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#then do that over and over and over and over and over and over and over
poorly-drawn-mdzs · 18 hours
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Good morning, Sleepyhead.
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#poorly drawn mdzs#mdzs#wei wuxian#lan wangji#'WWX was asleep for 4 days' is an incorrect factoid.#The average WWX sleeps for 8 hours. The PD-MDZS WWX who was asleep for 40 comics and 4 months is an outlier.#We are back to present day! I have missed drawing them!#Ah...the contrast between how the flashback ended (cold and distrustful) to how wwx wakes up (warm and watched over)...#The gap between the past and present is very important. Not just in this story but in our lives too.#The past can still hurt and it doesn't just go away with time as some say. It is the power of realizing that things have changed.#We can't get the good back. The bad memories have concluded. Those live somewhere else now.#It is hard to realize that you have to live for today and tomorrow. The past is so loud.#For WWX it is realizing that despite the mistrust in the past - He really does have faith that LWJ will be there for him.#It is the reflection of knowing that you changed and will keep changing and that change is good and kind sometimes.#But more importantly...and this I really do mean with all my heart:#It will all end up okay in the end. Even after the worst day. The most painful losses. You will get through it.#What feels like a breaking point is truthfully just another step you have to take. You'll get through it even though it feels like the end.#There are wonderful things you have yet to see. Friends you have yet to meet.#Even if it hurts so badly...one day it just aches. Someday you'll go a few weeks not remembering that it ever hurt.#Oh and because my izutsumi comic revealed many people were in need of hearing this:#You are loved. Right now. You are so loved right now. We just forget to tell each other that.#Go tell the people you love that they matter to you. I'm assigning you homework!!! You are graded on completion.
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dyoungs · 1 day
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WOOYOUNG / WORK (2024)
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neil-gaiman · 1 day
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The other day, I heard a writer complain that most people quoted on book covers didn't actually read the book. I'm assuming you do put aside the time for it. What do you think of this? I think it's strange, although no stranger than other forms of advertising I guess. (Love your stories, my favourite was probably The Graveyard Book)
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I’ve never met anyone who gave blurb quotes without reading the book. Although these look like things we have said about Randall Munro over the years.
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screampied · 1 day
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❝ HELL ON HEELS . . ! ❞
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ᡴꪫ sum. it's your third day on the job as a flight attendant. you work around a lot of snobby rich elites, but a particular one catches your eye. a particular one who tips you $300 dollars in cash and wants way more than just your uninvited attention.
wc. 6.5k
warnings. fem! reader, sugar daddy!gojo au, this is how gojo and reader meet, mile high club trope, flight attendant reader, age gap (early twenties/early thirties), semi public sēx, praise kink, degradation, dry humping, squırting, spanking, edging.
an. thank u to everyone who voted for this on the poll <3
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the low-pitched whirring of the plane’s engine was quite loud. white noise could be heard through first class as you walked alongside the aisle. with a heavy sigh, you’d just wish the day would be over. the overall duration of the flight was about a good two hours, not too bad but you were already over it. dealing with haughty a-list celebrities or elites as a whole wasn’t for the weak. a majority of them were rude, snobby, and just stuck up individuals. except for one . .
as thick pieces of rubber stick against your heels and clank against the carbon fibre floor, you sashay through and from the rows before a cheeky voice calls over to you. “excuseee me, miss ‘ttendant,” and you crane your neck to where it was coming from. sat right by the window near the left— draped in nothing but a sable-black tuxedo with a pricey g-shock wrapping around his wrist, he simpers. “do you ahh, mind if you . . ?”
“huh,” you quirk your eyebrows into a brow before he nods his head up toward the cabin compartment above all of the seats. “oh,” you give him a soft smile. he takes a quick glance at your name tag that’s glued on the left side of your blazer. you lean over against him, reaching towards the latch to pull it down. the more you get close to him, the more you smell his cologne. it’s so strong, you were sure it was some kind of expensive designer brand. a small grunt leaves your lips as you stretch before just when you’re about to pry open the cabinet, the plane grumbles with a rude shake. a rude shake in which you fall—right onto the older man’s lap who’s got the smuggest grin.
“we’re experiencing a bit of turbulence up here, sincerest apologizes passengers..”
the pilot mutters through the intercom— it’s blaring through the speakers. he talks for about seven seconds, as well as reminding for everyone to have their seatbelts on at all times before he stops.
as if things couldn’t have been anymore embarrassing, your face lands right into his crotch. “oh my god—i’m so sorry sir,” you try to atone, sitting up and as you’re up so close to him, you take a moment to actually get a good glimpse at the man.
he was pretty, simply no denying it. you knew him from anywhere. gojo satoru, the gojo satoru. the snowy white hair was a dead giveaway.
he was more of a well known business man—a ceo of some hot shot company. he had his own clothing brand, does lots of men photoshoots, and even modeled a bit in his early twenties. although, the more you gawk at him, the more it seems like he barely even aged. gojo looks like he was still in his twenties, he had a bit of a stubble but was quite really well shaved. azul-blue eyes return the stare right back at you as you take in his prepossessing features for just a bit longer.
god, he was handsome.
gojo’s hair was neatly neat, a simple slick back of a sort with a few strands of white hair running down his face. he brings a wrist up to his face to rub his mouth before covertly humming. “. . oh, am i that good lookin’, princess?”
you gulp once he catches you staring, and then it hits you again,
you were still dumbly laid on his lap as he’s gazing into your eyes with the most complacent grin. “i-i’m sorry,” you mumble, cringing at your own stutter. thankfully, it was probably about four am, it was a private jet and only a few other passengers scattered around the sectioned row. sitting up, you rub your neck sheepishly before sighing. “i . . don’t usually fall on passengers during on my shifts.”
“heh well i’d hope not,” he teases. “oh, and don’t worry about getting my luggage by the way,” and his eyes trail you down before he glances at your name tag again. “hm, i think i’d like to request something else though,” and the more you stare into his pretty cerulean eyes, the more you get lost in them.
his eyes were equivalent to a maze, you’re always getting lost in his pretty irises—never finding your way out. “you’re probably all sore from walkin’ around in those heels, how ‘bout you take a little break?”
and he was right. the entire lower parts of your calves were a bit sore, so you do. you take a break . . although,
your 'break' mainly consists of you being hunched over, propped up in front of gojo’s seat with him eating you out from behind like a starved man. your bottom lip feels all numb and puffed from chewing on it for so long. your lips part into an exaggerated ‘o’ as your head’s repeatedly being pressed against the back of the airplane seat in front of you. the softly made material rubs against your face and you moan. some older woman was snoring in the front of it, headphones plugged in both sides of her ears.
thank god, you prayed whatever heavy metal track she was listening to would distract her slumber from hearing your loud, whiny moans.
alas again, by ‘break’, you didn’t expect this but you weren’t exactly complaining either. with gojo’s tongue rummaging against your clit, it had you gasping for desperate various breaths. “s-sirrrr,” you whimper, a lewd smile pursing against your lips. two broad hands of his had your jade-colored business skirt pulled up all the way to the very hem of your torso— just about reaching near your now wrinkled blazer. as you sling an arm over the seat in front of you, you whine once his nose prods against your soddened entrance. “ngh, ‘m gettin’ close again i think. f-fuck, right there.”
