and you’d rather not have your day ruined before you even made it to your first class.
“I’ll see you tonight, Yuji.” You place your hands on his chest, about to use him to push yourself up to your feet, but a low, raspy voice has you stopping in your tracks.
“You’re sitting on my mouth.” Sukuna abruptly says, and you blink in confusion, your eyes flitting between Yuji’s and where you’re sitting.
“What?”
“Y-You should go now,” Yuji tries, but Sukuna is talking again and drowning him out.
“Your pussy, that hot thing between your legs, it’s on my mouth. See?” Something moves underneath you, and you flinch at the sound of fabric tearing before a yelp is leaving your mouth when something thick, damp and warm is pushing up between your legs and pressing against your clothed cunt. “You should be careful where you put that thing, y’know.”
He talks through the mouth on Yuji’s hand, and your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt as Sukuna swipes his tongue against you again, his saliva wetting the fabric of your underwear.
“Sukuna, st—”
“Sit back and shut up.” Yuji falls silent in an instant, and a wave of panic washes over you when you see his eyes gloss over and his head fall back against the grass, black markings etching their way onto his face. A grin stretches across his face, and hands move to lock around your hips, fingers pushing into your flesh as he makes sure you can’t go anywhere. “That’s better.”
“Y-Yuji?” You sound breathless, and you gasp when his tongue worms its way past your panties to swipe in-between your folds. “Yuji!”
“Relax,” he rolls his eyes, “the brat is still here. Watching and listening, he’s not gonna miss a thing, don’t you worry.” You don’t know if that’s worse or better—Yuji being aware of what’s happening, being able to see your face contort each time that tongue flicks at your clit, being able to hear the noises you try and fail to subdue.
“Stop,” your voice sounds weak to your own ears, and Sukuna guffaws, tongue forcing its way up into your cunt, the action eliciting a lewd squelch as he rubs against your walls.
“Stop.” He parrots back at you, hands tightening around your hips, and you duck your head down when his tongue leaves your hole to instead focus its attention back on your clit. “I don’t know what the brat gets all worked up about—yeah, you’ve got a sweet pussy and a nice pair of tits, but you’re a real fuckin’ tease. Rolling around with a boy in that flimsy little skirt and grinding your cunt up against him. Tch.”
“I wasn—Sukuna!” You jump when his teeth graze against your folds, the thought of him possibly biting you making a shiver of fear run up your spine.
“He wants to fuck you.” He couples the reveal with a harsh suck. “Fuck this cunt that I’m tonguing down - the pervert can’t go five minutes in a room with you without thinking about it.” Your ears burn as a fresh wave of slick rushes out of you, thighs trembling where they rest around his thick waist. “He’s too worried about scaring you off to do anything about it, though… but I don’t think he has anything to worry about, does he? Look at you.”
A whimper leaves your mouth, and you quickly sink your teeth into your bottom lip, not succeeding in blocking out the slurping, tacky sounds coming from between your legs. You want to stand up, get his mouth away from you so you can think straight, because your mind is all jumbled and fuzzy and screwy, and his words, his crude words that always made your skin hot and your stomach churn, is making it churn for another reason now.
“Won’t you give him a show, hm?” You barely register his words, and you yelp when his hand makes contact with your ass, fingers kneading at the doughy flesh as he repeats his earlier words. “Take your tits out.”
“No,” you warble, your hands weakly pushing at his wrists, a poor attempt to get him to stop moving your hips back and forth, forcing your cunt to side back and forth over his flattened tongue. “Sukuna, please.”
“Take ‘em out yourself, or I’ll do it for you and leave you to walk back to your dorm with nothing on.” You hesitate, eyes wet as you nervously lick at your lips, and when he makes a move for your shirt, you quickly begin to undo the buttons, fingers clumsy as they fumble repeatedly. “Good pet.”
Your blouse falls open as you undo the last button, revealing the pink bra you have on underneath, and you squeeze your eyes shut as you pull the cups of your bras down, fully exposing yourself Sukuna’s eyes .. and Yuji’s, too oh God.
The reminder that Yuji can see everything that’s happening sends a fleet of butterflies to your stomach, and you kick yourself mentally when you find yourself jutting out your chest just a bit. Does he like them, the thoughts zips through your mind, and you don’t have time to question where the hell it came from before hands are roughly squeezing at them, calloused fingers pinching and twisting at your nipples.
“Are they as good as you imagined, kid? Cause you imagine them a lot.” Sukuna smirks, and then he’s snapping his eyes up to yours. “You wanna know what he thinks about doing to them?” His tongue lazily laps at your folds, occasionally parting them to venture down to your clenching hole and take a dip inside before repeating the process.
Sukuna doesn’t wait for your answer.
“He thinks about putting his cock between them, pushing them together so it’s nice and tight and fucking them.” He demonstrates, hands pushing your breasts together, and you can’t help but watch his hands as they grope and fondle you. “Thinks about how they’d bounce when he’s got you riding his cock.” His hands leave your breasts to instead grip your hips, and you gasp when easily lifts you, just to drop you back down onto his tongue, the appendage sliding into your cunt and reaching deep.
“Sukuna!”
He continues to lift you up and down, forcing you to ride his tongue, and his eyes stay locked on your bouncing breasts, lips still fixed in that same smirk. “You gonna come?” You feel as if his words are directed at more than just you. He moves you faster, nails biting into your skin, and your face contorts into one of bliss as you hold onto his wrists as tight as you can, eyes fluttering shut as your pussy clamps down.
He pulls you down for the final time, mouth latched onto your cunt as you come, greedy gulps and sucks sounding as he swallows down your slick, his hands moving from your hips to your back. He roughly pulls you towards his face, and a whimper-y moan forces itself out of you as his lips wrap around a stiff nipple, teeth sinking in before he’s soothing the sting away with his tongue.
