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#Impromptu day off
fisheito · 2 months
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at last....yakumo with CHIKEN
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donnyclaws · 7 months
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I was gonan make a post apologizing for lack of regular art but I feel like jts already clear im sporadic and in and out of it bc chronic pain and circumstances. So for now I'm gonna hibernate, get my health steady again, deal with money issues, and art will happen when it happens.
#i do feel kind of worn down by it. i wish patreon and commissions didn't feel so taxing even with accommodations ive made for myself#maybe it'll feel better in the future when less is going on but rn it#places this barrier of management in front of art that makes it less relieving to do#cause there's always a part of my brain reminding me it needs to serve a purpose and needs to pay off in some way#which isn’t a new feeling for artists obviously. maybe doing it all since hs js also why it's tiring. and patreon changjng the way it does#working part time now too. idk if maybe id like to step back from it#it's abnormal that i worked taht hard and it did help me get out from my parents and stay out. but im also tired ect#idw let people down by not being able to keep up with a self imposed expectation or#be irresponsible and remove sources of income for myself. redbubble inprnt and patreon all suck in ways that bother me hugely#i only really enjoy itch.io at the minute#not to say anything bad abt patrons or commission clients you've all been excessively kind and patient and understanding always#i wish i could make them better i feel like there's no way how it is at the minute is of value compared to my output as an older teen#but yknow. self imposed worry. im just worn out and id like to just make things without the management and the fretting and the#i havent made a comic post for patreon in ages or this or this i havent made a speedpaint or a song or#yadda yadda lmao#sorry for the impromptu ramble#this isnt to say id never do commissions or a store or anything again or i want to not make money off art#god knows i will need to be grinding out comms once im well again but ex#i feel like im getting less and less able to manage it and then putting out less and less#and hoping ill somehow get very healthy and active again one day and make it worth the wait yknow.#it's not a feeling i want my art to carry in me.#part of me and the parent in my brain is saying it'd be selfish to give up income but the rest is like#that's cruel. i want to feel good and healthy
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quietwingsinthesky · 2 months
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if there was a torchwood/spn crossover, jack would get shot in the head so much. i know he already dies a lot, but he’s going to die so many times during this crossover. keeps getting bullets unloaded into him. they stab him with silver and steel and copper and none of it keeps him down. he’s gonna get squirted with borax and that one’s not gonna kill him but it is going to ruin his coat, which is materially worse for him.
#also gwen cooper would wrestle dean to the ground and beat him half to death#ianto is going to get himself possessed. im not saying he doesn’t take every precaution he knows how to against it. im saying he does and it#doesnt work <3#i think sam and tosh could be friends :) (<- actually means they’re just both stuck in ‘make this conversation go as smoothly as i can by#masking so fucking hard. so that i can leave sooner’ mode.)#and i think owen would kiss dean on the mouth because it would make him so uncomfortable and owen can and will use his ability to be an#asshole without regret for the good of the team. especially if this moment is directly a result of like. Dean hitting on Tosh while she’s#clearly not into it. Owen is going to kiss that man at the risk of getting shot just like jack has 17 times in a row just so that he’ll#fuck off and leave tosh alone. and this will work because dean winchester will immediately malfunction upon being kissed by a man because#now he doesn’t know whether to direct his homophobic impulses at owen (<- unaffected by anything he could say.) or himself (<- guy who#believes being gay works like cooties.)#and in the background you can see jack sort of gently put his hand over toshiko’s and she releases a pen she was holding onto very tightly#and this is the part where you realize Oh She Was Going To Stab Dean In The Knee With That If He Didn’t Stop.#i also think Jack should get to kiss Crowley. i think they’d both be into it and it’d be funny. i think they should reference that they’ve#been off-and-on lovers for years actually. (gwen: you’ve been sleeping??? with the king of hell???? || Jack: see i don’t know why this is#surprising to you.) (ianto has been standing there with his mouth slightly open for a full minute. long enough for crowley to comment on it#and for owen to jokingly try to shut it for him. (cue short impromptu slap fight as ianto bats his hands away and then owen gets too into#defending the honor of his poor slapped away hands.) but anyway. <3 ianto you’re into guys you really need to come to terms with this at#some point sir. jack is *not* your exception this is an all day job.)
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ereborne · 4 months
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Song of the Day: February 5
"It's Electric" Diamond Head cover by Metallica
#song of the day#threw together a playlist combo of songs I know my brothers like and songs I know they don't know but that I /think/ they'll like#this is the precursor to sitting on Nick until he figures out his pandora password so we can update the playlist we use on roadtrips#it's only 350ish songs long and he says he's sick of all of them so we're running back into the pre-sibling-singalong-playlist problems#where he wants to play only Foo Fighters and Mom Jeans and I want to pull my ears off and Duncan spaces out for the ride#so now I've tossed a bunch of things together to play around them. soft launching my playlist updates#we're--suddenly I'm recalling my uncle trying to convince us 'broke as a stoat' was the 'drunk as a skunk' poor person parallel--#we're flat broke so we won't be going on any of our little impromptu trips any time soon#(we like hanging out in the car and out-the-window enrichment keeps us from getting stir crazy but Nick hates not having a destination#so there's a handful of places two-to-three hours from us that we like to go. a particular beach. a really good deli. Bojangles#it's the journey not the destination etc but also if the destination has really good scenery or lunch then isn't that even better)#but I figure when we have the chance we're not going to want to spoil it arguing about who gets aux privileges#so I'm starting the playlist renovations now#anyway this song is sick as fuck. the Diamond Head version is fine but Metallica kicks ass at covers#later in the playlist we'll hit Metallica's versions of Tuesday's Gone and Whiskey In The Jar and I'll be delighted
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quietblissxx · 1 year
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💜💜💜
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personnotfound · 4 months
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Every time a character is revealed to dye their hair regularly and their natural hair color is not revealed, it's like, a weird habit of fandom to headcanon them a redhead. If not that, then it's usually blonde. Maybe it's because dark roots are a little more noticeable irl and you see it more often because there are so many people with darker hair, so it feels like the more obvious or cliche choice?
But I very very rarely see light brown at all if hair color isn't confirmed, which is a little disappointing. Maybe I'm just not seeing enough works in which hair color is not confirmed for a character. It is basically the rarest thing to not be solidly confirmed. Even if the skin color of a character is unspecified, hair color and style usually will be, which I kind of understand on a cultural level but on a strictly logistic sense, people tend to have more skin than hair (various adaptations of Rapunzel being exceptional in that regard)
I'm conclusion Gerard Keay has dull, light brown hair in my completely unhumble, arrogant as the Eye is curious, opinion. When he was an early teen he dyed it either bright red or blue (always the colors fourteen year olds talked about dyeing their hair back when I was one of those), decided he hated it and slapped some black dye on top of it. Since then he's decided it's easier to slap more dye on once in a while than get shitty box dye (that occasionally looks kinda green and he can never seem to apply evenly) out of his hair, and he doesn't want to cut it or have that stark line from mousy brown to black on his head.
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crimsongrimoire · 4 months
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rude little beast in my room being nosy
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rewordthis · 4 months
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Hazy Outlines: an impromptu Saturday art class
Saturday, friends!
Class is starting, even if there are still some things not running smoothly… I’m determined to do this anyway, so stick with me. Will overcome the obstacles together.
