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nanaslutt · 6 months

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What do u think of Gojo begging you to give him a handjob and promising he wont cum during NNN but surprise surprise he fails so u ruin his orgasm 🤯

I think YES???? this was insanely fun to write, tysm for the ask nonnie<33

tell me why i forgot nnn was a thing LOLLL

contains: fem reader, crack, handjobs, whiney!satoru, established relationship, cumming handsfree, ruined orgasm, failed edging, begging, gojo calls you 'ma'am ' once as a joke, 'baby' and 'princess' used for reader

2k words :p

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

"Baby pleeeeease." gojo whines, laying his head on your knees from where he sits between your legs on the carpeted floor,

"Satoru, you were just begging me last month to not let you cum during November no matter what." you sighed, he does this every year, making you swear up and down that you'll hold him accountable and not let him lose NNN, hearing from geto that if you last the whole month, the orgasm on December first was mind-numbing

of course, he wouldn't know, becasue every year he came crawling to you about how stupid this challenge was, barely a week into the challenge, and he was dragging you to the nearest surface and fucking you against it, filling your guts with his cum,

but not this time, miraculously he had held out this long, only eight days before the challenge was over. he of course had you to thank for thank, deep down you knew he really did want to complete this challenge, and thats why he was so insistant every time the dreaded month came around.

but Satoru was a slut for pleasure, especially for the kind of pleasure he got from you. Whether it was your hands, mouth, cunt, he could get off using any part of your body and he would be the happiest man on earth

"I won't cum, swear, just miss your hands on me baby pleeeease," he practically cried, hugging onto your knees, turning his face into your skin whining and groaning like a spoiled child,

"Toru, you and I both know you do not have enough self-restraint to just edge yourself," knowing him better than himself

together, you guys have tried edging, Satoru never being able to make it past the first time you stopped right before he came, once again saying how stupid this was, quickly fucking his cock back into you and bringing himself to the brink of orgasm using your body, cumming with no restraint, even though he was once again the one who brought the idea to you,

"I'm starting to think you might have commitment issues," you mumble under your breath, his fake cries and obnoxious pouting pulling you out of your thoughts, phone dropping by your side, looking down at him with a huff,

"Please, all you gotta do is rub my cock a little, just for a second please," he drags out the please once more, lip sticking out in a pout as he looks up through his snowy lashes at you, "jus wanna feel you please, it's been so long, need it, baby, please."

shutting your eyes and sighing once again, unable to deny him any longer with him being so persistent, especially when he asks you so nicely, looking up at you with those beautiful eyes of his,

"oh my goddd Satoru, okay, fine." you shake your head, slapping your hand over your face, and he perks up, immediately abandoning his spoiled rich kid act, leaving fat kisses all over your knees, "yes yes yes thank you, baby, promise I won't let you down,"

he stands up and you peek through the cracks in your fingers, hand still on your face and your jaw practically drops at the sight, he is already sporting a huge tent in the crotch of his grey sweats, smile stretching from ear to ear while he looks down at you,

"you're already hard?" you exclaim, disbelief plastered on your face, "feelin' on ur legs made me hard," he says nonchalantly, the expression on your face not changing, "now up you go!" leaning down he scoops you up from under your arms and throws you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing, "woah! toru!" you exclaim, caught off guard as he takes long strides to your bedroom

strong hold on the underside of your knees as he hums, making his way through the hallway, finally reaching his destination and plopping you down in front of him on the hard floor, "how do ya want me your majesty?" he smirks, hands in his pockets waiting for your direction, "jus' go lay down on the bed you freak," pushing his solid chest back towards the king mattress,

putting on a show as he faux stumbles backward, flopping back on the bed, fluffy white hair on the pillows, putting one hand behind his head, the other coming down to rub himself over his sweats, "don't leave me waiting princess" biting his lip, lips corners of his lips curling up into a flirty smile,