You sag against him, ragged breaths disturbing tufts of pink hair, and the aggressive sucking on your breast morphs into softer, gentler sucks, the nails that had been scratching at your back replaced with gentle caresses, and the tongue and mouth that had been abusing your now puffy and sore cunt is gone.
“Yuji.” You sigh, and he hums around you before his whole body goes stiff, tongue pausing its gentle swipe against your nipple, and hands slowly moving away from you. The heat against your chest is sweltering, and you push yourself up on shaky arms, tiredly blinking down at his red face.
“I’m so sorry! I didn’t know he would do that or say those things! I-I don’t even know why he said all those things, I don’t think about you like that, I swear!” He goes off into a tangent, eyes darting between your face and your breasts, and you sigh again before leaning back down to push your lips against his.
The kiss is chaste and quick, and when you pull back your face is as hot as his, and you become acutely aware of your state of dress, hands fumbling to fix your bra and redo your shirt as you avert your gaze.
“What was that for?”
“You… you wouldn’t stop talking.” You defend as you fix the last button, and then you’re struggling to your feet before Yuji finally frees himself from his stupor and helps you. He pulls away from you and takes a few steps back, the both of you staring at each other in silence for a bit, and your eyes widen when you see his shirt has been ripped away around the stomach, the skin there wet from you and his happy trail glistening with your juices.
“I-”
“You-”
“Sorry, you go.” You both interrupt each other again.
“He-”
“We-”
You heave out a breath as he groans, and when he goes to say something else to wave your hands back and forth, stopping him short. “Let’s never talk about this again.”
“Oh… okay! Yeah! Okay! Lips are sealed.” He motions to lock his lips and throw away the key, and you can’t help but smile just a bit.
“Okay.” You nod, hands twisting together, and there’s another uncomfortable silence before he speaks up again.
“I can, um, walk you to class?”
“Oka—oh, your shirt.” You gesture to his ruined uniform, and he looks down as his eyebrows raise.
“How’d that happen—oh, yeah.” He looks at you, and you roll your lips into your mouth. “I guess I should change then.” You nod. “I’ll see you tonight then, right? For movie night?” Could you really sit through a movie with him after what Sukuna just did, after what he told you? An ache starts as you recall what he had revealed to you, and your eyes meet Yuji’s as you nod again.
“Yeah. Tonight.”
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sugurizz · 7 months
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𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐬, 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐬, 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐬 ✧ Feat. JJK MEN
𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ── Jjk Men in their -real- Daddy era. (Am I secretly having a baby fever LMAOO)
𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 ── fluffy stuff, pure wholesomeness and affectionate dads.
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𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢
It's safe to say that sometimes you're raising two babies - only one of them is a big buff pouty one.
Daddy Toji sneaks to the kitchen in the middle of the night, leaving you both sleeping in your shared bedroom and then slowly closes the door. He promised himself he'd only take one *unnoticeable* spoon of your newborn's baby formula but ends up stuffing his face with the forbidden powder in the heat of the moment. He tries his best to hide his tracks by shoving the tin somewhere far in the cupboard.
He *oddly* always makes sure to be the one preparing his baby's bottle the next day - 'Oh darling, don'tcha move a muscle...I'll be right back with our baby's breakfast!'
You smile and raise a brow, already suspecting something. Daddy Toji is not much of a morning person. much less when it comes to baby chores...
𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮
Gojo is always there whenever you change your baby's diaper. He keeps laughing and giggling like a 6 year old, curiously learning from his baby momma how to take care of his little child. His sky blue eyes are staring at your skilled hands, handling your precious little one with infinte care. He keeps smiling in awe, chuckling every time your baby farts and making the funniest faces just to make them giggle.
He takes a million pictures of his baby every day; we're talking his whole camera roll is just his baby's face, cutesy hands, tiny feet, smiling, eating, sleeping on daddy's chest, drooling on his shoulder...the list never ends.
His baby looks so smol when he holds it in his huge hands. He has to bend all the way down just so he could pick them up cause obviously my dude is the tallest man ever.
𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢
He'd take full care of your newborn just to see you rest and relax. He told you to teach him everything he needs to know so that he'd be perfectly fit for his new -and best ever- occupation; your baby father. He's got however only one pet peeve; getting his little one to burp after feeding them.
The reason? He was doing it once, holding the baby while gently patting its back...until he suddenly felt a warm liquid slithering down his shirt - the expensive one you dearly gifted him on your wedding anniversary- and to his surprise it was none other than his little one's vomit dripping down his shoulder...
Now he makes sure you hold a napkin behind him whenever he does it.
𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨
He's by far the chillest Daddy EVER. Carries his little one whenever he goes. Gets super jealous when your baby starts calling for you, or wants you to hold them instead of him. He's determined to make them say 'daddy' first, but deep down knows it'd melt his heart when he sees the little version of him utter mommy's name for the first time.
Staying awake at night putting his baby to sleep just so you can get your full nightly rest is something he'd never miss out on. He hates seeing you tired or sleepy and puts both of your needs before anything else.
Daddy Geto is always calm and smiley, no matter how much mess his baby makes or how long it'd take for him to clean it up - sometimes makes you seriously wonder how he manages to be so damn chill all the time.
𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚
For a husband twice your size with four arms and eyes he sure should take most care of your little offspring - He does tbf - His baby is always laying somewhere on his body or at least near him; sleeping against his chest, nibbling on his thumb, drooling on the side of his shoulder or sitting on his huge lap.
He's got a 6th sense whenever it comes to his baby being hungry, thirsty, sleepy or needing anything at all. Instantly knows the reason why his little one is crying and most of the time is very quick to make them happy again.