⚠️ (Apologising in advance because heavy text post with no pictures is boring af, but pics wouldn’t load for whatever reasons… Pff, bear with me, please. And if there’s anything you need to ask, please do! I’ll answer as quickly and as best to my ability! 🫠)
Now I’ll be handing out your first ever practical exercise fliers!
Well, technically not, since you’ll excuse me for making you go search for a square or rectangular box in your home... as this is going to be your assignment for the week. 😎
Yeah… you didn’t see that coming, I’m sure. Did I mention that this is a beginner’s exercises class?
I’ll need everyone participating in these classes to have a cube-like box or an object with 90° angles and straight corners and sides for this first exercise. It can be any material you got readily, any size (just… please not a trunk or something… 😑) a box of tissues would suffice. As long as it is square/rectangular with clean corners (not curved) and with no texture.
Well go on! Go bring it— I’m waiting…
You’ll have to place it in an angle and use a source of light coming from its left. You want it on the table while you sit down? You want it right in front of you, on your desk? You can put it on the damn floor for all I care— actually any weird angle will work better because the contrast will be greater… — all I’m asking, is you put it in perspective.
Now, all you’ll have to do is to decide on a spot to sit. But! Before we begin, I’d like to give some guidelines for the way we’ll work. Let’s go:
1. First of all, we will talk about the grip.
When you’ll be holding your pencil, you’ll have to keep it tilted in an angle. Not entirely parallel on the paper, but having the tip to be near-flat on it. For this, you’ll have to find a grip that allows your arm to move freely.
We won’t draw anything the way we write. Writing is a different function we do with our wrists (small clean lines) and drawing a whole other one we do with our entire arms (faint, broad lines).
Find how you are more comfortable holding the pencil without having your fingers brushing on the paper. Most of the times, the standard way is to use the whole grip to hold the pencil; this is the overhand grip but it needs a lot of time to get used to it and it’s better for fairly big areas. Another way is the loose grip. In loose grip, you hold your pencil way back (from the middle of it usually) and have the butt of the pencil resting on your hand like when you normally write. Personally I have a fairly different way of holding my pencil which heavily depends on the area I work in every occasion, but I just keep it from the butt and swing it when I need to do object placement etc. and then switch in a more steady grip as I add details.
Make lines on the paper. Try it out and see how it weights on the paper and your hand and see which grip feels more comfortable for you. Ideally you’d have to spent at least a couple days trying deferent grips in order to find what works for you. Don’t rush with this… it’s ok. The exercise is meant to be short so taking a few days off for this won’t have a negative impact. Quite the contrary, actually. 🤗
When you feel comfortable enough with your grip, make 6 boxes at one of your paper’s sides. Leave the first one blank. 👉 From boxes 2-6 fill the boxes with the pencils you have, starting from the bigger hardness. Aka, box 2: 2H hardness, 3: H hardness and so on. 👉 For the hardnesses you don’t have, use the closest hardness to fill, trying to keep deferent tones. For example; if you miss the 2H you’ll use the H with lighter strokes and then use it in its box adding one or two layers. Make sure there is a distinct deference in shade from box to box and keep the strokes facing the same direction. Think of it as the spectrum spread in shades of grey.
2. Now, it’s time to do the placing.
Observe the object and let’s try to measure it. In order to do that, you’ll use the tip of your pencil.
When you measure, you generally need to find a shape that is obvious to pick up, so you won’t miss your measurement later on if you forget it. 👉 Are there specific proportions by the object itself that you can use to divide it? This is the most preferable way, because you’ll learn to understand shapes. 👉 But, maybe there are shadows that create a clear division on it. This comes in volumes. 🔸 In any way, what you’ll do is to align your pencil over that shape — starting with the tip and at the end of it placing your fingernail to hold its length. After that, you move your pencil on the same axis to see how many times that shape fits into the object. Start either by the Y or X axis and once you find how many times it fits, try to divide your paper and fit the object on it by putting light marks for every division part and keeping it as centered as possible. Then proceed to do the same on the other axis.
👉 While doing this, hold your paper upright in front of you.
👉 Now it’s the time to connect the marks. This is the tracing phase so make as light marks and lines as possible! And as mentioned, draw the lines from your shoulder and elbow— not your wrist. The lines need to be continuous and decisive.
👉 When you finish tracing the object try to see if any side is bigger/smaller than what you see in reality.
After this stage, we’ll do the outline which will not be much darker because you’ll have to correct anything that is off. It can’t be perfect from the beginning, so keep in mind that you may need to measure again. You just need to define the line a bit more than before but it can’t be too bold. Correct the lines and begin to trace the outline. After that you’ll put in the shadows.
When you think that this is as good a transfer and positioning you’ve made as possible, we’ll start the shading process.
For the shading you’ll use as a guide the boxes we made at the beginning…
3. How to shadow.
During this process you will start by the lighter shade which you will apply to the object. 👉 White parts (extreme brightness) will not be covered, so keep in mind to shade around that (there won’t be too many spots anyway) — you can always use the eraser if you go over something however, so fear not. 👉 Your first shade should be done in one direction. 🔺 Do NOT cross-hatch the shadows. They need to be smooth. 👉 Add the second layer of shadows with a small tilt of the tip towards a slightly different direction (clockwise or counter clockwise it doesn’t matter; we only need a change in degrees like the clock hands from 12 to 1 or 12 to 11); that’ll it be enough. 👉 Keep adding layers to your shadows by slightly adjusting the tip of the pencil until you reach the darkest shade (deep black shades will also be very small areas like the light ones).
Good job! You finished your first practical exercise. That wasn’t so bad now, was it?
🔹 This exercise is best done slowly, and by this I mean take your time with getting comfortable with the pencil and making smooth faded lines throughout the week. It shouldn’t take you more than an hour daily and mainly about 15— 20 minutes. The drawing itself should not take more than an hour. There are tutors that insist on practicing everyday and doing lots of practice and exercises… 😮‍💨 but you really don’t. Not yet. First you need to train your eyes and your hands into what drawing actually is and overdoing it in the beginning may lead to learning things incorrectly or feeling burned out.
Anyway…
You have the whole week to make your first attempt at drawing something as closely to the real thing as you can. Try to recreate everything you see. The lines, the planes, the shadows on it, the shadows behind the object (I’m asking for the immediate background of the object so try to put it in front of something that is as plane as possible). 👉 If the object has too many colours/designs etc, cover it with something as plain as possible like a cloth. This’ll make it a little harder to draw, but you don’t want to be confused by anything more than shadows, volumes and shapes just yet.
🔹 You’re allowed to use only ONE paper. If you have a tablet, you can use that, too. This is you learning the basics after all, so feel free to present both your attempts.
🔺Don’t exhaust yourself, though! Like I said, this is a 1hour☝️exercise tops!
Now the technical stuff:
How this is going to work: ▶️ first of all, take a picture of the object from the same angle you’re going to draw it, so I can evaluate your try and give you tips to work on the next assignment! I’m opting for a tailor-made tutorial because everybody is different. ▶️ Then by the end of the week post the photo and your finished piece (the digital, too; if you do that) with either the specific tag or a mention at me. I want to see what you made!
There are no bad tries here, only things we’re going to learn and mistakes we’re going to fix!
Now, sketch! That’s it. That’s the exercise. Simple, right? :)
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kaitcake1289 · 2 years
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truly funny how the thoughts never stop
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writhe · 2 years
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i have been making croissants (two day process) and i just totally fucked them by letting them get too warm while proving and the butter melted. lets see what happens (-,:
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falselyprofound · 2 years
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“4) Paranoia: The investigator suffers severe paranoia for 1D10 rounds; everyone is out to get them; no one can be trusted; they are being spied on; someone has betrayed them; what they are seeing is a trick.”