"stop fucking touching yourself," you sigh, "gonna cum before I even get my hands on you." You're feeling undeniably aroused yourself, you and Gojo have a very active sex life, never going weeks without touching each other unless he is away on a mission. since he made quite the effort with the challenge this time around (largely thanks to you) you've been feeling pretty antsy, participation in the challenge yourself as a way of supporting him,

though there's no real pressure on you, if you wanted you could rub one out at any time. the only downside is that getting off on your own never felt as good as it did with Satoru,

he whistles, giving himself one last grope before his heavy hand joins the other behind his head, "yes ma'am" he says slightly teasing tone lacing his voice,

you crawled on top of him, resting your ass right above his knees, "remember Satoru, you're not going to cu-" he cuts you off, waving his hand in front of you, rolling his eyes, "yeah yeah, not gunna cum, I got it," he says snarkily, a little too snarky for someone who was quite literally on his knees begging you to touch his stupid cock, but you digress,

narrowing your eyes at him before sliding your slender fingers over his upper thighs, over his hips, teasing his lower stomach, barely grazing his twitching clothed cock on the way back down, repeating the process a couple of times, sometimes opting to skip over running your fingers over his cock altogether

his jaw is slightly slack, watching your hands intently, "cmon, don't be a tease baby," he sighs, pushing his hips off the bed towards you, "You're in no place to make demands right now," staring into his intimidating eyes challengingly,

he bites his lip, shutting his mouth, awaiting your move, pushing his shirt up, resting right under his pecs as you tease your fingers on the short white hairs of his happy trail, right above the hem of his pants,

smile now off his face, looking concentrated as he bites his lip harshly, eyes darting back between your fingers and pretty face, looking so concentrated on what you were doing,

your cunt was aching to feel him inside you, trying to push your own needs out of your brain, feeling nearly impossible as you exposed more and more of his happy trail the more you teased down his pelvis,

finally grabbing the fabric of his pants and sliding them down his incredibly toned thighs, he lifted his hips, aiding you in undressing him, his breathing started to pick up when you looked closely at his cock straining under his boxers

staring at a dark spot where his pre was leaking from his tip under his briefs, trying not to roll your eyes back when he made his cock jump. taking your index finger and rubbing it on the wet patch on the head of his dick, drawing little circles around it, his breath hitching, breathing picking up slightly watching you pull your finger back slowly, a string of cum connecting the two of you,

giving his boxers the same treatment, slipping your fingers underneath the hem and sliding them down, his hips raising again to make your job easier, and he's grinning so hard when your jaw drops open, watching his flushed cock slap back against his tummy, flexing the appendage again, putting on a show for you,

"your cock is so pretty Toru," you marvel, squeezing your thighs together so you can focus on the task at hand, "ur leaking so much," finger tapping his angry head a couple of times, proving your point as the cum makes little 'plap' 'plap' sounds when your finger comes in contact with him,

"There's so much it looks like you already came," you tease, finally wrapping your hand around his warm tip, hips leaving the bed once more to slide into your hand, "hips on the bed please Satoru," you correct, muscles in his thighs and abs flexing as you feel him connect his ankles together behind you,

starting to give him steady shallow pumps and his jaw is slack, eyes rolling back when you twist your wrist over the head of his neglected dick, "fuuuuck baby, just what I needed," he breathily laughs out a smile, "a little faster please," he requests, both hands leaving their place behind his head to grip the sheets by his sides,

"let me know when you feel close," you instruct, waiting to see him nod in acknowledgment before pumping your hand a little faster, sliding effortlessly up and down his cock with vulgar wet sounds thanks to his leaky cock,

"yesyesyes s-shit, squeeze harder," breaths entering and leaving his lungs rapidly as he tips his head back into the pillows, when you follow his instructions he lets out a long groan, abs clenching more frequently, your body jolting a bit every time he fidgeted his legs around the sheets behind you,

breathing heavily yourself, free hand coming down to press against the heat between your thighs, a temporary relief as you tried to memorize his every reaction he gives you,