Absolutely hates poopie smell and calls them a brat whenever he senses their diaper getting heavier. 'Aggh you little runt!' You can't help laughing at him getting overwhelmed with such a tiny thing and start teasing him over it.
𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐘𝐮𝐮𝐭𝐚
There's nothing that Yuuta loves more than children. He has always wanted to have kids and couldn't wait to create his very first and own one with you. He's in LOVE with seeing you taking care of them; almost admiring every move and every word you say. He smiles like an idiot whenever he sees you holding your baby, breastfeeding them, playing with them or even laying next to them.
His favorite game is to hide somewhere in the house and let his little one look for him. He does it so suddenly and quickly, leaving them puzzled with big round eyes - comes out of his hideaway when they start sobbing and laughs at their little red nose and pouty cheeks.
'Aww why is my little cupcake cryiiing?...Daddy's right here!'
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hoshigray · 8 months
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𝐑𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 | nanami kento
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𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: dom! Nanami x fem/afab! reader - nipple play - hair pulling - doggy style + deep impact positions - restricted movements (using his tie on your hands) - overstimulation - pet names (angel, baby, love, sweetpea) - clitoral play - orgasm denial.
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: Oops, I did it again. Nanami being rough with his hands on your body. That's it, that's the tweet. Smthn quick thanks to MAPPA serving good food to the nanami fanatics on this week's ep
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We all know Nanami Kento would treat his partner with the utmost care. There is no man you can put your entire faith in when it comes to your body than him. He's always perfect with you. Checking up on you to see if you're okay, rubbing circles on your back to calm you down from a haze, wiping tears on your face whenever he makes you feel so goddamn good. And let's not forget the kiss on the forehead he places so gently as he fucks you lovingly.
In terms of lovemaking and treating your body right, Nanami is undeniably the perfect candidate…
…However, there will occasionally be those moments when you’d want him to be just a tad rough with you. Nothing wrong with the soft, cutesy shit. No, no, you love it!  But let’s face it; when you have a man who looks so deliciously alluring to the eye, with his broad shoulders and strong forearms that peek from his dress shirt, you can’t blame your mind for indulging with wilder thoughts. Especially when you express said thoughts to him.
And he listens to your request with his absolute attention. He’ll ask for confirmation before he does anything rash. And when you give him the green flag, your fate is sealed for the rest of the night. 
“—Ggaahhh!! Ahaahnn!! Ken–Kentooo, you’re going—OhmyGod, OhmyGoood—“
“Shhh, don’t squirm too much, love.” He’ll whisper to your ear so hotly you nearly fall to your knees had it not been for his leg between yours, essentially making you ride his sturdy thigh. Your back pressed up against his abdomen while his hands roamed your body. One hand in your shirt, slipping your bra up to release your breast from the material, and for his hands to knead and play with your mounds. The other stuffed down your shorts and passed your panties, his fingers intimately close to your hot, wet folds. And you jerk when his ring finger presses down on your clit.
“Ahooo! Kento, stop, stooop!!” You don’t want him to stop — he knows you don’t want him to stop. “I’m gonna cum, it’s gonna happen—Nnnnmm!!!” He tweezes your nipple roughly, evoking an erotic shriek. 
“You better come on me,” he demands you. Oh, how he sounds so hot when he does that. “Make my hand filthy like you, baby.”
But that’s only the beginning. Wait until you two move into the bedroom with his pelvis rutting onto the cusp of your ass. Face down to the pillow and ass up for Nanami to station you, and his hand in your hair, lightly tugging it. Sweat shields your body and glistens from the bedroom lights, your hands tied behind your back by his necktie. You’ve left with nothing to stand your ground, forced to take in his cock that churns your inner walls. And, God, it feels so fucking good. 
“How’re you feeling there, angel?” Nanami, his pants and tie discarded with his shirt no longer buttoned up. The fingers in your hair massage your scalp. “Hmm? Are you feeling good?”
“…Uhhaaa—Ohohhh!” There’s no way you could give him a proper response in a position like this. Your head is so far gone that all you can think about is the commotion between your legs. The deeper he grinds his cock into your chasm, the deeper you sink into your blissful fog. Your hips begin to move involuntarily at this point; it just feels too exhilarating to stop! 
However, attending to your bliss has its faults, especially when you’re not paying attention to the man making you feel this way. Because Nanami pulls your hair, forcing your face upright from the pillows. You cry at the sudden yank, exposing the drool and tears that trickle down your pretty face.
“You know better than that, Y/n.” His serious voice is on, your cunt twitches around his length. “I need your words to let me know how good you’re feeling.”
“Ahck—Mmmm…S’ too good, Kentooo. Y’ make me feel so good. So fucking—Ahannn…good….” did you mean for your words to slur? Who cares. Just don’t stop; please keep it going. Please, please, please—
Nanami chuckles at your words and lets your face fall back to the pillow. “Good.”
But don’t think the fun stops there. Nope. It just keeps getting better. 
With your hands still tied, you now lie on your back to the comforter while he pistons his cock into you, one of your legs now on his shoulder to get a better angle to hit your sweet spots accurately. The wails you let out are uncontainable — there’s no point in stopping them from flying out your mouth. Your bottom lip is puffy from how much you’ve bitten it this entire time, and more tears fall to your neck.
Nanami looks at your expressions intently, mocha eyes never leaving your gorgeous face. It’s here that he finally withdraws his shirt and fucks you nude, sharing this intimate heat and passion with you. And, lord, he looks so fucking good right now. His tidy golden hair now with strands sticking to his forehead, sweat shared between your naked bodies, and his beautiful brown orbs taking you in like you’re the greatest treasure in the world. 