Little epilogue comic to that Call of Cthulhu “oneshot” I was in. The good news is that everyone we cared about survived.
Of course we never found out what the thing in the lake was trying to accomplish. Or if rescuing Jane impeded it in any real way whatsoever. And every single cultist got away. ...And Haas may have rolled a second complete breakdown right at the end.
But hey, at least they got that reward money?
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un-pearable · 1 year
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:(((((
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batemanofficial · 2 years
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never thought that the ‘if the teacher doesn’t show up after 15 minutes we can leave’ myth would come to be true in my adult life and yet
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xoxoemynn · 2 years
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Today was such an exhausting day that honestly if Buttons told me he needed a snack I’d just let him eat me.
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xkuja · 2 years
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Sunbathes on the dash.
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tonycries · 2 months
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Unhoneymooners!? - G.S.
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Synopsis. The universe was surely playing a joke on you. Here you were, trapped on a luxury getaway with your - dangerously handsome, extremely obnoxious - ex. Either you were going to kill each other or end up pinned beneath him, split apart on his cóck. You just didn’t know what would come first.
Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, exes to lovers, unprotected, argument as foreplay, slight enemies to lovers, more like annoyances actually, cunnilingus, oral (male + female), spitting, creampié, one bed trope, rough, Satoru is still EXTREMELY down bad for you, and unfairly hot, forced proximity, cúmplay, pet names (sweetheart), swearing.
Word count. 8.5k
A/N. It’s impossible to not write Satoru without bullying him at least a little bit.
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You broke up with Gojo Satoru exactly 5 months, 2 weeks, and 16 hours ago - not that you were keeping count, of course.
So why was he outside of your resort room blasting “Kill Bill” by SZA like he’s auditioning for the world’s most dramatic comeback tour? On what should’ve marked your fourth anniversary, no less.
Well, given you were the one to lock him out, but still - the stubborn bastard could at least have some decorum. 
With an exasperated sigh, you throw yourself onto the king-sized bed of your honeymoon suite, trying to will away that annoying, grating voice - not SZA, no, more so Satoru singing along at the top of his lungs to the chorus. 
How did you even get here? And with Satoru of all people - your Satoru. Or at least he was this time a little over a year ago. 
You first met Satoru when you were in university, back when he wore those pretentious circled sunglasses and waltzed around those halls like he owned the place. And after a single literature assignment together, he wasn’t just your (self-proclaimed) best friend; he was the reluctantly favorite thorn in your side. 
Like the rest of him, Satoru’s introduction into your love-life was anything but subtle. It wasn’t like he strolled in, gave a polite nod, and blended into the background. Oh no, he bulldozed his way in and dragged you to dance with him on the tables of some dingy frat party in what you could only assume was some joke from the universe at your expense.
And damn him, you think bitterly, you couldn't resist him that night. Spinning you into a dramatic dip, silver chain brushing your face as his half-lidded eyes bored into yours. You couldn’t not kiss him after the way his hands were just searing into your skin. 
God, you’ve never been able to listen to “Gasolina” the same way ever since.  
Satoru was in love as he was in the rest of life - a force of nature, and it was too easy to find yourself caught up in him.
That night at the frat party was just the beginning. From then on was a rollercoaster of everything from heated debates over the best flavor of ramen to impromptu road trips where you’d end up under a carpet of stars. Wrapped in each other’s arms and sharing whispered secrets for an unpromised future - oftentimes where Satoru would crack a joke or two about running away to Tokyo with him. To which you’d laugh it off with a “Yeah yeah, I’d leave everything I’ve known behind in a heartbeat for your dumbass, Toru.”
You just didn’t think that it would be the downfall to your relationship. All the empty promises. 
Because as those heavenly days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, eventually two years had gone by. The whirlwind romance settled into a comfortable rhythm, but with it came the looming promise of graduation and Satoru moving to work under his family company in Tokyo.
Under pressure, it wasn’t long before the cracks began to show, the arguments more frequent, and the silences more deafening. And as your relationship slowly turned into nothing more than a husk of what it used to be - so did the both of you.
Long story short, graduation was a bittersweet goodbye - and you think both of you knew long before it was actually over. Neither of you attended the afterparty - with Satoru on a flight straight to Tokyo and you at home to stuff your face with chocolate. Hey, at least you could blame your tears on finally leaving university, right? 
You had meticulously erased his name from your phone, your social media, and even your dreams - well, almost, the bastard still came around to bother you occasionally. It was messy, painful, and final.
But “final” really didn’t explain your current predicament. Because if there’s one thing you’ve learned about Satoru is that he’s always there - whether you liked it or not. He was there when you needed a partner for that literature assignment, and he was there to turn your world upside down at that dingy frat party.
Hell, he was even there to help you stubbornly chug mountains of ice cream and win that raffle for this five day-long getaway trip to the Maldives. Though, you think he might’ve chugged the ice cream without the promise of a vacation anyway.
But, when ultimately those shiny tickets came in the mail - Satoru wasn’t there. Oh well, it might’ve been a couple’s trip - but you could have a hot girl summer, right? Maybe you could even snag a hottie by the end. You’d almost forgotten that he’d be getting his copy of the tickets as well.
Yet, unfortunately - as the beginning notes of P!nk’s “So What” bursts through the heavy wooden door - you were inevitably reminded of the fact that he was here. Right now. Goading you into coming outside.
You find yourself groaning inwardly (and outwardly) because of course, why wouldn’t he come back even more obnoxious than before? You haven’t seen him in ages, yet here he is, crashing back into your life with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer. Or - you furrow your brows at his purposefully off-key singing carrying over the sounds of the waves outside - with the subtlety of a manchild with a JBL and a premium account on Spotify.  
Rubbing your temples in frustration, you contemplate how much longer of this it would take before you’re both kicked out of this resort. And after you ate so many ice creams to win this getaway trip? No chance.
With a resigned sigh, you rise from the bed, smoothing out the bathing suit you’d just put on before the devil incarnate showed up knocking at your door. Something hot and prickly pools in your stomach as you approach it, and you can’t help but roll your eyes at the sheer absurdity of the situation. So like Satoru.
Taking a deep breath to steel yourself, you shakily reach for the handle. It’s fine. It’s not a big deal actually.
What’s the worst that can happen?
Slam! 
The door swings open, and there in all his smug glory stands a very shirtless Satoru. Gojo pain-in-your-ass Satoru, the same asshole you’ve blocked on even Gmail. 
Except, you’re momentarily struck by how high you have to raise your eyes to meet his. Are growth spurts even a thing anymore? You didn’t have a chance to take a good look last time before slamming the door shut at the first flash of white hair and a smug grin.
But right now, traitorously, your gaze catches on just how broad his shoulders look and…since when was he so chiseled? Damn you, Tokyo - you were doing him too good.
His hair is slightly longer too, curtaining those slightly more mature features, stopping just above that ever-immature grin. One which moves as he hums, “Well, happy fourth anniversary to me, If I knew this came with the suite then I’d have swam here myself.”
You scoff, suddenly feeling strangely self-conscious as he wiggles his brows, striking blue eyes sweeping your figure from head to toe. “I’d prefer if you swam back. What are you doing?” 