"you close Satoru?" you question, noticing his breath come in shorter pants, warm cock twitching and straining against your hands, his thighs. tensing and unsensing more frequently, all telltale signs of his impending orgasm, "I asked you a question," you emphasized with a strong squeeze at the base of his lengthy cock, "n-no, not close yet, promise," he bites his lip, keeping his eyes screwed shut, sheets between his fingers practically ripping before you continue,

choosing to believe him you keep up the previous pace, squeezing your fingers tight around the tip of his cock on the downstroke and that's when you notice one of his hands abandoning his grip on the poor sheets to cover his mouth, his moans reaching a crescendo, and you know exactly whats happening

He's going to cum, and he lied to you about it

jerking your hand up his cock once more before you let go completely, anticipating his moves when he shoots his head up, hands reaching for his cock and you catch his wrists, pining them above his head, if he had half a mind he would break out of your grip with ease, but he was milliseconds from cumming, not having his usual strength coursing through his body,

"no! Nononono," he's protesting when his back arches, curling in on itself, legs thrashing under your weight as his cock dribbles out long spurts of cum, twitching and throbbing with every string, "Fuuuuck nooo, no, ughhh," he groans at you for ruining his orgasm, whole body twitching,

dick starting to soften in his own mess against his lower abs,

"you seriously thought you were gonna get away with that? you asked in an incredulous tone, hes pouting, letting out a long groan of your name before tipping his head forward and making eye contact with you,

"That was sooo mean" he pouts, "ive been saving that load..." he whines out, cock still twitching in the aftershocks,

"what was mean, is when I asked if you were gonna cum and you lied straight to my face," you spat, laughing in disbelief, swinging your legs off his torso while his eyes follow your figure, watching you wipe your hands using a tissue from the box you keep on the bedside table, he groans out your name again, "I'm sorryyyy, was feeling sooo good," he tries to justify

giving him a look that screams are you actually serious right now, as you start towards the door, "sounds like you need a pussyban to me," you deadpan, walking through the doorframe out into the hallway,

"WOAH!! woah, woahwoahwoah," practically teleporting his feet on the floor, hastily pulling up his pants as he chases you out of the room, hot on your trail, "baby! baby, haha, let's not do anything drastic now, kay?" he baffles in disbelief, worry laced in his voice.

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runraerun · 5 months

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Do you guys ever think about how canonically the vessels that angels occupy aren’t supposed to age (s12e10 when Cas is impressed his buddies kept their same vessels for well over a century. Also apparently Cas tells Jimmy when he first was requesting permission to inhabit his body, that Jimmy would not age while he was doing so.)

…but Castiel definitely ages. Obviously I get that this is simply because Misha himself is aging, but *my* in-universe headcanon is that he’s choosing it, (whether consciously or unconsciously) because he wants to grow old with Dean.

UPDATE: I wrote a fic for this. Enjoy!🐝

#because he’s a romantic little nerd #destiel #castiel #Destiel headcanon #Dean Winchester #he goes from dad to daddy #let’s be real #Misha collins #old men fucking #spn #supernatural #daddystiel #Destiel #deancas #someone’s probably already thought of this before me #but I’m re-entering the fandom after being gone for years so forgive me pls #1k

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lordbucketofthecaribbean · 24 days

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Not saying this means the thing but it definitely means the thing. They are literally the couple.

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1-800-zombify · 7 months

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Jake’s Advice 💪

Neteyam x Metkayina!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Neteyam being stupid & has a crush, Jake has ok dad advice, Neteyam not knowing Earth terms/phrases, Y/N is Ronal & Tonowari’s kid, Y/N isn’t actually in this - she’s just talked ab

Summary: Neteyam musters up confidence to ask his dad for advice on how to win over a girl after struggling and embarrassing himself.

NETEYAM PEERED INTO THE marui, his shadow casting over his father. He sat on the floor with his back towards his son, methodically cutting fruit. Jake’s ears twitched towards the sound of Neteyam’s footsteps. Jake didn’t bother to turn to him.