“Ohhfuck, ohhhfuuckin—Ohhh!!!” Oh, God. With the way the tip of his cock precisely hits and scrapes your tender spots, you can feel your climax coming to get you. “Kento, Ken–Nnmphh, I’m gonna, I’m gonna—“
And then it vanishes. It didn’t come. Why? Because Nanami immediately removes his length from your slick-coated slit, the electrifying tingles in your body subside in seconds. Of course, you whine to him with doe, tearful eyes. So cruel. He’s so just cruel, but you love it.
“Mmmm, sorry, sweetpea.” You know he’s not sorry. The tiny mischievous glint in his eyes is telling. “Let me hear you beg for it first, the I’ll give my baby what they want.”
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© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2023 — dividers from @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more
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sttoru · 1 month
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⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. you show your husband some affection, thinking you two were alone - only to be interrupted by your son.
tags. dad!toji fushiguro x wife!female reader. fluff, suggestive. mentions of toji developing / having a dad bod. & reader having a mom bod. reader gets called ‘princess, mama (by gumi)’. baby gumi waking up bcs of a nightmare. excuse me - not beta read bcs i was half asleep when writing this rt_t
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“tooooji,” you smile as you enter the kitchen. you’ve put megumi to bed - finally - and have the chance to spend some one-on-one time with your dear husband. both of you deserve the rest after a hard day of work.
toji has been putting the dishes back in their designated spots whilst you were away. the dark-haired man turns his head to the side once he feels a pair of arms wrap around his waist. a small grin tugs at his lips, “missed me, princess?”
you roll your eyes. even if years have passed since your marriage, toji has not stopped using that specific nickname for you. he loves calling you ‘princess’, because that’s what you’ll always be to him. in his eyes, at least.
“mhm,” you decide to indulge him. you bury your face into his broad back, feeling the muscles he’s worked so hard on obtaining. after megumi was born, toji did let himself go for a bit, but that is a good sign.
it means he’s content with his life - this peaceful life that he’s settled down for with no regrets. no more being reckless, no more battling for money; he’s now got a family to come back home to after all.
“is the little brat asleep?” toji asks while putting the last dish away. he’s visibly enjoying your warm hands that have slid under his shirt. your skin is so soft to the touch compared to his.
you chuckle and nod to his question. “gumi’s sleeping like a baby,” you rub your husband’s stomach gently, feeling the little bumps of his fading abs. you’re loving his new body - just as much as toji loves yours.
toji turns around to face you, desperately needing to return the favor. he can’t get enough of being with you. his rough hands grab your waist and bring you closer against his body, until your chests are nearly touching. he lowers his head to your neck, “that means i can show my wife how much i love her, yeah?”
you shiver at how toji’s voice turns from soft and gentle to sexual and husky. big hands find their place on your tummy, massaging the loose skin with its stretch marks. you can hear your husband’s breath hitch. “fuck,” toji swallows his spit, his fingers moving to grasp your hips.
toji loves how your hips got wider after you’ve given birth to your child. every change in your body, whether big or small, is completely welcomed by him. your body has blessed toji with a son he loves and he’ll forever be grateful for that fact. the least he can do is take his time to appreciate you.
“so beautiful,” toji sighs as he leaves soft pecks on your neck and throat. his fingers are working their way down to your thighs and ass—not leaving a single patch of skin untouched. his lips eventually find yours and you melt into his embrace.
it’s getting heated and the tension is palpable. toji’s about to lift you into his arms when you catch a glimpse of a short figure in the doorway. your eyes widen and you immediately detach your lips from your husband’s.
toji quickly catches on and sighs. he cocks his head to the left, the sight of his toddler standing at the doorway coming into view. “damn kid,” he whispers, nearly pouting because of the interruption. you playfully slap his bicep—a warning to fix his potty mouth in front of megumi.
“h-hey, gumi,” you say with an awkward giggle, walking towards the child. you fix your shirt in the meantime, straightening the material. you crouch down to megumi’s level and pat his head tenderly, “what happened? why are you out of bed?”
megumi stares up at you with teary eyes. he’s clenching onto his dog plushie, hugging the stuffed animal to his little body. you can easily guess that he’s scared—probably because of a nightmare. he’s been getting those more frequently.
though, instead of explaining himself, megumi searches for answers to something else. he points at his dad who’s leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. the toddler then looks back at you like he’s made some big discovery;
“mama papa kissing!”
you nearly choke on your spit. megumi’s a clever little boy and it shows through his advanced vocabulary. you’re surprised that he’s learnt what that meant already. you try to deny what your child said, “no, uhm, mama and papa were just hugging!”
toji snorts at your half assed excuse. he lazily walks over to you two, hands in his pockets. he bends forwards and looks megumi in the eyes with a huge smirk on his face. “yeah, we were. ‘n you totally ruined it,” he utters without any shame and menacingly sticks his tongue out at the little boy.
you hiss and lightly shove toji—he cannot take anything seriously. you’re trying your best to distract megumi’s attention from what he’s seen his parents do, to what his reason is for waking up.
“did you have a nightmare again?” you coo and pick your son up. he instantly snuggles up to you and presses his face against your chest in search of comfort. you smile and can conclude that your assumptions are right.
you pet megumi’s head whilst softly humming one of his favorite lullabies. toji watches your interaction with his son and his mood softens once more. he silently hugs you from behind—also wrapping an arm around megumi—turning it into a little family group hug.
“y’re all right, buddy,” toji mutters to megumi and the little boy sniffles in response, “mama ‘n papa ‘re right here.”
after a couple minutes, you carry megumi back to his room before putting him down in his bed. your husband stands next to you as you make sure your kid is tucked in properly.
megumi stares up at you with a sniff and you nearly melt at the adorable sight. you brush his bangs out of his eyes and kiss his forehead, wishing him a good night. the toddler nods and hugs his plushie to his chest again, still a bit shaken up from the nightmare. however, he’s doing a lot better after he got comforted by both his parents.