“Why, just showing up to our room on our lil’ honeymoon, sweetheart.” Satoru sing-songs, leaning against the doorframe to fully prevent you from slamming the door in his (admittedly) pretty face again. “And before you try to break my nose with that door again, I won that ticket here fair and square, y’know. I ate just as much ice cream as you did for it.”
“You ate most of those before you knew about the getaway raffle.” you sigh over his nonchalant shrug, pinching your nose, “And stop calling it our honeymoon, I dumped you five months ago.”
“Well aren’t you just the gift that keeps on giving. Keeping count?”
“No. Don’t be a pest.”
“Always thought you had a thing for pests. After all, you did date me.” As Satoru grins impossibly wider, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. He winks, “And if I’m a pest then you’re an itch that just won’t go away.”
“At least I’m not the itch that shows up uninvited to someone’s honeymoon suite.” you hiss. And with that you start shutting the door ever-so-slowly, delighting in the panic that overtakes Satoru’s features as he reaches out frantically.
“Hey!” he sputters, “I didn’t know you’d be here! And besides this ‘pest’ forgot his slippers all the way in Tokyo and can’t stand on flaming-hot boardwalks for too long so let me in.”
And sure enough, you glance down to see that Satoru isn’t wearing any slippers on the scorching boardwalk. The realization almost brings a smirk to your lips. This idiot. 
“Wow.”
“‘Wow’ at my feet or-”
“I should leave you here to rot just for your pure idiocy.” you deadpan, eyes locked on the way he’s burning his soles off yet still has the audacity to flash you a cocky smile.
“But you won’t.” he hums.
A beat passes. One. Two. And Satoru’s grin almost falters, before you finally relent - opening the door just a crack, cursing his entire bloodline under your breath. “You’re incorrigible” you mutter as he saunters inside victoriously, dragging his hefty luggage behind.
“Why change perfection, sweetheart~” he calls out, heading straight for the bedroom, only to let out a delighted “OooOOo” at the sight of the king-sized bed in the middle. The only bed. “How scandalous, maybe you’ll even fall in lov-” 
“Don’t. I’d rather gouge my eyes out with a seashell.” you warn, holding up both keycards threateningly, “I get the bed, you take the couch.”
“But-”
“And I’ve got the keys, so slippers or not you’ll be back out on that boardwalk.” 
A slight smile tugging at the corners of your lips at the way Satoru looked so dramatically crestfallen, you continue - just to be petty, “And no more ‘Kill Bill’ that’s on my angry ex playlist.”
With a heavy sigh he sulkily makes his way to the bathroom, calling out as he does, “Fine. But I’m showering first.”
As he disappears from sight you throw yourself onto your bed, basking in what little peace and quiet you’ll have because of your unwanted guest. This was going to be a-
“And I’m using all of your body lotions.”
“...”
“I will use one of your body lotions.”
Groaning, you sink into the plush mattress, just wishing it would swallow you whole and spare you from this torment. And this was only Day 1? This was going to be a very long five days. 
---
The first night with Satoru, honestly, wasn’t too bad. 
You don’t know what you expected exactly - maybe for him to pour hair dye in your shampoo or something. But he actually stuck to his word, slept on the couch after only a bit of taunting, and used only one of your body lotions. Your best-smelling, most expensive one, but one nonetheless.
Feeling slightly more optimistic, you spent most of the second day at the beach, meanwhile he stuck to lounging by the pool. Add in a bit of pretending you didn’t know him by the salad bar at dinner and that made for an almost-perfect hot girl summer. 
Well, considering that you were rooming with your insufferable longtime ex - in a honeymoon suite of all places. 
The only catch came that night, fully content at the burning soreness from being pushed around by the waves outside. You got ready to splay out on your bed, humming along to the tunes of your playlist and…Satoru’s lamenting?
“I swear my back feels like it’s been run over by a truck. Five of them, and a zoo.” he complains from behind you, dramatically draping himself over the couch - his impromptu bed. 
“Good.”
“What if that was my last straw?”
“Even better.”
His exaggerated, disappointed whine is both embarrassing and almost-endearing as you roll your eyes, resisting the urge to suffocate him with a pillow. “Maybe call your chiropractor guy.”
Satoru shot you a pointed look, his expression a mixture of faux innocence and irritation, which you knew too well. “I wish but he’s trekking through the Himalayas. C’mon~ Don’t you think that lovely king-sized bed is too big for just one?”
“No, but the boardwalk sure is. Maybe you should try it out.” you monotone, getting ready to end this conversation once and for all. 
But when has Satoru ever let you off easy? He sits up abruptly, a devious smile curling his lips. “Ohh, I get it.” he taunts, batting his long lashes mockingly, “You’re scared to sleep in the same bed with me.”
Huh?
“Out of all the idiotic-” you cut yourself off by whirling around to face his smug grin, “Why would I be scared to sleep in a bed with you. I’ve done that far too many times already.”
“Exactly,” he chuckles. “And all those times you could barely last an hour before without keeping your hands off of me. Scared you’ll end up pinned underneath me and stuffed full like old times, sweetheart?”
You narrow your eyes at him despite the heat burning your face. “The only thing I’m scared of is your icicle feet on my side.”
He laughs, a sound that’s equal parts irritating and endearing, and stands up from where he was slumped on the couch. Making his way slowly, but surely towards you, “Oh, c’mon. For old times’ sake, admit it, you miss me.”
"Yeah, missed the peace and quiet I don’t have because of your big mouth,” you scoff. Finding it hard to meet his twinkling gaze as he comes close enough that you’re toe to toe with him. Your cheeks burn at the proximity - hot enough to match the heat radiating off his body. 
Satoru shakes his head, undeterred by your threats. And suddenly you get the overwhelming urge to throw him out the window and straight into the ocean. “You can deny it all you want, but you still have feelings for me.”
Your jaw clenches at his audacity. “You wish. I’d never.”
“Then prove it.”
Damn, he was good.
Which is probably how you found yourself lying in the same bed as Satoru, with a wall of all the pillows in the room erected between you two - and a few extra from room service just in case. 
“Sweetheart, this is a king-sized bed. Is the fortress really necessary?”
You wrap your blankets tighter around yourself, trying to ignore the figure radiating warm right next to you. Muttering out a muffled little, “Yeah, so you can keep your mitts off of me.”
Satoru groans dramatically, bed creaking as he shuffles what you can only assume to be closer to you. “You keep your mitts off of me, you lecher.” he quips, voice dripping with sarcasm as he inches closer.
You stiffen at his proximity, feeling his warmth seep through the layers of blankets and pillows as he chuckles softly, the sound sending shivers down your spine, “Oh, come on, don’t be like that. We used to share a bed all the time.”
“That was before,” you interject. God, you didn’t like where this conversation was going. 
“Before what?” Satoru presses, his voice low and insistent. 
Now, you might’ve let yourself be goaded into sharing a bed but these were old wounds better off left alone. You hiss, tone firm, “Before. Now sleep” 
Before when you didn’t have to make a wall of pillows. Before when he would hold you tight and whisper sweet secrets into your ear. That he’d buy you the biggest ring he saw and promise you the world. Before- 
“I missed you, y’know.” Satoru breaks the silence barely audible over the sound of your own thoughts. The word pangs through your mind and claws at your chest. And at your silence he continues, tone a little lighter, “And stop hogging all the blankets, I’m gonna freeze to-”
“Boardwalk.”