“What is it now?” Jake mumbled, laying the knife down, as Neteyam sat in front of him.

A beat passed.

“Dad, I need your help.”

Jake pressed his eyes closed. His lips pressed into a thin line when he sighed, “What happened? I told you to keep an eye on your brother —,”

Neteyam frantically shook his head, “No, Dad, he didn’t do anything.”

“… oh,” Jake blinked. “Well, that makes things a little easier. What is it?”

He rubbed the corner of his eye, fingers slowly traveling up to his temple. His ears flattened with embarrassment, as his eyes darted across the floor.

“I, uh…,” Neteyam paused with a sheepish smile. He propped his elbow on his thigh, as he leaned the side of his face into his palm.

Jake eyed his son suspiciously, observing the dazed far-off look on Neteyam’s face, the way his tail seemed to wag like a dog’s. He furrowed his brows, “Spit it out.”

“Well…,” Neteyam sat up straighter, hands now sitting on top of his knees. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure,” Jake replied bluntly.

“How did you make Mom like you?”

Jake scoffed, “She doesn’t. She just gave up trying to get rid of me.” Jake watched Neteyam awkwardly nod at his words.

He then realized where this was going, and his soul almost left his body.

The painful teenage conversation he prayed to avoid. Jake lightly hit his head, mumbling, “I’m joking.”

“Right,” Neteyam muttered. “Then… what did you do?”

“I went to the Tree of Voices.”

Neteyam winced, a disgusted expression creasing on his features, “No, Dad—,”

Jake raised his brows, blinking dumbly. Judging by that reaction — “Who told you about that?” Jake pressed, surprised.

Neteyam stuttered, “Uh — I, um,”

“Whatever, doesn’t matter,” Jake waved his hand dismissively. He mentally noted to hunt down all his teenagers later for a quick chat. He sighed, “Just tell me what this is all about.”

Neteyam swallowed, “I like someone?”

Jake couldn’t help flinching and immediately shutting his eyes at the inquisitive statement. His calloused fingers rubbed the top of his flat nose bridge, taking in a deep inhale, “Is that a question?”

“No?” Neteyam shook his head. He repeated the word more affirmably, “No.”

“…Who is it?” Jake uttered exasperatedly.

Neteyam flinched at the tiredness in his voice, his father’s yellow eyes boring into his. He nervously licked his lips, his gaze falling upon the floor, when he practically whispered, “Y/N.”

“Oh God.”

Neteyam looked at him, tilting his head, “Who?”

He ignored him, rubbing his eyelids. “Are you sure?” Jake inquired, repeating the name, “Y/N? Y/N, the chief’s kid?”

“Who else…?”

“That girl’s tough as nails,” he mumbled.

Neteyam blinked, “I don’t know what that means.”

“You — whatever, I’ll explain it later,” Jake paused. “You came here to ask me how to ask a girl out?”

He shrugged, “Yeah but…”

“But what?”

“I messed up.”

Jake’s eye twitched. It was more common to hear those words from his younger son, but it still stung nonetheless. “What do you mean ‘messed up’?” He asked carefully.

“Well… uh, I thought I could mimic the underwater dances Tsireya was showing us,” Neteyam awkwardly chuckled, nervously adjusting his armband. He looked up at his dad. Jake was amused to see his stoic son so flustered and worked up. “I didn’t do it… I didn’t do it right.”

Jake laughed, and Neteyam was bewildered.

“Dad —,”

The calloused pale blue pads of Jake’s hand pressed themself against the crown of Neteyam’s head, a meek attempt of fatherly comfort. Jake sighs lightheartedly, shaking Neteyam’s head, “I’m sure, if anything, she found it funny. You’re gonna have a harder time if you always take yourself seriously.”

“But she didn’t laugh,” Neteyam explained. There was a wave of sudden distress washing over his body. His striped tail slowly flickered from side to side, as he picked at his nails. “She just looked at me and did the finger-talk.”