“please, call me satoru, baby,” he whispers against your pussy. you shudder from the coldness of his breath aerating against your bare skin—you whine once his palm swats by your right ass cheek, giving it a mean spank. “ooh,” he coos from the recoil of your rear. so pretty, it was quite funny how things even escalated so quickly.
right before he was buried into the depths of your plush thighs, you were just chatting with him. gojo had a charm to him. he was a lot different from the other stuck up elites you occasionally dealt with. he was quite easy to talk to. you make it a habit to talk to each passenger, despite how snobby they might come across anyway.
with him though, he was a pure smooth talker.
gojo showered you with a plethora of compliments. it came natural, it didn’t seem forced—he’d point out your pretty eye color, your hair, just anything. with your job, you were used to getting a few compliments here and there—but he’d go all out, all out in a way where it makes your heart flutter and fly. you’re rutting your ass against his face, loving the way his wet tongue curls into a few alphabetic letters. he’s just filthy. each breath that escapes from your lips as if it was being held captive felt like it was gonna be its last.
“so . . fuckin’ sweet,” he purrs, dragging a thumb down your slit for a moment. gojo takes a second to admire the way you easily soak in his digit, such a breathtaking sight inside. lewd, but breathtaking. “mhm, look at her givin’ me a little show. move your ass against my face a little more, sweetheart. yeah, fuck.”
your heart does jumping jacks at his dialogue. his voice was deep, rich—and seductive.
the silvery band of his watch continues to skim all across your skin as your hips judder. you shiver, feeling yourself about to reach your inevitable orgasmic peak before you moan out loud. you tried to suppress your noises, you did—but it was no use. you’re already biting at your hardened knuckles but oh, his tongue.
every few seconds, he’d break away to spit and slobber on your pussy. his nose consistently smears all against your folds, getting you ten times more wetter than you already were. he’s nasty, making sure you keep that arch for him. your skirt was pulled up and all wrinkled. the teeth-shattering stimulation makes you feel nerves surge all throughout your body like galvanic electricity.
“s- satoruuu.” you’d huff out in tiny pants, feeling your tummy cave in a few times. your sweet moan, its like a tune—a harmony, hell, it was melodic. he’d listen to you whine his name like that all day if he could. a gentle hand of his runs down your twitching leg, giving every part of your body from behind attention.
he was starting to get addicted, you were too sweet . . candied even, it was dangerous. he’s always had a bit of a sweet tooth anyways and perhaps you were his new favorite treat.
the raving pace of his tongue was simply relentless. you’re gripping onto the back of the seat for dear life, barely able to keep up with him.
ethereal ivory lashes of his open and close every millisecond that passes. it’s as if time was going slow for you— of course it was though, considering how you were thousands of feet in the air. you don’t know why, but the thought of someone just walking by and stumbling upon you all bent over for a passenger,
not just a passenger but the gojo satoru . .
you’d be lying a bit if you said it didn’t turn you on a bit. you knew it was against policy to screw on the job, in the air at that, but it was the middle of the night and partly everyone onboard was asleep anyway. having some affluent attractive guy right between your thighs, you were living the dream. you thought this only happened in the movies.
“aw, don’t give up on me just yet, pretty,” he soothes a tune against your cunt. after a while, gojo’s speedy flicking of his tongue transitioning to pure sucks. you’re shaking within the suction of his mouth. it’s almost too much to bare yet you didn’t want him to stop. he knows just the right tempo to make you roll your eyes back too. with prying hands, gojo’s spreading open your ass a bit more to lick a deeper area with his tongue. you zealously whine once he playfully uses a thumb to poke against your puckering hole. “mhm, yeah. thaaaat’s it, but don’t be so loud though, princess. i know we’re in the back row but still, heh.”
and with that— he gifts your ass another smack. he proudly relishes in your lewd, pornographic reactions. you’re an entire mess and he’s slurping your fervor shamelessly.
“s- satoruuuu, fuck f-fuck,” your breathing starts to significantly pick up. with your chest continuing to sink in and out, he briefly sneaks his dampened lips away from your entrance to bite near your thighs. the way you were shaking to him was just so cute. the white noise that continues to sing and reverb throughout the plane’s structure grew louder. or . . that was just the ringing through your ears—regardless, it was between that noise and the sounds of your own obscene pleasure that had a competition. a competition on who could be the most louder. your name-tag that’s still pressed against your blazer remains to rub off against the fabric of the seat in front of you.
your perked nipples snag in the process as you’re arching a bit more before a wail dies out your throat. “i- i’m gonna cu— oh!”
“another few hits of turbulence, folks. please stay in your seatbelts. time of arrival should be around six thirty am..”
you bring a hand over your mouth in a cute attempt to silence yourself as you’re meeting your high—listening to the pilot, you sob out a squeal from the inside of your palm. gojo’s slurping you up again with his tongue, your grinding against his face makes him chuckle. with his jaw tightening a bit, he doesn’t care—you were so sweet, he could eat you out all day. not to mention, he was quite thirsty. instead of having you retrieve one of his bags, he was gonna originally ask for a glass of water. but this quenched his thirst a lot better in his humblest opinion. his warm breath fans against your cunt all the while you feel his stubble tickle near the undersides of your thighs. “mmph.” you moan, peeking in front of you to still see the old lady knocked out cold. with the way you were rocking into the back of her seat— you were surprised she didn’t wake up. you were glad she didn’t though. otherwise, you’d embarrass yourself yet again.
with your orgasm still having its moment, you start to calm down a bit. he’s still slithering his tongue down your folds, savoring your taste as if it’s the last thing on the planet. his chin was coated with all of your slick, and he snickers before dragging a thumb to get another taste. “good girl. give it to me, ride my—ride my tongue, uh huhhh.”
a swarm of butterflies wanders around inside of your tummy from his words—his tone, it was so soft yet the dialogue that spoke out was just downright dirty. you pulse between your thighs and it only makes you crave him more.
as you’re still arched over in front of him, you take a few hard gulps to swallow as you’re finishing your perfect nirvana state. ecstasy, just ecstasy overtakes your entire body as he gives your pussy it’s final sucks and nibbles. once he finishes, he’s still sat in his chair. spinning you around, he gives you a warm smile.
“c’mere, sweetheart..”
out of breath and pants snatching out of your full lungs with ease—you move into him with your eyes half-lidded. “. . . atta girl, taste how sweet you are. gimme a kiss,” and you get on top of him. sliding off your heels, you get onto gojo’s lap. now straddling him, you lean into a steamy, hot kiss. two hefty built arms of his wrap around your waist, pulling you in close. once your lips meet, it’s just utterly sloppy.
throwing your arms around him and tugging on his tucked out collar, you deepen the kiss. he groans at your enthusiasm, allowing his hands to glide against every inch of your body. gojo’s fingertips dance against the pieces of clothing you wore, despite it being so few. your blazer was still on and yet couldn’t help but rock against his lap as your tongue parts inside of his mouth. gojo’s head leans back as you’re enjoying yourself. but all of a sudden, you moan once you feel it. 
his boner, right in the middle part of his pants. gojo satoru was hard—hard for you.
he grunts lowly, a hand of his snaking up your leg as you taste the sweet remnants of your own flavor on his tongue. the closer you are to him, the closer you get a nice everlasting sniff of his cologne. so manly, it’s a rich scent that you could never get enough of. it was so strong—roaming through the air so much that it almost gave you a headache. 