“My apologies, ma’am. Goodnight, ma’am.”
And he sinks back into his pillow with a huff, you let out a sigh of relief. Something hot coiling in your stomach as you close try to catch as much sleep as you possibly could with the bane of your existence laying right beside you. The suddenly taller, dangerously handsome, still as-obnoxious-as-ever bane of your existence. 
You just wonder if he remembered “before”.
Oh, how Satoru remembered “before”. So much so that he had sixteen different playlists dedicated to you even after the breakup.
It’s divine punishment - it has to be. Satoru thinks there’s no reasonable explanation for the series of unfortunate events happening to him other than punishment from his ancestors above for being such a pussy and losing the love of his life.
First he forgets his slippers, then he ends up locked out of his own honeymoon suite by said love of his life. Granted, all thoughts of his poor burnt soles went out the window the moment he caught a glimpse of you in that positively sinful bikini. God, were you glowing. A goddess upon Earth - he could really give the Gojo Satoru of five months ago a good, hard kick.
And now he’s stuck in a - very comfortable - prison with you just inches away, tossing and turning in that way he knows means that you can’t sleep either. 
Honestly, very funny universe, the great Gojo Satoru demands a refund. Way to punk’d him into confronting the feelings he’s desperately been trying to bury these past few months - ever since he got on that plane to Tokyo and contemplated faking a heart attack just to get off. 
Realizing just then that he lost the love of his life - and the only woman who’d tolerate his karaoke nights. But with that realization came another, more jarring one: he was too late. 
Every touch, every laugh, and even every time you rolled your eyes was etched into his very soul, and it felt like a montage from a sappy breakup movie directed by a sadistic screenwriter who had it out for him. 
And it really didn’t help that this was the exact suite he was planning once upon a time to propose in. God, how you’d feed him to the crabs if he said anything about that - nevermind the fact that he was actually one that booked this-
But still, some traitorous, annoying part of his heart interrupts, she still hasn’t made you sleep on the boardwalk yet.
Maybe - just maybe - he’ll wake up to a second chance?
Ha. As if.
“I can’t sleep.” Satoru groans out loud, more so to drown out his own thoughts than anything.
“Well, I can. Goodnight.”
Ah, his girl was such a lil’ liar. Undeterred, the mattress creaks as he shuffles his weight to excitedly face you, taking a moment to admire how pretty you looked under the dim moonlight. He plows on, “Hey, if you promise not to make me crab food, wanna walk along the beach and watch the stars?”
A beat of silence. One. Two. so deafening and tense that Satoru was half a second away from obnoxiously laughing it off as a joke and pulling out his Emo Times™ playlist. 
“Or I can go back to the couch and-”
“Shut up. Let’s watch the stars, Satoru.”
But what do you know - maybe the universe hasn’t given up on him just yet. 
And, well, if he woke up the next morning breaching your fortress - your warm breath tickling his neck and his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, like the lifeline he never knew he needed - then, neither of you mentioned it.
---
“Hey, Satoru. You think we’ll always be like this?” you hum into your boyfriend’s chest, barely a whisper as the looming fears of, well, everything ring in your mind. 
He pulls you close, flashing a mischievous grin before planting a dramatic kiss on the top of your head. “Duh, I’ll always be around to drive you dangerously close to a stroke, sweetheart.” 
You roll your eyes, yet bury yourself closer to his warmth anyway.
“Besides, it doesn’t matter if I have to drag you by the leg to Tokyo. Wherever you are is where I belong. ”
---
You’ve come to learn that a resort island is only so big when you’re actively trying to avoid your 6’3 manchild of an ex.
Now that you were rooming with Satoru, sleeping with Satoru (in a literal sense only, of course), and just-so-happening to bump into him at the beach - somehow, talking with him is a little easier, his presence just a bit more exciting than you’d care to admit. 
If the you of four days ago could see what had become of you, then she’d probably slap some sense into you faster than you could say “Kill Bill”. Sleeping in the same bed (still only literally), having dinner, watching the stars - with Gojo Satoru? You’ve gone completely off your rocker. 
But could you really be blamed? These last few days have you feeling like maybe you’ve been dropped into an alternate universe, where you and Satoru never broke up. 
Yet, reality is a persistent little bastard. And with the end of your trip looming dangerously closer, the past you would be cackling mockingly in your face, flashing a large sign in big, red letters reading “I TOLD you so.” 
Whatever. Maybe by this time tomorrow both of you could laugh this all off as a silly little adventure and call yourself somewhat begrudging friends. Maybe you’d even end up unblocking him by the end - on Gmail, at least.
At the very least, dinnertime was a solace - both from your thoughts and the smug bastard talking your ear off about how he could “make that spaghetti better than a thousand Italian grandmothers.”
Until the fourth - and final - night, that is. When the resort, deciding that your current torture wasn’t already enough, arranged a special candlelit dinner. A romantic one. By the beach. With Satoru of all people. 
Great. Wonderful. Perfect, in fact. Going out with a bang. Was this really part of the all-inclusive package? It was like the universe was playing some twisted joke on you - or some awful version of wingmanning. 
You grit your teeth silently as you’re ushered to the beachside table, thoughts barely audible over the waves crashing against the shore and the soft, romantic music drifting from the band nearby. 
The complete opposite of Satoru, who was already seated at the table and enjoying himself far too much for your liking. He lounged back in his chair, a self-satisfied smirk playing on his lips as he watched you sit opposite him uncomfortably.
You hated to admit it - but God was he dangerously beautiful in that crisp white button-up, one that you knew was from his overpriced collection for special occasions. You found yourself fighting to avoid the amber hues twinkling in his eyes as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting warm shadows that bring out his pretty features.
Pretty? So frighteningly pretty - until he speaks, that is.
“And here I thought our honeymoon couldn’t get any worse. You’re sweating bullets, sweetheart. This your first date with me or something?”
“We’re not on a honeymoon, Satoru. And no, it just brings back memories.” you scoff. Relishing in the way he inches his chair closer to listen, clearly not expecting this sudden sentimentality. “Memories of why I blocked you on every social media.”
All but slamming his head down on the table, Satoru whines out, “Ouch, straight for the jugular. That mouth is still as bitchy as ever, huh? Though I do prefer it choking on my-”
“I’m going to throw you into the ocean.”
“Ooo, kinky~” he hums, swirling his wine glass, “But you know what this reminds me of? That one time we had dinner under the stars.”
You froze, the memories suddenly flashing back to you despite your best efforts to suppress them. “Oh yeah,” you muse. A chuckle leaving your mouth despite yourself, “Wasn’t that where you spilled ketchup all over your shirt and then insisted it was a fashion statement?”
He leans in closer, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Hey! It worked, didn’t it? I got compliments from everyone including you.”
“I was just trying to stop you from bursting into tears.” you roll your eyes, shaking your head at the memory. 
“Exactly, sweetheart. Like moths to a flame.”
“More like to a bug-zapper.”
Satoru throws his head back and laughs, loud and unabashed. A sound that echoes across the beach and makes something warm and sticky strum at your heartstrings. And at that moment, that stupid, little part of you didn’t even mind that you were at a special candlelit dinner. A romantic one. By the beach. With Satoru of all people. 
And he didn’t even have to goad you into it with SZA this time.
As the orange glow of the setting sun melded into the cool blue of the night, it almost felt like slipping back into an old routine. The food had long since been finished. Jabs and shared memories flowing through the air like the gentle waves lapping at the shore.