“sweet dreams, gumi,” you whisper and rub megumi’s cheeks with a fond smile on your lips. toji simply stares at you conversing with megumi—his face showing little to no emotion. though, from within, toji is absolutely in awe at your motherly personality. you’re the perfect mother.
megumi gets drowsy and tosses onto his side so he could be more comfortable. he struggles to open his eyes, but manages to look at toji. the little boy pouts and points another finger at his dad, this time drowsily warning him, “papa no kiss mama, ‘kay?”
that comment catches you off guard. you’re embarrassed by the fact that megumi still remembers what he’s seen in the kitchen. you try to clear your throat and explain yourself, but toji’s one step ahead of you. he silently mimics megumi’s words and rolls his eyes—
“yeah yeah, whatever. i won’t,” toji promises his son. the toddler clearly inherited your husband’s protectiveness. you chuckle at the playfulness between the two, enjoying the jokey banter the father-son duo have each time.
megumi huffs in victory and nods. he can sleep in peace now, knowing his dad won’t try anything funny with you. he closes his weary eyes and is asleep within just a few seconds.
you stretch your arms and sigh in content. you can’t help but chuckle once you notice how megumi’s fallen asleep with a tiny smile on his lips. you give the child one last forehead kiss before leaving the room in silence.
toji follows right behind you. now that his son is sound asleep, he doesn’t have to keep his promise. technically— he wasn’t planning to anyway.
“c’mere,” your husband mumbles and grabs your hand. he pulls you into a tight hug, hands instantly roaming your body which he admires so much. he plants his lips onto yours not a second later.
you smile into the kiss, finding it funny how toji couldn’t keep his (fake) promise for even one second. he would die if he actually couldn’t kiss you, and that isn’t even an exaggeration.
toji pulls back after a moment and smirks at you—those bedroom eyes of his very telling.
“so, where were we?”
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seelestia · 26 days
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✧ i'll show you (if you'll let me).
⎯ there is a certain touch of beauty to witnessing a side of theirs revealed to you so naturally. it becomes as easy as breathing if you just let it happen... so, will you? ( or in other words, a way you enable them to be themselves. )
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#STARRING. aventurine, dr. ratio, sunday, dan heng ft. gn!reader. { 4.2k words }
#TAGS. fluff, established relationship. more: minor spoilers for aven's backstory (described mostly abstractly), ratio is referred to by his first name, i called sunday a nerd (sorry), dr. ratio & dan heng are certified workaholics.
#P/S. i think i may have yapped a little considering the word count but i hope it ends up being a good kind of yapping. tysm for reading! ♡
© seelestia on tumblr, may 2024. please do not repost, plagiarize, translate, use for AI-related purposes or claim as your own.
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will you let aventurine hold you close when he sleeps? . . . whether it's an arm slung over your hips or his nose buried in your shoulder or fingers tracing shapes onto your skin. he doesn't ask for too much; only that you grant him the permission to cradle you in his arms, somewhere within his reach. it's a habit, he hopes you don't mind.
you have to wonder, though. considering the plenitude of pillows on the bed, why do his hands still seek you out? with all the credits he spent on those cotton-stuffed angels, you thought aventurine would relish them a bit more. but ah-ah, see? that is where you're wrong. sure, the pillows are extremely comfy but he always has a preference for things with much, much more value.
and the truth — well, his truth — is that even the softest cushions from oti mall couldn't compare to the privilege of laying his head on your chest, he'd say. especially when you brush his hair with your fingers - oh, one of the easiest ways to paradise. truly, the best value there is! can you blame a man for being honest and a little lovesick?
(“sappy,” you accuse. he pouts, offended.)
but aventurine has a flair for theatrics, you know that. his witty quips are as feather-light in weight as light-hearted they are in intent. but his touch - in the forms of kind caresses or rhythmic taps to a tune from his forgotten culture - lingers on your skin, with a yearning so heavy. you question whether it could be nostalgia or instead, silent awe at a reality he never imagined could ever be his.
(kakavasha remembers. clinging onto you for warmth like he once did to his sister, falling asleep with her prayers to mama fenge in his ears. the avgins believed gaiathra triclops to be the symbol of humility; so naturally, their prayers to her should also be humble, not too quiet but not too loud. all in moderation. for a frail child like him, those gentle prayers alone were enough to let him drift into a dreamless slumber and to ignore the shackles of reality if not for the briefest moments.
time passed. came a time where the melody he associated with slumber was no longer a soft voice lulling him but pure static, a noise to distract his mind from the chains around his wrists. they burned themselves onto his skin, searing, but he was already too familiar with the sensation to care. the mark on his neck was unwelcome, laughing at him, but he too laughed at his own pitiful reflection so what's the difference, anyway?
time passed again, the call of slumber then turned into clattering noises of chips doused in gold and dice thrown onto a surface. he thought it'd stay that way forever but before long, it morphed into up-and-down waves he couldn't decipher initially. they're gentle, faint like a human's breathing: your breathing as you allowed him to lie beside you for the first time, he realized back then. although he deems himself unworthy, an ugly grime on your pristine existence that still insists on cradling him — but despite it all, he finds this last melody to be his favorite so far.)
✧ a moment among the stars:
ticklish.
the sensation, minor yet still impactful enough, causes you to stir out of sleep. the light of noon greets your eyes and you become vaguely cognizant that the root of it all is the tufts of blond hair brushing against your neck.
there is a solid weight on your torso and a pair of slender arms loosely wrapped around your waist - but they're nothing you haven't grown used to. you comb your fingers through the messy locks licking at your skin, instinctively, and the fragrant scent of what you register as penacony's limited edition perfume kisses your nose.