“fuck,” he sibilates. a single hissing word that comes from his mouth makes you throb oh so easily. you’re swaying your hips against him and his adam’s apple bobs back in rapture. every few seconds, he pulls away to leave a wet slope of kisses down your neck. a hand of yours tugs against his tie that was neatly worn on him. “damn girl you’re kinda kinky,” and he finally pulls away, teasingly biting on your bottom lip before finally departing. “i’m startin’ to like you.”
“more,” you murmur, leaning in to nip a wet kiss of your own near the crooked crevices of his mouth. naturally parted lips of his twitch, causing him to wryly smile back at you. “i need more, sir. we have a few more hours left. please.”
“baby, you can call me satoru. cut the formal shit yeah?” and his voice was a pitchy low, an almost rasp hidden underneath. a hand of his gently grabs your chin and you’re met with the most prettiest eyes. if it wasn’t his long lashes, it was his celestially blue eyes. so blue that it was as if you were star gazing at a summer sky. gojo satoru a pretty man, no doubt. he hums to himself in amusement at your cute doe-eyed expression, hungry for more. sitting on his boner was already torture enough, you just wanted him inside. 
sure, you were technically working but you didn’t care about that. “satoruuuu,” he’s being playful, a thumb still pulling down your bottom lip. as you’re both maintaining such intimate eye contact, his voice softens once more. gojo’s hand slides its way between your thighs before he raises a brow in a taunting manner. “what do you want satoru to do to you? tell me, girl.”
“t- touch me.” you almost whine out, it yanks out from your throat so pathetically. the throbbing you were feeling behind your panties only turned into straight convulses. 
playfully, he tilts his head with a smile. “yeah? touch ya where.”
“i gotta spell it out for you?” you pout, and he chuckles at your frustrated attitude. you start to jerk your hips against his lap and he holds your waist in place to bring those movements to a stop. “f-fuck, ‘s hard.”
stroking a thumb against your quivering lips, his minty breath hits against your nose—you smell it and it’s minty fresh. a scent of what seemed to be some kind of tangy beverage and a gum like substance. with a mocking tone, he presses a kiss against your nose before jibing. “i just wanna know where ‘m gonna put my hands on this pretty body. that’s all,” and his voice was so smooth, an almost purr. with a chortle, he moves a few strands of hair out of your view of sight before continuing his words. “now now, i’ll ask again, pretty. where do ya want me to touch you? let’s be descriptive this time.”
“between my t-thighs,” you confess, already soaked from him devouring your pussy just merely seconds ago. the shocking friction between both bodies had you feral, had you dizzy, had you stupid.
gojo gradually brings a hand down before you press a hand against his chest, pouting again. “actually, i want you to fuck me. please, satoru.”
“there we go, good girl. ‘n heh, aw i figured,” he cheeses, licking a single stripe up your neck. “mhm, you’ll have to ride me though. ‘s only so many positions you can do on a plane, heh.”
you barely let him finish your sentence before you start to unbuckle his pants. you’re so quick with it. gojo stares at the way you’re so desperate, taking it off the tiny hooks before yanking his belt all the way off. seconds later, you’re pulling down his pants toward his ankles. “ooh,” his eyes flicker towards your chest as you start to align yourself against his lap. you take a moment to stare at his now exposed cock and it was so pretty. lengthy if anything, a leaky mushroom like tip that was a bit reddened. he was so hard too, just gawking at his heavyset bulge that had you almost drooling. gojo leans back, rubbing against his thigh before flashing you a cheesy smile. “wellllll,” he sings. “don’t be shy girl. get on up here. ride all that stress away from work, pretty thing.”
he was so cocky, yet you were so needy. 
as you’re still aligning him, your damp entrance rubs off against the head of his tip. it’s peeling open a bit, the skin that attaches to the frenulum was just so mesmerizing to look at. it’s got a pinkish color, almost red. shortly following, a mere tannish color flushes on his cock near the base down. you moan once he grabs ahold of his length, helping you adjust. 
“easy . . easy baby, i gotcha,” he sighs, feeling your warmth slowly swallow him whole. those short seconds you spend taking in gojo’s dick feels like long, consecutive hours.
you’re dripping wet. as you straddle his lap, preparing to ride him, he slouches back in such a sexy way. manspread—gojo grunts out a single breath as his chest deflates. shifting his gaze towards your cunt, he spreads open your folds to get a better view. “ughhh, look at how she opens up for me. ‘s fuckin’ nasty,” he groans, staring dead at your cunt. you were indeed coating him with your slick from the base down. “give it to me, upside daisey, yeah.”
you’re taking his inches as the seconds go by before after a while—you plop down, feeling him bottom out already. gojo moans, gifting your ass with another spank. “f-fuck ‘toru,” you hiss, knowing that was a non-verbal sign for you to start up your hips. a cooling air that passes through the plane sets against your skin as you move. you whine, feeling his hands trickle alongside the secretive edges of your thighs. “touch me more, l- like that.”
“i don’t remember saying you could tell me what to do,” he meets your eyes as you start to thrust forward. he’s got the most impish grin stretching against his lips. gojo grips your chin for what was probably the nth time within this hour before he grins. “nuh uh, don’t look away. i wanna see those gorgeous eyes,” and he sneaks another wet kiss against your mouth. “ride it like you own it baby.”
you start off realllll slow, 
sashaying your hips up and down against his lap in the most alluring way. all six eyes were on you and only you..
your arms still wrap around him and he’s keeping eye contact with you the entire time. with your blazer practically ruffled and wrinkled, you continue to move yourself against him. gojo’s cock stretches you out in such a way you didn’t even know was possible. your walls craved him, you craved him.
as he leans further back, a hand’s still glued to your ass before he smacks it . . again.
he pats it afterwards, watching a cute sour expression slowly marinate against your facial features. 
gojo giggles at your cute noises, it doesn’t take long before you bury your face into the crook of his neck, gnawing your teeth against his collared shirt. “f-fuck, satoru,” you’d whine out, feeling his grip tighten against your ass. his cologne’s got your head spinning like a merri-go-round, giving you whiplash in all the right ways. “s-so big, stretchin’ me.”
“takin’ it so good, baby,” he licks against the lobe of your ear.  his breath against your neck was warm—not so cold anymore. two rough hands grasp onto your active hips, encouraging you to go more forward, more faster. “good girl, mhm, fuck me like that. use those hips for me, yeahh.”
his dick curves through every part of your walls as if it’s exploring. you feel him reach deep within every part and it’s driving you toward the first street of crazy.
breathy pants skate out from your lips as you’re swinging yourself back and forth against him. “s-satoru,” you whimper, feeling his hands continue to feel against the bare bottom parts of your ass. you could feel the bands of rings he wore rub off against your skin also, so fridgly cold. “f-fuck, ‘s good. mhm, fuck.”