“Neteyam, you’re fine,” Jake tossed the cut slices into a nearby wooden bowl. He picked up his small knife, resumed cutting the leftover fruit. “You know what she said?” He asked with a quick glance. Neteyam shook his head, and Jake continued, “You need to practice sign language more then.”

Neteyam rolled his eyes, “Dad,” he mumbled with slight irritation.

“What? You don’t know what she said, but you’re supposed to learn how to understand. Simple as that,” Jake shrugged. He wiped sweat off of his brow, the heat and humidity in the hut suddenly overbearing. “I don’t know what you want me to tell you, kid.”

“How do I make her like me?” Neteyam had asked it with the teenage theatrics Jake recalled from Kiri and Lo’ak. His son’s elbows were propped on his folded legs, his slender hands clasped together like he usually did in old clan meetings.

Jake raised his brows. His thin lips were evidently entertained by Neteyam’s anxiety, as they curved into teasing smile. Jake shrugged again, replying half-jokingly, “You’re the son of Toruk Makto and are an exceptional warrior, I’m sure she’s already very impressed.”

“It takes more than skill to win a girl over,” Neteyam groaned, finding the conversation hard to live through. He rubbed his eyelids til there were colorful spots in his vision.

“You telling me?” Jake laughed, raising his empty hand defensively. Once his laughter died down, he cleared his throat, his ears twitching at the top of his head, as Jake fell into thought. “Girls don’t just like brawn, you need to be smart too, son. Be compassionate, observant, witty — be more like your sisters.”

“Dad!”

“You ask me for advice, and all I get is judgment. What do you want from me?” Jake scratched his head. He sighed through his nose, “Here’s what you’re gonna do: you need to make it clear that you like her. Give her compliments, make her gifts, whatever. Fight for her — okay, not actually fight, but you know what I’m saying?”

Neteyam nodded timidly. He listened closely on the little guidance his father offered, digging his nail into a scab. Jake resumed speaking, “Don’t be so easily discouraged, but don’t do what I did. You can be stupid, you can be head over heels in love, but don’t be annoying.”

Neteyam’s eyes narrowed with puzzlement. He spoke up, clearing his voice with a soft cough, “Isn’t it annoying when someone doesn’t give up though?”

“Oh, she’ll cave eventually. That’s one thing I can assure you, son.” He repeated wisely, “Eventually. If it worked for me, it’ll work for you, I’m sure.”

“And… if it doesn’t?”

“Don’t come home.”

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poppyrays · 7 months

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Bullseye - V1 vs V2

Kick them while they’re down so they can never stand up again

#ultrakill #v1 fanart #v2 fanart #v1 v2 #v1 and v2 are able to bend #in mysterious ways #let’s be real #my art #fanart #blood #so that people who don’t like that don’t see #my thought process was #“this isn’t epic #this is personal

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thatsrightice · 6 months

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Val Kilmer filming footage using his personal camera on the set of Top Gun (1986)

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zer0pm · 1 year

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Imagine Luis surviving his knife wound and you patch him up.

“¡Joder! That hurts, you know?”

“Don’t have anesthesia, I told you. Stop moving.”

“Right, sorry- ¡Ay, Dios! Are you stitching with a knitting needle or something?”

You had to hide your laugh under a scoff, thankful he couldn’t see your amused smile at his attitude.

Luis was leaning against a crate when you finally caught up to him and Leon. The latter informed you of their encounter with Krauser, the Spaniard’s injuries confirmed by pain-filled groans. Not wanting to waste anymore time, you had Luis moved to one of the metal tables near the mine’s exit and stripped him of his shirt and jacket. He weakly made a teasing comment about you using his injury to get him out of his clothes, but you ceased his attempts at jest by gently making him lay on his stomach and dove right into the task of treating the gushing wound.