The cool air was now thick with contentment and something so unknown yet so familiar that it made your heart race. 
 “I swear.” you groan over Satoru’s loud cackles, “He tried to charm his way out of the bill by flirting with the waitress. In front of me.”
Satoru doubles over, clutching his stomach as he laughs uproariously. “Classic move! If he’s going to be a cheapskate then he should’ve at least been successful with it.”
Damn, was he eternally grateful for these dim candles. Otherwise you’d surely have caught the rosy flushing tinting his cheeks. How dare you sit there so gorgeous and perfect in front of him. Perfect for him - you haven’t changed one bit.
“Right? She looked ready to fling us both out.” You chuckle, eyes catching on the little dimple just at the corner of his mouth as Satoru shoots you a sly grin. “Mhm, I know if it were me I would’ve charmed us out of the bill successfully.”
You raise a brow, retorting, “Oh please. I’ve had the pleasure of being on the receiving end of that ‘charm’. You’d probably end up charming us into washing dishes in the kitchen.” 
Ah, right now, he doesn’t think he wants to be anywhere but here - bickering with you. 
“Ouch, you wound me, woman!” Satoru feigns offense, placing a hand over his heart dramatically before leaning down to whisper, low and conspiratorial, “Besides, I doubt you even remember what pleasure feels like since being with me.”
A thrill goes down your spine as you realize the insinuation of his words, steady and searing - matching that of  Satoru’s fingers on yours - which had snuck their way across the table, lazily tracing patterns along your skin. 
When did they even get there? Sly bastard.
Your mouth drops into a soft oh! at the dangerous glint in his eyes. But you refuse to back down, “Don’t flatter yourself, Satoru. I’ve had other guys make me cum much harder than you have.”
Touch burning. Mapping every curve and dip he’d known so well, and this time - you graze them back. A challenge. God, you missed that warm little flutter in your chest. 
That seems to catch him by surprise, as those darkened blue eyes widen. But there’s a dangerous edge to his grin as he purrs, voice low. “Is that so?” 
And with that, Satoru’s chair is scraping softly against the sand as he stands up, “C’mon, you’re gonna regret that, sweetheart.”
Oh. 
Satoru knows that it’s been 5 months, 4 weeks, and 8 hours since you two lasted an entire dinner civilly - not that he was counting, duh.
So when he begged the resort staff into setting the two of you up on this special candlelit dinner, he was expecting you to drown him in the lobster tank halfway through or at least end the night with a slap. 
What he certainly did not expect was to end dinner with you shoved against the closed door of your suite, legs wrapped impossibly tight around his waist, and lips trailing hot, openmouthed kisses down your neck. He angles your neck, body pressing so impossibly close to yours.
Inwardly, you curse his button-up for being so goddamn thin that you could feel his abs rub against you with every little movement. Toned chest rumbling as he groans at your hands tugging at those soft locks - just a tiny revenge, for your body lotion. 
“S-Satoru,” you whisper, and he breathes it in with an almost-pained sigh - not wanting to part for even a second. Because fuck it took so long to get you back and he wasn’t going to waste a single moment. 
Pulling just a hair’s breadth away, “Tell me what you want. Always knew we’d end up-”
“Just shut up and kiss me, you smug bastard.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
And, well, who was he to deny you? So he does. 
His lips are searing on yours, hasty and greedy. With a tinge of something so painfully familiar. Your hands make their way onto his chest, feeling the thundering heartbeat against your fingertips - matching that of yours. 
Sweet. You tasted so sweet. Just like honey, and all the dreams where he didn’t leave you behind. Where he didn’t get on that damned plane but instead ran to you all the way from the airport like those sappy romcoms you love. 
He licks at the seam of your lips, drinking in your gasps as he intertwines his tongue with yours. Kissing you like he’ll never be able to again. Because, God, knowing his luck - he probably won’t. 
One hand cups your cheek so gently - a tenderness that doesn’t translate to his lips as he kisses you deeper. Meanwhile the other wanders the expanse of your body, leaving a burning trail of fire in their wake.
Satoru parts with a playful nip to your bottom lip - and before you realize what’s happening, the zipper hits the ground. He’s ripping your pretty dress off - mumbling something about “buying a new one” before large hands surge forward, groping and kneading your tits.
His mouth waters at the sight of your bra. Light blue - to match his eyes. “You evil, evil woman.” he mutters into the soft valley of your breasts as you giggle delightedly. Oh, how he couldn’t get enough of you.
And if there was ever a moment that Satoru thinks he could cream his pants right there, then this would be at the very top, followed very closely by the sight of that withering glare you shot after opening that suite door to him just a few days ago.
He unhooks your bra with one hand, throwing it blindly across the room as if it killed him to see you clothed. 
Immediately, Satoru drops to his knees with the desperation of a madman, coming face-to face with the heavenly sight of your clothed cunt, soaking through your thin panties. 
“Didn’t specify where I had to kiss, sweetheart.”
Your gaze pierces through him, as it always did. “What are you-” Your words get choked up in your throat as his tongue darts out. Licking a long, languid stripe over your clothed cunt. 
“Shit. So sweet f’me, jus’ like I remember. Just one taste and I feel like m’gonna cum in my pants.” Satoru groans, urgently sliding your wet panties down your quivering legs. 
“F-flattery won’t work.” you stammer out as his hot breath fans your quivering entrance as he waits just a second - one, two.
Drinking in the view of your pretty pussy with dazed, half-lidded eyes. Wet - so wet, he almost wants to tease you - just a bit, to see if you’ll get even wetter. Ah, he doesn’t have enough time to take in this view - probably never will. Would it ruin the mood if he took a picture?
“Oh, I’d say it worked pretty well.”
Cock twitching carnally, Satoru needed to taste you now. He immediately surges forward. Breathing you in so sinfully, pooling your juices on his tongue. Eyes rolling to the back of his head as he tips his head back back back to let it slide down his throat. 
Shit, if you were the forbidden fruit then he would gladly be cast out of the garden of Eden. 
Half-delirious thoughts running through his mind, Satoru flattens his tongue across your swollen folds. Leisurely sliding between them, catching on your throbbing clit up and down up and down up and-
“Oh- hngh, Satoru faster-”
“So bossy.” he hums prettily around your swollen clit, the vibrations stimulating it just right. But of course, what his girl wants, she will get. 
Lewd squelches and your mewls of his name ring in the heady room as he speeds up his ministrations. Rolling his tongue harshly along your clit, sucking so sensually. Licking at your sweet cunt, dipping just into your sloppy hole. 
You almost miss the long fingers that deftly slide their way up your thigh, spreading your folds with his thumbs. A low groan sounds at the back of his throat as your walls flutter so sinfully around nothing - aching for more friction. 
Urgently, Satoru bullies his fingers past your folds, sinking deep into your plushy walls as his tongue continues its abuse. So warm and wet around him. Curling his fingers just right.
“Ah- fuck, Satoru- Feels s’good.” you gasp as he starts thrusting his fingers back and forth. A ruthless pace that has tears stinging your eyes, hitting that spot over and over and-
“Oh yeah? Thought you didn’t like my ‘big mouth’?” he purrs, muffled around your clit, “Look at you, sweetheart, now falling apart cos’ of it.”
You scoff, fingers tangling in his silky hair, pushing him deeper into your dripping pussy - mostly because you needed it, but somewhat because you really needed him to shut up. “Yeah, I like it better when you shut the fuck up.”