“you’re so pretty,” he groans, the brief sounds of skin slapping resounding through your ears. it’s loud, almost sonorous.
his hair was getting a bit ruffled and unkempt, adding to his suave, mature features.
as he looks off into the nearly empty dim lit aisle, a silhouette appears—someone’s coming. it’s a familiar sound of heels hitting against the floor and you were too occupied of being horny to turn your head. at first, you barely even notice as you’re still grinding against his lap. “oh shit,” gojo gasps, grabbing the sides of your hips, suddenly bringing you to a stop. with a sly smile, he hums against your ear. “baby, don’t freak but i think your co-worker’s coming.”
“w- what?” you murmur, and he makes you spin around, still having his heavy cock hidden into the swollen depths of your cunt. glancing up, it was one of your co-workers coming. in a weak attempt to fix your nearly messed up blazer that was about to pop, you lean against his chest. “who— where?”
as he’s pressed right up against you, you’re met with a playful deep voice against your ear. “relax. act like you’re totally not cockwarming me, obviously,” and he runs a few fingers down your uniform, feeling you shift your hips a bit at his touch. gojo tries to make it look like you were just sitting on his lap, moving a cover over you and him from the waist down. you feel so full, you were growing more and more needy, a pout comes onto your lips because you didn’t want to stop so abruptly. you just wanted to keep riding him, but of course—you were working. “play it cool, baby.”
“um, is everything okay?” one of your fellow co-worker flight attendants, serena murmurs.
with a furrowing brow, she takes in the sight in front of her. you, happily straddling a passenger's lap whilst you’re heaving as if you’d just finish a 5k race. “we’ve been some getting complaints about noises. also, you need to restock the snacks near back. we’re runnin’ low on peanuts.”
“y-yeah, ‘m fine,” you sheepishly nod, knowing how fishy this entire scene might have looked. gojo’s dick was just idly enshrouded into your cunt, just one move and you’d be fucked. technically, you already were fucked. he’s tracing a finger against your thighs before you exhale. “but uh— can’t you restock?”
“i would but that’s not my job,” she snaps with an eye roll. gojo chortles at your co-worker’s attitude, he presses a single kiss against your neck and you almost moan. her facial expressions twist in disgust before she backs away. “anyways, just go restock,” and as she twists her heels to walk away, she utters under her breath. “weirdos. i don’t get paid enough for this shit.”
gojo lets out a breathy laugh as you finally moan again—it’s taking everything out of you and you start up the jolting of your hips again. “f-fuck, ‘m close, ‘toru,” you whimper, the friction feeling like hot static dragging against your legs. “mhm, ‘s good.”
“you’re even more dirtier than i thought, princess,” he whispers, a hand playfully wrapping around your throat as you’re moving your hips back. “i bet your co-worker put two ‘n two together. you could have been a little more believable.”
you’re moaning, his touch sending you more deadly shivers before you feel a coil within you squeeze shut tight. the beat of your heat grows rapid and your pupils dilate from pure pleasurable lust. you’re getting close again, it’s coming so quick that you barely have any time to breathe.
his aromatic cologne nearly blinds your sinuses before you feel against his neck with your palm. “i . . i don’t care if she knows,” you mumble with a scowl, feeling his base continuously rub against your entrance. you’re coating him with nothing but a pretty viscous sheet of your slick. “fuck, ‘m gonna cum again.”
“yeah? what if i want you to wait?” he purrs, his sloping trail of kisses turning into sucks. you whine, leaning into his touch as he’s stuffing your insides full of thick cock. jello—your legs felt like jello, barely even able to move. the warmth against him had you hungry for more. it was addictive, you didn’t know what it was. you didn’t get like this for any other passenger, yet here you were. your mouth croons open, whining out a single harmony at his pace. he’s still making you grind back against him, the tempo having your head going for a spin every time. “what if i want you to be a good attendant ‘n wait just a bit longer f’me?”
“but—”
“nuh uh,” he snickers, bringing a smack to your ass. “wait for me, pretty. this pussy’s gonna make a mess when i want her to.”
and he creeps a hand down between your jittery legs, rubbing a few circles against your already sopping wet cunt. a gasp wretches from your throat as you’re laid back against his chest. the rugged fabric of his tuxedo top whisks against your skin and you’re babbling out sweet nothings.
“f-fuck, ‘m not gonna last,” you whine, feeling yourself throb at the way his thumb brushes against your throat. he’s feeling the vibrations of your gruttural moans and it’s so cute. by this point, you’d already forgotten you were thirty thousand feet in the air. thirty thousand feet in the air and you were getting your pussy destroyed by one of your passengers. 
not just any passenger though, 
gojo satoru. 
he’s panting right with you as you’re just bouncing on his lap, two soft padded hands gripping against his thighs. as you bite your lip, your ass thrashes back gainst him and he hisses. “just like that, pretty girl. shiiiiit, ‘m gonna cum too.”
with his deep penetrative thrusts, it’s got you going ditzy. as he starts to spank against your puffy cunt, he nibbles against your collarbone. “you wanna cum with me, yeah? ‘s that why you keep dragging y’r nails into my leg?”
“s—sir,” you desperately spat, but he spanks your cunt again so you could switch your words around. “ngh, i mean satoru. wanna cum with you, pleaseplease. ‘s good, want it, finish in me.”
“my, well when ya ask like that,” he hums, and you feel the sharpness of his hips pivot. gojo groans, standing up before he lies you back against the now reclined seat. “lie back, baby. actually, changed my mind. i wanna push those pretty knees up to your chest.” 
panting, you lie back against the now lounged seat. gojo flashes you that same sly grin before he lifts up your leg—bringing a sweet kiss toward your ankle. “you can lose your license over this, you know? dirty girl, lettin’ your pussy think for ya instead of that brain, huh?”
“don’t care,” you moan, watching him quickly align his cock against your slit. gojo grunts, feeling you easily swallow his tip up again. your cunt was clingy, he was very much addicted to your slippery sloppy core. with his pants halfway on and hanging down to his ankles, he starts up a rapid pace again. “uh, uh,” you whimper again and again, your thighs instinctively wrapping around his waist. you’re keeping him warm from the inside, raw moans pulling out of your esophagus like it was nothing. “right there, ‘m gonna cum, please. s-sir, fuck me.”
“satoru,” he corrects you, a hand gripping your chin. pretty blue eyes leer down at you and he’s so close to you. as he’s jackhammering his cock into your sobbing swollen walls—eyes of your own goggle into gojo’s as he’s fucking you silly. you probably look a mess from this view, the heel of your foot grazing down his strong back muscles. gojo hears the sloshing squelches your own pussy makes and you feel the sudden throb arise from his dick. he twitches inside you and it makes his head throw back. after he gains composure again, he exhales deeply, tapping a thumb against your sealed lips.“you don’t gotta be formal when ‘m inside, princess,” and he squeezes your lips together, licking near the bottom. “open.”
you’re whining, his tempo growing quicker and you’re so close. crimson-carmine lips of his twitch into a feral smile once he sees you being so easy to comply. with your lips parting open, you tilt your head back before he spits into your mouth.