“...ugh, what system time is it?” you let out a grunt, shifting around slightly to let your limbs breathe. you don't get an answer to your question, instead, aventurine's arms reestablish their hold on you. hooking you closer to him as if to wring out whatever proximity is left, if there is even any. his simple proclamation of “who cares?”, in a sense.
there it is again, that ticklish feeling. you feel soft lips grazing feather-like kisses against your collarbone. oh, he definitely isn't letting go just yet. truly merciless, a dozy morning thought accompanied by your tired sigh. the noise still comes out fond, however, so your feigned act of annoyance is fooling no one.
“it's warm, you know,” you grumble. but the yawn escaping your mouth right after betrays whatever stern image you're trying to adopt. not like you can ever be too stern with him. aventurine knows this, yes, and he gives you an A+ for effort each time.
“mhm,” he finally speaks, snuggling into your chest with no care about anything in the world, “g'morning to you too, lovely.”
his favorite mornings aren't his favorite if not thanks to your innocuous complaints and delightful attempts at pushing his pretty face away, no? a lazy grin graces the stoneheart's lips and eyes like exquisite gems, although sleepy, flutter open to gaze at you languidly. he takes the sight of you in then lets out a sigh - a fond noise just like yours earlier; the both of you really are two peas of a pod.
you must look a terrible mess right now and yet, the sight of you has aventurine smiling dazedly. “ah, what a spectacular sight. i really am the luckiest man in the galaxy,” he hums in approval. you want to roll your eyes but stops as he leans up to pepper (ah, one necessary correction: smother) kisses all over your face, arms dragging you closer to his chest like a cage. your eyes widen comically. what a nefarious trap, he has the advantage!
every remnant of sleepiness clinging to your mind evaporates. you squeal with laughter, shoving at his shoulder using the strength of a baby deer because no, you don't really want him to stop. he knows that too, of course.
“mwah, mwah, mwah—”
“pfft...! kakavasha, i can't breathe!”
(he has half a mind to pinch his skin, as if to remind himself that this is real. he can feel your giggles tickling his skin as if to tell him in return: yes, you are.)
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will you let veritas pour his heart out after a long day? . . . well, that could count as too much of an overstatement. others say, “that man is like a brick wall!” some more dare to whisper, “doesn't his temper already exhaust whatever emotional quota he has?!” needless to say, everyone knows that dr. ratio is a man ruled by the mind, not by the heart. alright, that's quite true - but does that imply he has discarded the latter altogether? if so, then you beg to differ.
(not in the literal sense, of course! the heart is a vital organ of the body. saying otherwise would be akin to spitting on his shiny phd in biology... or his seven other phd's at that.)
the pedestal which the public places veritas ratio on reaches still great heights, even if it may not rival an ivory tower a member of the genius society resides in. it is so high up that mundane troubles of those below can't reach a genius like him, surely? well, as tall as he stands - somehow, the universe grants you a front row seat for a particular sight that proves otherwise.
if only they knew the doctor has a habit of mumbling these incomprehensible (more like barely intelligible) grumbles under his breath, striking a resemblance similar to a grumpy old cat. if you strain your ears hard enough, you might catch a “...this has to be it...” or “...i dare not think so...” from time to time as he roams around the room with materials in his hands.
(absurd, people would say. but you think it's extremely cute.)
veritas doesn't say it out loud - but you can tell by the hunch in his stiff shoulders, by the one or two sighs he huffs every six minutes - that he is itching to tell somebody of all the tomfooleries he has encountered today. of course, the topics he laments about vary; it's only when you hear him exhaling the loudest sigh that you get to find out.
mostly though, it's about his students and remarks on how they can further improve their performance — sure, he could phrase it a little gentler — but you still find it sweet that he cares. if not that, then it'd be about indolent colleagues, complicated formulae and more. on some days, he'll even let out an exasperated “truly mind-boggling! could you believe that?” to which you'd reply with an “uh-huh, go on.”
at the end of a ranting session, veritas takes careful note to leave a kiss on your person afterward. no matter where it is - on the lips, the cheek or your hand. no matter where you are - sitting on the couch beside him, behind the kitchen counter or across the room. the warmth that stays on your skin when he pulls away is somewhat tingly. appreciative, you think, especially when he looks at you with such loving eyes that his colleagues would be sure to retch in shock if they were a witness.
looks like you are right on the money; he has never discarded his heart, after all. so yes, to rephrase - will you lend veritas a listening ear when he needs it?
✧ a moment among the stars:
“...yet another headache.”
as unsubtle as ever, the doctor's complaint is barely hidden behind the guise of a mumble. those neatly styled violet bangs of his aren't doing an excellent job at concealing that frown strewn across his forehead either. veritas's posture is tense, a dead giveaway, as he goes over the piles of documents on his desk.
you cock an eyebrow upon seeing the stamp belonging to the intelligentsia guild on one of the papers. definitely work. it has been two system hours since he took a seat at the work desk, you concur, or lifted a finger to do something besides flipping through drafts. a mere glance at the stack of documents is enough to convince you that those researchers at the guild must really value veritas's input.
a perk of being a genius, maybe? the phantom of a weight lands alight on your shoulders. with a mug of black coffee in hand, you make your way to him. your footsteps are without a sound, only the noise of porcelain being placed down onto woodenware is enough to announce your arrival. “rough day at work?” you ask, peering down at his progress.