And with a dark chuckle, his mouth is back on your cunt. Your slick glossy and dripping down the corner of his mouth as he alternates between sucking unforgivingly on your ravaged clit and fucking into you at the same time as his fingers. 
And in the delicious stretch of your cunt, you barely register the metallic clinking of a belt before Satoru presses his clothed erection into you.
Shit. You clench so obscenely around his tongue at the feeling of his clothed, painfully hard and throbbing against your leg. Fuck - as big as you remember. You weren’t gonna be able to walk for a while.
“You like this, huh?” he murmurs, speeding up the rhythm of his fingers. Vibrations sending white-hot jolts of pleasure down your spine.
Cracking an eye open you risk a glance downward. Greedily eyeing the hand wrapped tightly around the base, moving up up up. Pumping in small, jerky movements at the same pace of his fingers fucking into you. “Like the way m’getting off to tonguefucking my girl?”
“Like thinking about how this is what I thought about all those lonely fucking night without you?” You arch into his touch, fingers searing on his scalp and angling Satoru just right to make your knees weak. 
He’s so close that you can feel the precum smearing onto your leg. Mouth fucking you in a way you knew he wanted to with his cock right now. Rough and unrelenting. 
“Like thinking about how you’re all I can fucking think about.”
“Hngh- Yes, Satoru! Yes-” 
You see stars as you cum - or maybe those were the tears in your eyes. Pulling Satoru impossibly closer to your quivering pussy so that you could ride out your high on his pretty face. And he readily accepts it - letting himself be handled roughly with the conviction of a man that wouldn’t mind dying if it was suffocating in-between your pretty thighs. 
Your vision is hazy, blood still roaring in your ears as Satoru stands up. Not even bothering to wipe away the wet trail of your slick prettily glossing his lips before capturing yours in a searing kiss. 
“Y’know, sweetheart,” he gasps in between heated kisses. “We got a king-sized bed so we better make use of it, hm?”
Your back hits the mattress before you can even react. Reeling from shock and the audacity as you bounce at the sheer force of his throw. 
“Next time you do that you’re-” 
Whatever insult at the tip of your tongue melts away immediately at the purely pornographic sight of Satoru stalking his way towards you from the foot of the bed. Eyes hooded, cock rock-hard, kiss-bitten lips parted slightly in a way that was so fucked-out.
Unhurriedly approaching you with such a predatory glint in his darkened eyes as he fucks his fist slowly - so agonizingly slowly. Eyes locked on you.
Despite cumming not even minutes before, your pussy jumps in anticipation. Immediately reaching over as soon as he’s close enough - as if in a trance - to replace his hand with yours. 
He was big - so mouthwateringly big. Flushed your favorite shade of pink at his leaking tip, pulsing veins glistening in the dim light - every part of Satoru was so unfairly pretty.
So hot and heavy in your hand as you pump him at a steady, methodical pace. Precum smearing on your palm, trailing down your wrist as you pump. Tighter on the base, thumbing teasingly under his slit the way you knew he used to like. 
“Oh fuck, sweetheart. Still remember, huh?” he hisses lowly. Ah, the way he still likes. 
“Mhm.” you hum absentmindedly, thighs clenching together at the way his hips grind in shallow, mindless little motions into your soft hand. Meeting your strokes as if trying to fuck something so delicious out of him.
And, well, you just couldn’t resist a taste. Bending down in one, fluid motion to delicately lick at his angry, hard head. Slightly salty taste on your tongue as you swipe at the droplets of precum pooling on his tip. Tracing lightly - ever-so-lightly - down his prominent veins. 
Satoru groans, low and hoarse with desire, “Shit, hah- you don’ ngh- have to-”
“Shut up, Satoru.” 
And with that, you’re shoving down as much as you can of his throbbing erection down your throat. Cunt clenching at the way he hardens impossibly as you choke and gag around him.
“Shit, oh- Oh fuck, m’girl. Yes yes yes-.” Satoru lets out a guttural moan. Fingers threading through your hair as he uses it as leverage to fuck himself slowly, deeper and deeper into your heavenly mouth. Hips stuttering and jerky with pleasure. Yeah, he definitely missed this. 
Half-delirious and cock-drunk, you take him all the way till your nose was buried in the tufts of white at his toned pelvis, already so wet with saliva and precum. 
Still got it, some smug, utterly debauched part of yourself titters. 
It was dizzying, the way he was pulsing in your throat, his heady scent filling your senses. Beginning to move up and down up and down in hasty, desperate bobs of your head. Pulling such lewd gasps and moans from his lips. 
You moan around Satoru’s thick cock, clawing at his toned hips for some semblance of stability. Some truly animalistic part of yourself relishing in the neat, red lines down his milky skin. The sight hazy through the tears that spring to your eyes at the way his fat tip hits your abused throat. A relentless, sinful tempo you were steadily losing your mind to.
Messy.  It was so fucking messy.
You just wondered if his orgasm would be the same…
But, alas, one can’t always get what they want. Because Satoru pulls you off of his achingly hard cock with a lewd pop! that rings in his ears and makes your cunt twitch. 
“Shit, sweetheart. Any longer and I’ll have to start thinking about ol’ Prof. Gakuganji to not cum.” he pants through ragged breaths, flashing you a deceptively innocent grin. “Now, lay back and spread ‘em f’me and let me see if your pretty pussy can still handle me.”
And that you don’t argue with. 
It’s almost embarrassing - the way you scramble desperately to sink back into the mattress. Letting Satoru manhandle your legs open so shamefully for him, throwing them over his muscled shoulders. But that’s a problem for the future, not lust-drunk you. 
Right now you couldn’t give less of a fuck as his hungry gaze locks on your glistening pussy. Pausing for just a split-second before spitting once. Twice. Thrice onto your waiting cunt. Making you feel more and more like an object as the warm saliva mixes obscenely with your slick, trickling down to form such a sinful pool on the sheets below. 
And you liked it.
Almost as much as you loved the way Satoru drags his tip along your swollen folds, catching so maddeningly on your clit. Teasingly pooling your slick on his leaking head. It was so sloppy. And too slow. 
“Satoru, I’ve waited five months too long for this. If you’re going to fuck me then fuck me like you mean it.” you grit out, frustration and pure need boiling over within you. 
“Oh? So it’s like that, huh?” 
And maybe you were a mastermind, maybe you were an idiot - probably both. Because Satoru immediately pushes in one, long thrust into your dripping cunt. Your words catch pathetically in your throat as he loses grip on whatever semblance of restraint he had - or his sanity - whichever one would break you first. 
Fuck, it feels so heavenly. Oh, how you missed him.
Bowing his body down down down till his damp forehead met yours. Folding you completely underneath him in the way you’ve found that only the smug bastard, Gojo Satoru can. 
You could almost sob at the stretch as he presses in - deliciously painful, borderline insane, and exactly what you’d been trying to deny that you’d been craving all these past five months. Being split apart on his throbbing cock, feeling like you were about to be absolutely devoured underneath him. 
It seems Satoru was just as needy for you, hot and throbbing agonizingly inside you, each little bump bump bump against your walls matching that of your heart thundering against your chest. 
Or was that Satoru’s? At this point you couldn’t even tell. 