“theeeere’s your tip,” he teases, pursing your lips together with two fingers as you swallow. your cunt still gripping against him as he then pulls you into a deep kiss. with your legs clutching around his waist. “uh, manners baby. where’s my thank you?”
“t- thank you, ‘toru.” you breathe, feeling your cunt throb even quicker.
“oh, you’re welcome,” he smiles and he can’t help but giving you another kiss on the mouth shortly afterwards. the lustful stare he’s giving you could almost be described as lecherous has you more sopping wet by the second. with your legs tightly and securely keeping him from breaking away, he groans. right into your mouth, his tongue collides against yours before he sucks on it. as he brings you into a loving kiss again, gojo’s girth has you feeling a sudden arch in your back arise the moment you sit up. you’re being fucking into the reclined seat, his weight almost crushing against but it feels so good. “mhmmm, ‘m gonna cum. gonna spill so much inside of you, pretty.”
“don’t waste any,” you whimper, wrapping your arms around him. you didn’t even care how unprofessional this was. in the back of your mind, you’re thinking to yourself— if someone walked in again, who cares? not you. “please.”
“well aren’t you a doll,” gojo murmurs in a cooing tone, shoving your knees all the way up near your chest. you’re preparing yourself as you’re about to reach your final pleasurable demise. it feels almost tickling, the fat tip of his cock repeatedly kisses against that same spot within you. you’re whines sound almost melodic, not even caring if your pilot a few seats back heard. “look at me.” he taps your bottom shaking lip, leaning in to plant another kiss on your lips. one turns into two, then three, then four . .
and then— his phone rings.
you’re still a moaning mess, feeling your legs just about give out as he’s pressing such amounts of weight on top of you. gojo’s hands fondle with your neglected breasts that laid underneath your blazer. he groans, reaching for his phone near the counter of the seat. with a grunt, he answers. “tch. satoru gojo.”
still snugly shoved deep inside, he’s multitasking. one hand holds onto the left side of your waist, another holding his phone up against his cheek. he’s drilling into you so mercilessly as if his occupation was a construction worker. you whine, the scratching itch never leaving you. once it comes, it comes. “suguru, ‘m kinda busy. can this wai— oh f…fuck.”
in an abrupt gasp, he ends up finishing first. it’s so much. thick gooey spurts pour into your cunt, filling up the insides of your goopy womb. gojo’s peering down at you and his lip quivers. he finished a bit early. too quick, his hand shakes as he holds up his phone before you squeeze your legs against his torso even tighter. for a moment, he almost whines himself. the strong gripping grip your pussy has against makes him swear underneath his breath.
“huh? yeah, ‘m good,” he sexily whews, slowing his rhythm down a bit.
a hand of his snaps, making you look down between your legs.
he gives you a teasing grin and you spread your folds open. it was so much, so much velvety ropes of hot cum that ooze in and out of your sloppy folds. you’ve never felt more warm from the inside. it was a feeling that had your mouth watering, salivating with your sweet, syrupy saliva. your legs were practically mush, and once you finish, you end up gushing all out at once. it takes you by surprise more than anything. the feeling comes like a crashing, unpredictable wave, a fading fade then departures from your body. minutes eventually pass and gojo’s still yapping away on the phone—yet after a while, he decides to wrap it up and groan. “yeah yeah okay, man. i gotta go now. unless you wanna listen to how i sound post-orgasm, heh.”
“what—?”
with a quick bleep, gojo hangs up. tossing his phone aside, he looks down at you—cutely sprawled out whilst chills run down your body. he can almost see you palpitating from said chills. leaning up close to you, still balls deep, he pants heavily. gojo pressed a kiss against your right temple before teasing. “heyyy, did you just squirt on me?” he asks, and he speaks in a sly soft tone.
you don’t reply and he gives you a priggish smile. “you didddd. so nasty, i should make ya lick it off me.”
you did end up squirting. it was so much. so so much.
you’re still having your legs wrap around his waist before you grab onto his wide, stiff shoulders. “s-satoru,” you moan into his neck, getting yet another balmy whiff of his manly musk. “f-fuuuck, more.”
right before he could reply though— the intercom of the plane comes on and it’s the pilot.
“ladies and gentleman, we’ve made it to our destination. local time and time of arrival is six thirty-three am. for your own safety and others around you, please remain seated and keep the aisles cleared until i announce we’re at the airport gates. thank you.”
“aw, boo,” gojo laments, slowly pulling out of your pussy. a pout unfurls against your glossed lips as you feel suddenly empty. no more thick inches inside. the only thing you felt were the leftover masses of his cum spewing out of you. the seats were a mess, he brings a hand down to strum a few fingers against your entrance and you whine. so soaked, he gifts you with a kiss on your forehead before exhaling. “well, think it’s ‘bout time we part ways, gorgeous.”
gojo helps put back on your skirt and panties and you‘re just laid back with a cute scowl as he assists you off your feet. “i . . can’t walk like this,” and he chuckles at how stiff you were— a few droplets of his cum race down your thighs and you almost moan again. you’re still sensitive, throbbing near every inch of your body before he stands up. he’s so lean and tall. as gojo towers over you, you glance up at him and you’re met with that annoying flirtatious smirk he gave you when his eyes first laid on you. “my panties are practically ripped.”
he turns around to grab his suitcases above him from the cabinet and sighs.
zipping up his exposed fly, gojo leans in to kiss your forehead. “ah, well i can always buy you some more,” and then he pauses. “actually,” he grabs his wallet and your eyes widen once he gives you three hundred dollar bills. “i can buy you more than just panties if ya want, sweet thing,” he slides the bills in between your bra before pressing a kiss against your neck. “you’ve been such a good girl,” and he then hands you his business card. it displays his name and a cheesy saying near the front, all his information in bold blue letters too. before walking away with your bawled up underwear, he leans up to your ear for a final time and whispers, “remember though, it’s satoru gojo, baby. ah, and these panties—i’ll be keeping these as a souvenir.”
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scottishcommune · 23 hours
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Below the cut is a template email to send to Edinburgh Pride regarding sponsorship from Aegon, who have investments linked to the genocide in Palestine. Please feel free to use this text or edit it and make it your own and send it to [email protected]
Dear Edinburgh Pride,
As a queer person living in Edinburgh, I was deeply saddened to learn that the march partner for Edinburgh Pride 2024 is Aegon.
In December 2023 the ‘Don’t Buy Into Occupation Coalition’ published a report that showed Aegon have US$564million invested via shares and bonds in companies operating in illegal settlements in Occupied Palestinian Territories. Source: https://dontbuyintooccupation.org/wp-content/uploads/2023/12/2023_DBIO-III-Report_11-December-2023.pdf
We are watching a live-streamed genocide every day - over 36,000 people in Palestine have been murdered by Israeli forces, including at least 15,000 children. The brutality of these atrocities are unthinkable, with evidence of torture and targeting of hospitals, ambulances and refugee camps.