(a doctor's handwriting really is something. you resist the urge to squint.)
veritas doesn't seem to mind. if the way he smiles at the sight of you, albeit tiredly, is any indication. “hah,” he rests a hand on his temple and scoffs wryly, “so much grievances like you wouldn't believe.”
oh, he is teetering on the precipice of a tangent but stops himself. “...fret not, i'm fine. this is hardly something beyond my expertise,” he shakes his head, the motion causing his reading glasses to slide down a smidgen down the bridge of his nose.
you're too familiar with the self-assured bravado he puts on. you're quite endeared, actually. “okay, mr. i-require-no-rest,” you take the glasses off his face and he breaks into a frown. at the childish tone you're using or for having his reading glasses taken away, you don't know.
“why don't you take a little break?” you suggest. veritas sighs, “need i remind you that dilly-dallying is for fools who wish to waste their time?” and crosses his arms defiantly. he knows your strategy, he has come face-to-face with it several times.
“do you think a break with me is a waste of time?” you present him with a rhetorical question, quite the difficult adversary.
(and he keeps losing to it every single time.)
“well, that's—” the doctor nearly splutters, taken aback. “that's different if you insist on inserting yourself as a variable,” he infers, putting emphasis on the last part accompanied by an incredulous look.
“the answer is up for debate then,” you shrug with a cheeky smile. your hand then deftly lifts the mug you previously set down to your lips, veritas's eyes dilate in bewilderment. “so,” you hum at the rich taste of your handiwork, “wanna tell me about your day? haven't heard about the council in a while.”
“you—” he gasps in defeat, “i thought that was supposed to be my mug of coffee.”
(he has a slight pout on his face, but you dare not point it out lest it disappears in the blink of an eye.)
“our mug of coffee,” you take a few more sips with an innocent decadence. “all is fair in love and war, doctor.”
“i can never win with you,” he buries his face in his palm with a groan. you laugh heartily, a sound that chimes like quaint little bells in his ears - it elicits a reaction from his lips, for them to quirk up at the corners in the smallest of ways.
“regardless. . .” veritas relents and reaches for your free hand. you let him. “it seems a break wouldn't be so amiss, after all,” he then presses a kiss on the side of your wrist, affectionate.
(your heart skips a beat.)
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will you let sunday regale you with facts you've never heard of before? . . . a man of eloquent words, no less a man of educated mind. you have no doubt that the books in the dewlight pavilion really aren't just there for show - not that you're allowed to browse through them at your own desire. a servant's voice would stop you in your tracks should your fingers ever brush against something in the family's secret bookshelf.
how mysterious.
but sunday makes it known to the staff that you, in particular, are allowed more access to the shelves - perhaps, not too much - but more than even mr. mccoy, at least. with the way you have to crane your neck far up to pinpoint the tallest height that the shelves reach, you wonder: has sunday gone through everything here personally?
your immediate answer is most likely. you know sunday fairly well; to have something that he hasn't scrutinized from the inside out in his possession will surely gnaw away at his psyche incessantly. not being in the know at all times is a looming fear for him. but of course, you have other ways to confirm the answer for yourself.
pick out a book from a shelf there, either intentional or purely arbitrary, and watch as sunday carefully traces his steps towards you. his curiosity is piqued, which topic has caught your interest this time? but he tucks it under proper cordiality. with a hand behind his back, he'd utter your name in the softest tone and ask the familiar question of “would you like to know more?” — asking for your permission to ramble, essentially — you find this tendency of his to be charming, so you nod each time.
(and he smiles when you do. a smile less refined at the edges, kinder and relaxed.)
the best place to start from is always the beginning. you think sunday agrees because he often starts by telling you the history and its origins before moving on to its impact on the galaxy, then his personal stance on the topic. it's a pattern, you notice, his ramblings have a pattern. and it's consistent every time, you might've believed he was reading off a script. and what's more? sunday is blissfully oblivious of it.
fascinating. you ponder: what kind of things you can do with this information? decisions, decisions, decisions. . . but ultimately, you opt for keeping it a secret like a treasure only you're allowed to see.
(that might be true in a way. you don't doubt that robin, his dear sister, is familiar with this side of him. does that mean he treasures you like he does her? your chest starts to feel a bit lighter.)
if you were to point it out, you fear you might never witness it again - goodness, to know that he has been displaying such foolishness or rather, what he viewed as an embarrassing freudian slip in front of you? his wings might as well resort to covering his face for good until the end of time.
as you listen to him talk (with such elegance at that), you can't help whatever tender look you have on your face. really, who would've thought the head of the oak family could be such. . . a nerd?
(you hope in secret that sunday will be more willing to show sides like these to you in the future. and that they're not a weakness at all, not when they're shared with you.)
✧ a moment among the stars:
“it looks like you're fascinated by the dreamscape nursery rhyme this time.”
sunday spares the article in your hold no further inspection. one glance at the cover and walls of memorized information rush to the front of his mind. he looks familiar with it; could it be a part of his childhood too? but then again, everything found here is within his knowledge.
“i am,” you say with intrigue, “it got me ruminating for a while.”
you meet his gaze, stumbling upon yellow irises that glimmer akin to gold under penaconian chandeliers. you think you see a hint of affection in them, swimming around your reflection like a school of fish in a pond. it makes you smile.
he smiles back, oblivious to your thoughts but returns your gesture. he asks, “how so?” and you reply without delay, “i read through it and the morbid undertone took me by surpri—”
or at least, it's supposed to be without delay until you realize sunday has stepped closer in order to peer down at the page you're holding open. and suddenly, you're extremely aware of every minute detail like how his breath brushes against the side of your cheek and how his chest rumbles as he hums in acknowledgement.
(you flush in the neck and he perceives this reaction of yours with mirth.)
“my apologies,” sunday chuckles and pulls away, “i've simply forgotten the rhyme and wished to refresh my memory.”