“Oh, god yes-, jus’ like that ah shit shit shit-”
“This what you wanted, yeah?” A low growl leaves his throat at how sinfully your walls were milking him as he pulls back. All the way till his leaking tip was just innocently kissing your sloppy hole - only to ram his cock all the way back into your snug cunt. “To be split apart on my cock?” 
Shit, he could just about pass out right now with the way your cunt was sucking him in so greedily like she never wanted to part. 
Guess she missed him too, he thinks deliriously. Not even having to think about it as he starts fucking into you in shallow, mindless little thrusts. Pushing himself deeper and deeper into your plushy cunt. 
“Äh- fuck, yeah. S’all I’ve wanted.” you mewl, feeling so vulnerable and exposed under the hungry eyes boring into yours. A dark gleam in them as he grins, “Then take it back.”
Disoriented, you gasp out a strangled, “What?” before Satoru’s hips become rougher, chasing his high as much as yours. 
“What you said at dinner.” your lips fall into a soft oh! as you realize just what he’s talking about, “Admit that no man makes you cum as hard as I do.”
God, you don’t think you could answer even if you wanted to, choking on the harsh, purposeful movements of his hips just to fuck your soul out. 
Heavy balls stinging your skin, the lewd sounds of skin-on-skin fills the heady air. Driving you to insanity. An absolutely unforgiving cadence that has the bed creaking in protest. Ah, whatever, he could buy them a new one anyway if this one just so happens to break.
“Take it back yet?” He had to break you first though.
Slick gushes out of your heated cunt, dripping down his length and pooling at his heavy balls, stinging your ass at each merciless thrust. “No.” 
A large hand hastily makes its way down to draw rough, frenzied little circles on your throbbing clit. Voice strangled, sweat beading on his forehead, thrusts becoming increasingly sloppier. “How about now?”
“Ah- hngh- oh fuck. Satoru!” You could only moan softly in response, broken whimpers leaving you each time his tip kissed your cervix. Angling his hips just right to expertly brush against that one spot he knew so well would have you keening and bucking up into his cock. Your face almost burns at the sheer familiarity of it all. This bastard knew you too well. 
And something about that made such an uncomfortable, prickly feeling pool in your stomach. 
Something which you knew would only be sated if you looped your arms around his neck. Nails digging into his sculpted back as you pulled him impossibly closer.
Kissing his flushed cheeks as he murmurs, “Take it back, sweetheart.”
Despite the thick cock splitting you in half till you probably couldn’t walk tomorrow morning, you find it in yourself to huff out a soft laugh at the way Satoru’s tone teetered on just that endearing side of sulky. “Fine. You win, Toru.” you whisper into his lips,
And then you’re cumming. White-hot pleasure flashing behind your eyes and Satoru’s lips gently slotting against yours as he fucked you through your high. Acting as if the fucked-out whimper of his nickname is one he’ll never forget. 
As if he couldn’t cum simply from hearing it leave your pretty lips. And he does, shooting thick, hot ropes of cum painting your plushy walls white with a raw groan of your name. It oozes out of your cunt and onto the mess of sheets below as he fucks his seed into you as a lover would. As he would. 
It was intoxicating - everything from the way you milked his cock so sinfully, to the arms tight around his shoulders. Pulling him close, running soothingly along his skin as Satoru collapses onto you with a final, fucked-out thrust. 
And despite being a lightweight, Satoru’s never been so easily drunk off of something than he was off of you. God how he missed this - how he missed you. 
So much so that he can’t put it into words - and probably won’t ever be able to. But it’s alright, because your sticky body snug against his, and Satoru arms tenderly around your waist - but you didn’t mind. Both of you understood.
Satoru traces his fingers lazily along your side, neither of you bothering to tackle the mammoth task of cleaning up for now. Each movement slow and gentle, as if any sudden movement might shatter the delicate balance between you. 
All is quiet in your little haven, and you could almost fall asleep. The most contented one you’ve had in a while - 5 months, 3 weeks, and 7 hours ago to be exact.
But, of course, Satoru can’t keep his mouth shut for nothing. You jolt out of your reverie as he hastily tries to stifle the startled laugh that huffs out of him. Your dazed eyes meet his in the dim lighting, raising a brow in question.
“It’s just…” he starts, voice soft, “You still call me Toru. Feels like home.”
Ah.
You find yourself chuckling softly with him. Heat rushing to your cheeks, burying yourself deeper into his warm chest, to hide the embarrassingly flustered smile breaking out across your face if anything. 
Chuckling, Satoru shifts closer, touch now feather-light against your cheek, tracing the line of your jaw with his fingertips. Faltering ever-so-slightly as you mutter out, “Happy anniversary, by the way. I didn’t say it earlier because someone was being a public menace.”
“Hey! It’s not my fault that someone locked me out of my own honeymoon suite.” he laughs, drinking in your pretty lil’ smile. 
Ah, you were perfect. As you always were. Satoru can’t help but utter out a little, “Hey, if I tell you something absolutely stupid, would you promise not to make me fish food?”
“Absolutely not.”
He knew you’d say that. So he flashes you an easy grin, a hint of nervousness in it that he’s sure you see through - you always do. 
“So…” he begins, “First thing’s first, I’m thinking of expanding my father’s company further overseas and it might just so happen that I’m leading the branch development and get to pick where exactly.”
God, you made him feel like such a teenager. At your stunned silence, Satoru could barely raise his eyes to meet yours as he plows on, stumbling so uncharacteristically over his words, “You, I picked where you are.”
You’re breathless, words barely audible as his sinks in. “What? Toru that’s-”
“And don’t be mad but you kinda sorta didn’t-win-the-raffle-so-instead-I-planned-this-getaway-when-we-were-together.”
Any and every trace of breathless euphoria leaves your tone as you narrow your eyes at the very guilty Satoru beside you. Fidgeting under your intense scrutiny. Finally - after what seems like an eternity - you find your senses after his whiplash-inducing information dump. 
A hand immediately shoots out to squeeze his side, right where you knew he was dangerously ticklish.
“You sneaky little-” you scold over his laughed out yells of, “Mercy! No murder on our honeymoon!” squirming helplessly beneath you.
“I can’t believe you let me chug all that ice cream.”
“Exactly- hah- help! You w-would’ve been so sad that you ah- didn’t win.” he manages to choke out under your attack.
Finally relenting, only once you’re sure he’ll be feeling the burn of laughter until your flight tomorrow, you release him from your grasp. A satisfied smirk playing on your lips as you lean in close. “You’re lucky I still love you, you smug bastard” you deadpan.
“Aww, you beat me to it.” Satoru whines. Yet he reaches out to cup your cheek, “And I love you,” words hanging in the air like a promise. “With every fiber of my being.”
You let yourself be begrudgingly pulled into his embrace again, hands caressing along your skin like the highest form of worship. Satoru sighs out a contented, “Best honeymoon ever.” 
But of course, you couldn’t help but bully your idiotic boyfriend. “This is not a honeymoon, Toru.” you mutter into his heated skin.
He only presses you closer to him. Yeah maybe not, fingers deftly dancing along your left hand. But maybe next time. 
“Wanna watch the stars and tell me all about that branch development?”
“Of course, sweetheart, but first can you at least unblock me on Gmail now?”
“...”
You broke up with Gojo Satoru exactly 5 months, 3 weeks, and 12 hours ago. And as for how long it’s been since he won you back - well, you think it might just be one of the few things you didn’t keep count of.
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A/N. Based on my vacay at Lily Beach except I didn’t meet my future husband there :0
Plagiarism not authorized.
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