We all have a responsibility to do what we can to end this genocide. As queer people, we are part of a rich history of resisting oppression and dehumanisation - of both ourselves and those we stand in solidarity with. Pride started as a protest against homophobia, transphobia and police violence. It is an important moment to come together as a community to celebrate queer joy and resilience.
But how can we celebrate using profits stained with the blood of our siblings in Palestine?
Aegon has $564million invested in companies that have been listed by the UN as “raising human rights concerns” for their operations in illegal settlements in Occupied Palestinian Territories, In 1948, 750,000 Palestinian people were displaced from their homes and lands and since then, Israeli settlements have been used to spread this process of colonisation.
In addition to this figure, Aegon also has major investments in Eaton Corp Plc., who supply parts for helicopters and fighter jets to the Israeli military and have recently been the target of major protests at their factory in Dorset. They also invest in Amazon, who support the Israeli military with surveillance technology used against Palestians.
Israel has long used ‘pinkwashing’ as a tactic to justify the brutal repression of Palestinians, using queer people to legitimise this horrific violence. We refuse to allow this to be done in our name.
The tide is turning on companies like Aegon that profit from investments in the companies complicit in genocide. Recently, both Hay and Edinburgh Book Festival have dropped Baillie Gifford as a sponsor after over 800 authors called on them to divest from companies involved in Israel and the fossil fuel industry.
I ask that Edinburgh Pride:
Calls on Aegon to commit to divest from companies involved in supplying technology to Israel and operating in illegal settlements.
Drop Aegon as a sponsor until they are able to show evidence of divestment.
Publicly call for a ceasefire and a free Palestine.
There is no pride in genocide.
I look forward to hearing your response.
XX
Sources:
Investments in companies operating in illegal settlements https://dontbuyintooccupation.org/wp-content/uploads/2023/12/2023_DBIO-III-Report_11-December-2023.pdf
Investments in Eaton https://extranet.secure.aegon.co.uk/static/sxhub/pdf/client-pen-distribution.pdf
Investments in Amazon https://www.aegon.co.uk/content/dam/auk/assets/publication/fund-factsheet/standard_bkj9zs0.pdf
Israel’s pinkwashing: https://bdsmovement.net/pinkwashing
War on Gaza statistics: https://www.aljazeera.com/news/longform/2023/10/9/israel-hamas-war-in-maps-and-charts-live-tracker
Edinburgh book festival ends Baillie Gifford sponsorship: https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/articles/cm553zrr3e4o
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blueskittlesart · 21 hours
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in the nicest and most non-confrontational way possible. i feel like some of you think that anything that isn't directly openly spelled out for you within a story is "missed potential" or "unexplored." like. sometimes there are implied narratives. sometimes the point is that you as the reader are supposed to think and draw your own conclusions and participate in the story. the writers not directly spelling every little detail out for you doesn't mean that the story is poorly written or missed its own plot details somehow. PLEASE.
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anantaru · 3 days
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synopsis. you always struggle to take boothill inside :(
cw. size kink, your hands are cuffed, big dick boothill, petnames used: baby, princess, fem! reader ᰔ
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it's always the same.
boothill's cock was just that big and he cannot for the life of himself fit inside your tight, little cunt— you're too tight for him, you hear?
but you want it, you know, you need to take it because you yearn for the galaxy ranger to call you a good girl, or baby, anything you'd like, really— he'd do it all for you, he cannot stop praising you until he can see you buck your hips into his erection.
take it all, sweet and high, with your hands cuffed above you and his weight heftily leaning over you with a possessive hand holding against your jaw to force your look upon his own. right then, feel here, when you whine out embarrassingly high the moment he drags through the tight compression of your hole, immediately pulling out a cry from your throat that touched the depths of his heart.
boothill thrusts slow, and every time he pulls his soaked cock out to leave his tip in, he observes your face curiously, studying it, noting how you react to his impossibly fat tip splitting your hole effortlessly filthy.
that feral look he's got in his eyes, you wonder if you could ruin him any further, but no;
you're going to break in two, his cock will break you, he will break break break you— a series of alarm clocks rummage through your psyche to warm you yet you do not spend a single second into giving them any notable attention, instead you ignore it and let yourself get fucked harder and harder.
a moment of fumbling, licking and stroking, slowly, feel him slowly when he inserts himself again fully, and then the webbing of your walls around his shaft tighten as he tugs your legs wider apart, opening you up to a better taste.
"yeah? right there, baby? that feel good princess?" and you just have to take it, like that, deep and slow and so sensual, your wet pussy gripping tightly like claws on his length, you need it, right? have to show him, gasp and whimper and take it.
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©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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shotmrmiller · 2 days
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Simon doesn't care how he comes. He doesn't care if it's your smaller hand wrapped around his fattened cock, tugging it with a gentle twist, smearing the bead of arousal that's welled up from his slit with your thumb. Doesn't care that he usually fucks his fist roughly after a hard day's work with blood still crusted on his fingernails, hard enough to ache. The way you sit beside him, the soft swell of your breasts pressed against the corded muscle of his arm, murmuring words of praise that have his cheeks alight with a rosy glow—
He doesn't care if you use your mouth (you asked, ofc) your mouth is warm around him, the gummy inside of your cheeks slippery— the constricting back of your throat even more so. He sits still, like a good boy, not bucking his hips up, not pushing your head down to take as much of him as you can.
Doesn't care if you make him fuck your thighs— intercrural, you'd called it. How could he when your soft thighs are so smooth and pliable, enveloping his leaky cock with their warmth? Certainly doesn't mind when he glides his head along your slick folds, occasionally catching your swollen clit, hearing your little sharp intakes of breath.
Simon doesn't care where he comes, either. If it's a hand job, he spurts hot, viscous pleasure onto his pudgy stomach, coating the dark trail of hair below his navel and making a mess of your hand. (If you lick his come off your fingers, he's asking you to grow old with him asap)
If it's a blow job, he'll give you a heads-up with a rumbled, "'m, close, so close—" and that's your cue to either pull away, let him paint your cheeks with his spend, or swallow every single drop. (Or let it drip onto his jeans, none of it matters just don't stop)
He'll slicken your inner thighs with his sticky cum, scoop up some of it with his callused fingers, and slather it over your puffy pussy, using it as lube to rub you to completion.
So, when you casually ask him how he feels about a breeding kink as if you were commenting on the weather, his heart threatens to burst out of his chest. Are you asking him for a kid?
But you don't notice how his pupils dilate a fraction or how the skin around his eyes tightens, the corners forming small creases as you continue. "Because I'd been thinking," a small pause, "to spice things up a little—" before he even gets a word in, you raise your hands up in a calming gesture. "Not like there's anything wrong with what we're doing now."
There's a subtle shake to your hands and the grooves of your palms catch the light. Sweaty. You're nervous. This isn't just about him filling you with his cum. He's already done that before— pressed his tip right into your swollen entrance mere moments before finishing. he lets you gather your thoughts, unsnag the words caught in your throat.