“somehow, i feel that isn't the case...” you mumble accusingly. that seems to amplify whatever little amusement he gets from flustering you. “oh, my dove. i can assure you that it is,” he caresses your head, a little placatingly.
most times, sunday isn't so laidback about giving affection in public — since he has an image to maintain — so you assume the fact that the servants are out and about, leaving only you and him here, plays a role in his unusual boldness. you accept the gesture with a bashful pout.
“now, where were we?” sunday clears his throat, “ah, yes. some people have noted on the nursery rhyme's strange quality but still, it retains its popularity in penacony. it is also widely assumed that the hound resembles the bloodhound family while—”
you hold back an amused sigh, but it's more out of fondness than anything. he'll start from the history then the effect on the general public, as per usual, but you're not the only predictable one here. you'd listen to him anytime too, won't you?
(you do adore when the head of the oak family would put off his public figure mask around you. if only for just a while.)
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will you let dan heng rest his head on your lap when it's just you two? . . . the sense of comfort it provides isn't something he can explain with words. as if he has ever been good with words in the first place. saying a sentence bereft of logical reasoning or witty remarks doesn't come easily to the express’ guard. neither does intimacy. . . but you know that already, don't you?
after all, it isn't a secret that dan heng prefers speaking with his actions. if to show one's intentions is the end goal, then actions are the fastest route to choose. words, although able to sweeten the trip like how a beautiful scenery can, will eventually lead to actions regardless so why take the extra step?
but you're different from him; you articulate what you think and what you mean. you're honest in ways that keep catching dan heng off guard without fail — just like the first time you offered your empty lap to him when his head was swirling in pain — but he supposes that is one of your charms. “words can be useful. we're not all born mind readers,” you told him once and he hummed, accepting of your perspective.
(“look at you two! opposites attract!” march chirped. he recalled shooting her a look of indignation and she rubbed the back of her head sheepishly in response.)
dan heng has learnt to grow used to your propensities - but by far, your shameless invitations are still one matter that can't be comprehended even with time. he cannot understand; how you smile as you sit on his futon in the archives (he doesn't mind), how you link gazes with him so effortlessly, how you pat your lap knowingly and say, “why don't you rest your head here?”
(he has to restrain himself from bursting into flames like a heliobus.)
sometimes, he'll accept reluctantly or he'll decline with an underlying tone of longing he doesn't want you to notice. because as much of a good hold dan heng has on nonchalance, he cannot deny that this particular gesture of yours has left a mark on him.
(it remains persistently.)
when he rests his head on your lap, he can't help but take a deep inhale - your fragrance fills his senses and he discards the selfish desire to keep it all to himself. your fingers are soothing as they thread through his hair gently. the feeling that washes over him is serene, almost comparable to submerging himself in the pure waters of scalegorge waterscape.
when overcome by such a tranquil state of mind, dan heng wonders what expression he might be making at that moment? he always keeps his eyes closed, so it's a shame he may never know. but you do, and you don't think you've ever seen him look so at peace before like he does now.
(perhaps, that's why you keep offering him this in the first place.)
✧ a moment among the stars:
“someone looks tired,” you state with a pointed stare. the archives isn't a room too spacious and the only ones here are you and him. the target of your sentence is obvious.
but dan heng doesn't take the bait, barely looks away from the entry he is currently authoring. still, he spares you a glance and hums glibly, “are you projecting? if so, feel free to use my bed in the meantime.”
you let out a noise, something gibberish that conveys disappointment but it is effectively drowned out by the typing noises. “you haven't even touched the food i bought you,” your voice becomes mellow, “why don't you rest for a while?”
he isn't convinced, you think, since his fingers are still hard at work. the new info the team brought back must've been a lot if he's that focused.
“dan heng?” you try again, hopeful for the last time. you don't take him for a fool, of course, he'll know when he reaches his limit and have proper rest then. but would that really be ideal? a second passes and that hope flickers like a dimming light. but just an inch before the edge of giving up, the typing slows to a stop.
“. . .alright,” he murmurs. finally, after a good hour spent drawing patterns on his backside with your eyes, dan heng turns around to face you. he look tense, you note with abject concern.
“here,” you usher him to your lap, empty and conveniently so. dan heng shoots you a blank look - this isn't the first time you offered and this isn't the first time he reacted like that. you try to suppress a laugh, failing gloriously at it. “just for a little bit,” you utter through a stifled fit of chuckles.
dan heng shakes his head, not in rejection but in defeat. his eyes slip close, second nature, as he leans to situate his head on your lap. you welcome him with a hum and let your fingers card through his hair. a calm sigh falls from his lips like a water droplet in springtime.
“this. . . is nice,” he admits, sudden and unprompted. you nearly doubt your ears for a moment there. did he— “i don't hate it is, uhm, what i mean to say,” dan heng adds and it dawns on you that your ears are still working. his eyes are still closed, not that you'd expect anything else, he prefers to treat it as a shield from being face-to-face with embarrassment.
(or to avoid your ecstatic gaze. he can feel warmth rushing to his cheeks already.)
“i know,” you smile, brushing away a few messy strands from his forehead. he isn't an open book but you think you've read the pages enough to remember all the little details. “but thanks for telling me. i'm no mind reader but i think i can read yours pretty well.”
“i shall provide no further comment,” he holds back an incredulous exhale, yet his lips still curl slightly at the corner. you feel the teeniest desire to trace the curve of his lips with your fingertip but settle for silently admiring them instead.
“it's fine. i know the answer already,” you say, words dripping with affection. such a shame dan heng never looks up at you during a time like this. because if he did, he wouldn't have missed seeing the sheer fondness in your gaze that rains down on him in light showers. a true shame.
(one day, he'll gather the courage. maybe.)
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— thank you for reading! reblogs with comments are most appreciated. ♡
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