Thanks to your meticulous efforts and the medicinal herbs that Leon keeps around in his case, Luis was stable in no time. Able to breathe a little easier, he instructed Leon to fetch the key from his jacket pocket, saying that the agent will need it to gain access to his laboratory on the island where he and Ashley will then use the surgical equipment to remove the parasites from their bodies. After assuring him that the both of you will be fine and will catch up after Luis is completely patched up and ready to go, Leon made his swift exit, leaving the both of you alone. Which brings you to this point in time- you suturing him.

“Should consider yourself lucky. Any deeper and the blade would have struck your heart. Then… well, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“You call it “luck”, my friend, but I like to look at it as divine blessing.” Here we go, this you have to hear.

Curiously you ask, “Oh, yeah? And how do you figure that?”

“Es obvio, ¿no?” he gestures with a wave of one of his hands that he was using to rest his head on. “An angel is healing me.”

You couldn’t stop your eyes from rolling, but there was no denying the warm flutter in your heart at his suave words. “Sweet talker.”

Luis doesn’t respond, but you can tell the man was grinning ear to ear from your remark. Aside from a few more Spanish curses and colorful complaints about the pain, the rest of the procedure went smoothly. Once the final stitch was made, you gently applied antibiotics over the freshly closed wound before covering it with a clean bandage. You notice the man shiver under your touch when you placed a hand upon his broad back to keep him steady.

“There. Now try to sit up. Slowly,” you sternly advised. “Don’t want you opening that up doing something insane.”

Luis mutters under his breath, “Supongo que no debería saltar sobre más gigantes…”

“What was that?”

“¡Nada!” He jolts upright into a seated position, wincing at the sudden move that surely aggravated his injury. You would have been incensed if you weren’t so concerned for his wellbeing. After a careful reassessment to ensure that the stitches didn’t tear under the cloth, you proceeded to secure them by rolling more bandages around his torso. Your hands glided against the firm muscles of his defined chest and back as you did this.

You stood within the cage of his legs as you worked and can feel the heavy weight of his eyes on you. There was a concentrated look you tried to maintain to quell the nervous energy beating inside at your close proximity to him, but it was a losing battle. Luis’ body was radiating with an inviting warmth and a musky spice that delightfully filled your senses. You want nothing more than to drown in him, but willed yourself to keep your distance, internally conceding to give him space to recover from his near-death experience.

“This is nice,” Luis comments, breaking the comfortable silence.

You meet his eyes with an inquisitive look. “You find receiving treatment from an almost fatal stab wound to be pleasant?”

“I was not stabbed, the knife was thrown. There is a difference.” the man corrected with snark grin and you would have returned the witty remark had he not continued with his line of thought aloud. “Just thinking that it’s been awhile since it was only the two of us. Leon is good company, mind you. Pero, uh, he lacks your appeal.”

A snort escapes you, secretly giddy from his praise. “Think you’re so charming, huh?”

Mild amusement glints his grey eyes. “Have I not been this entire time?”

You shrug playfully, “Your game could use a little work.”

He returns your jest with an exaggerated pout, “¡Ay, mi orgullo! Your words cut deeper than the knife that struck me.”

Your chest heaves in hearty laughter. You shouldn’t have found it hilarious, but Luis had this innate ability to make a grave situation something to poke fun about. It’s what makes him so endearing. While you try to catch your breath, you missed the look of pure adoration he wore as he took in the sight of your smiling face. His usual coy smirk gently curving into something softer. Eventually you finish patching him up and help him back into his shirt and jacket. The man grumbles that the fine leather was now ruined, earning you another heartfelt chuckle.

Once he was presentable, he beholds you , “Gracias. Guess, uh, I owe you one, ¿si?”

“Your life, I’d say.” you nod, tone cheeky and good-natured.

It was his turn to laugh under his breath. He takes your hand in his, relishing in the feeling of touching you again. Soft determination flashes in his gaze as he mentally mulled over your words with newfound hope.

“Take it then,” Luis says. “It’s yours.”

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