And when you finally steel your nerves and say what you want to say (garble, more like) the shrill ringing in his ears is deafening. "You wan' me to wear a rubber 'nd let you take it off." Had he misheard?
The way your bottom lip is caught between your teeth, gaze lowered to the ground, your fingers twisting and turning, uncertain. So he hadn't. Well. How could he say no? Granted, he doesn't understand it, but for his girl? Anything.
He comes to understand it the very first time it happens.
Rolling on the rubber hadn't been different. nor the way he gently stretched you with one finger, two. The spit he'd used as lube to cause you as little discomfort as possible mingling with your own slick, dripping down his rugged knuckles. He takes his time as always, slipping between your spread thighs, watching your face twist, kiss-swollen lips part as he sinks into your heat. He goes slow, hearing you hiss between your teeth, your blunt nails sinking into his chest. He'll have red, angry welts later alongside his dog tags. Claimed by both duty and his little love. "Marked like property," he'd joked once.
You hadn't found it so funny. (Johnny got it though.)
Even with the very small difference in sensation, you're still the best thing he's ever felt. You take him like you're meant for him and maybe you are, but he smothers that train of thought quickly with a heavy hand lest he finish when the fun's just begun.
He feels you shift, even with his body weight that presses down on you with the gravity of a boulder, and he sinks to the root— like a pebble falling into still waters. Your nails tear skin, draw blood. The biting sting of it sends a shiver that sweeps over his goosepimpled skin, arousal tangling in his spine. He bucks his hips in reflex, hard enough to jolt you upward. The discomfort on your face quickly melts away, the sweetened burn of his thick cock prying your tender walls apart finally bleeding into white-hot pleasure.
Simon thrusts again, this time deliberately. Again. And again. He keeps them shallow, dragging the ribbed edges of the condom along your sensitive nerves, gently trying to coax a lazy orgasm out of you— the ones that always leave you syrupy and warm.
He focuses on you. Swirls your peaked nipples with his thumb, nestles his face in the crook of your neck, warm breath fanning over your heated skin. Simon licks a hot stripe over your fluttering pulse, presses a chaste kiss on it, nips your sensitive skin with a little too much pressure when you squeeze down around him—
Cheeky minx.
He snaps his hips, hard enough to rattle your spine, hard enough to hear the way the oxygen is ripped from your lungs. Simon keeps at it, resolute in getting you to the edge, dragging you with him, taking you over.
And then he hears you slur out a couple of words through your gasps. "C'ndom," you mewl, "the condom, off."
Right. He peels himself off of you. He'd almost forgotten —
You're impatient, pushing him away with your bare feet on his chest until he pulls out with a pop, trembling fingers reaching his twitching cock. The rubber comes off after a moment and while he's distracted by the creamy slick coating it, you're already putting him back in you, and your cunt feels sublime.
Divinity. He feels intoxicated.
The pleasure he felt before feels muted now, in comparison. Dull, almost. You feel hot, almost burning— swallowing him up, wet, so wet. The way your walls flutter around him jumbles his thoughts, tangles his tongue. He grinds down onto you with grit teeth, nostrils flared as he tries to keep the searing coil in his gut from unspooling, but he fears it's a losing battle. Beads of sweat roll down the side of his face as he fucks into your tight cunt with a hunger that borders on desperation.
He can see, and hear, that it's different for you too. Your keens and mewls are loud, nails scoring trails of red down his back. Simon leans back a bit, enough to let you watch his cock split you open, strings of sticky arousal connecting between you two. When he changes angle, aiming for your (and his) favorite spot with precision, the squeal you let out stiffens his spine.
Simon needs to hear it again. He grabs you by the cheeks, forcing you to look at him with those pretty, glassy eyes that glimmer with tears. Saliva pools in his mouth at the thought of tasting salt. "Like tha'?" The delicate strands of your eyelashes are clumped together with overwhelming sensation.
When you don't answer, he gives your hood a gentle tap, striking right above your clit. "I asked you a question." He grunts when your pussy almost strangles his cock at his gravelly tone. Simon will remember that for later.
"Yes," you breathe. "Yes, god, just like that." As a reward, he uses his thumb to draw tight little circles over your pearl, fucking you with his full weight behind every thrust. The blissful expression on your features, spit glistening in the corner of your lips, your hand flat, fingers spread wide over your lower belly as if to feel him from the outside— it's enough to almost toss him over that crumbling edge.
But he takes more. Selfish, greedy. Takes what's his with fervor; wholly, unapologetically. "This," he pushes until he can go no more, his tip meeting a firm resistance, "is better than everythin' I've ever had." Maybe it's a stupid thing to say, right here when he's rearranging your guts around to make room for his fat cock, but he's drunk off of you.
There's no thinking clearly with the slick noises echoing in the stuffy room. There's no seeing clearly when his world has narrowed to a single point of contact.
You're squeezing around him like a vise, tight enough that his nerve endings prick with pain. But he keeps going. He takes, he gives, he yearns to watch you unfurl at the edges forever, on his fingertips, on his tongue, his cock but you—
You are both his ecstasy and ruin. He can see it in the way the corners of your pretty mouth curl upward, teasing, eyes glinting with mischief, with the same kind of trouble that ensnared him into your orbit that one lousy night.
"Come in me."
Bloody fucking trouble.
(He wants all of it. The you who'll complain about the hard surface of the kitchen table he'll bend you over. The purple marks he'll pepper on your neck, your collarbone. The you that fights tooth and nail over him eating beans on toast.)
He watches you with half-lidded eyes as his fingers and his cock toss you overboard into the tumultuous sea of euphoria and then— when you're a drooling, limp mess— only then, does he finally surrender, balls drawn up painfully tight,
and fills you to the brim, until there's no more room left in your swollen, greedy pussy. Until it spills from your hole in thick rivulets, until there's no more of him left to give.
(He doesn't do rings. It'll get the both of you killed should he ever get caught. Maybe a tattoo for him and a band for you? Gotta text Price in the morning.) <- oh what barebacking does to a simple man such as he.
this was supposed to have been a 600 word drabble hello. he's clingy and squishy and so sickeningly in his emotions.
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augustinewrites · 2 days
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yesterday afternoon - after an unsuccessful coffee shop date - you’d decided that dating sucked. it was much too awkward and formal and not at all like it was in the movies, putting too much pressure on the people involved.
last night - after watching shoko flirt her way into free drinks - you’d been tipsy enough to take her advice. 
casual sex! it doesn't have to be with a stranger, just pick someone you know. someone you’re sure you won't fall in love with.
this morning you’d woken up to find gojo laying in bed next to you.
you lay shoulder to shoulder with the one person you should not have picked, staring up at the ceiling, waiting for the other person to speak. 
“did we really–” 
“three times,” satoru confirms happily, rolling onto his side to grin down at you. “i'm surprised we didn't do this sooner, really. our sexual tension has always been off the charts.”
when he leans in to kiss you, his lips meet your palm as your expression wrinkles. “don’t get familiar.”
“we’re naked together in bed– we slept together in more than the literal sense. can’t get more familiar than that.” 
“and this never happen again,” you promise, refusing to look at him. 
“why? because you’re afraid you’ll fall in love with me? it’s okay to admit it. i'm extremely lovable.” 
you’ve seen the way girls fawn over him. how they swoon over his pretty eyes and confident smile. he’s satoru gojo. a legend amongst jujutsu society. you’re no one in comparison, not a user of an otherworldly cursed technique, not from a major clan. 
people like him don’t fall for people like you. you’re afraid of rejection, afraid of being hurt. 
“we’re friends,” you tell him honestly. “i don’t want to risk ruining our friendship over something like this.” 
he tilts his head as your look at him. “shoko told you to try casual sex, didn't she? why not with me?”
“she told you?” you groan, dragging a hand down your face and making a mental note to never ask your roommate for advice for anything ever again. 
“hey, look at me,” he urges, grasping your hand. you do as he says, meeting his earnest gaze. “i can be casual and chill, it’s not like i have a huge crush on you or anything.” 
it’s so hard to say no to him. you really wish you could.  
“i’ll think about it,” you tell him, rolling your eyes when he fist pumps. “but you need to go home before shoko sees you.” 
but you’re dealing with satoru gojo, who almost never does what he’s told. “you’re not getting rid of me that easily. come here.”
he winds an arm around you, pulli my you in so you’re snug against his chest. explicit memories of last night flash through your mind, sending heat through your veins.
 “i can’t.” you tell him (though you’re mostly reminding yourself.) this is insane— satoru, what are you—”
you’re cut off when he shushes you, whispering let’s sleep in for a little while longer. 
he starts to drift off again as you struggle to escape his grasp, but your efforts are futile. even on the throes of sleep, satoru is stronger than you. 
so you give up, resigning yourself to a few more minutes of…cuddling. shoko isn’t a morning person anyways.
after a minute, you find it's not entirely awful. it’s a purely physical reaction. gojo is good looking, even with his hair mussed with sleep and his mouth hanging open. because you know that under the softness of his skin lays defined muscle, and spending the morning in his nicely toned arms isn’t the worst thing in the world. 
(it’s purely physical, is what your head tries to convince your heart, which is beating a little faster than usual.)
a very soft, content sigh slips past your lips. 
then, shoko knocks on your door. 
“hey! don’t tell me you’re too hungover for grocery shopping.” 
“shit!” you whisper harshly, shoving him away from you. “she cannot see you in here.” 
“afraid you’ll have to share?” he teases, narrowly avoiding being hit with a pillow. “okay, okay! where do you want me?”
“closet!” you instruct, scrambling my around the room to make sure none of his clothes are lying around. you thrust them into his hands, pushing him into your closet. 
he catches the door before you can close it, smiling down at you. “aren’t you glad we’re doing this?”
you shove him inside, slamming the door shut just ask shoko bursts into the room.
“hey,” you greet, trying your best to appear casual as you lean against the door. your heart beats in your throat, as she squints at you, then lets her gaze sweep across the room.
“did you bring someone home last night?”
“no.”
she looks at you. really looks at you, you think. 
“okay,” she finally says, though you can’t tell if she believes you. “i just– i thought i saw you leave with gojo. suguru said you two were flirting all night.”
“gojo and i?” you try to laugh, but it comes out a little strained. “never in a million years.”
shoko only shrugs, and you let yourself relax when she turns to leave…
…only for her to turn around once more, leaning the the doorframe. “well if you really don't like him, just let him down easy, alright? suguru told me he has a huge crush on you.” 
wait–
“gojo?”
you hear a sharp inhale through the door. 
“yeah,” she nods. “you really couldn't tell?”
gojo…has a crush on you. it takes a few seconds to truly sink in. “i had no idea.” 
“of course you didn't. he’s definitely got a really weird way of showing it.”
she turns to leave for real this time, but you wait a couple extra seconds before opening your closet, finding a wide eyed, blushing satoru staring at you. 
you can't help but laugh. at his expression, at shoko’s revelation, at this entire situation.
dating sucks, but maybe it won’t be that bad if it’s with him.
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I get mail
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I, a total stranger, was thinking of befriending your kid, but before I did, I thought I'd ask you, are they a boring, selfish jerk?
It's fine if they are, I'm just really trying to find quality people to be friends with, so I thought I'd ask you, is your kid a dick?
Wait, don't get offended! How are people supposed to know whether to hang out with your kid if you can't answer a simple question?!
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I, a total stranger, was thinking of inviting myself over to your house for dinner.
But before I do, I wanted to ask, is your cooking insipid, greasy and terrible?
Honestly, it's not problem if it is, I'm just trying to focus on eating food that isn't shit.
Oh, come on, don't be so touchy! How is anyone supposed to know whether to eat the food you cook if you won't tell them whether it sucks?
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lymtw · 3 days
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Toji invites you over with a simple text of:
You busy tonight, doll?
To which you respond:
I don't think so... Not that I know of. Why?
Toji laughs through his nose when he reads your message. Even the way you text him has your timidness imbued into it. It's precious.
Come spend the night at my place. You told me you're off tomorrow, right?
I am, but are you sure? Driving home is not a problem for me. I can hang out and go home after.
You're staying. I wanna try something with you and it requires you to stay the night. You can't go home.
Oh okay! I'll be there in 10.
Drive safe.
Toji likes that you're very precise about the time you'll be arriving somewhere, and if you're ever late when it comes to spending time with him, you apologize profusely, nonstop. You won't stop blubbering about why you're late and how sorry you are for making him wait, even after Toji's expressed that he's more than understanding. He's the king of showing up late to plans, so he can't be a hypocrite and scold you when you don't do it often at all.
You're so sorry, though, and you don't shut up about it until he makes you shut up with a kiss. You're helpless, and you can't for the life of you figure out where to put your hands when you're so focused on the grip he had on your waist to pull you up against him.
He releases your lips, cracking a grin at the look of wonder on your face. He can't deny the pride that swells in his chest at his ability to disarm you and prevent you from having a total meltdown over a three minute delay.
Toji has gotten so much better at handling situations like these with you. It's only fair for him to gain satisfaction out of making you feel better. After all, you are a first for him. You're emotionally fragile, you're a nervous wreck, and your voice competes with the wind just to be heard. Toji doesn't set aside the fact that you're also beautiful, warmhearted, and you try for him. He sees your attempts to be affectionate. You'll slowly reach your hand out to hold his and then bail the second he catches you. He ends up having to interlock his fingers with yours because your embarrassment doesn't allow you to try again. He still appreciates that you leave your comfort zone for him and allow him to guide you towards new experiences.
"Stop with the guilty feelings, ma. We have all night and all day tomorrow. What's a couple minutes to ensure you get to me in one piece?" He says, comforting your droopy self. You look like a sad, abandoned puppy, now sporting rosy cheeks from his surprising gesture.
"Okay," you say, feeling a little more at ease. "What did you have in mind for tonight?"
"Follow me," he says, leading you through his living room to his kitchen. He pulls out a stool for you and points at it. "Sit." You want to laugh at the way he says it like he's teaching commands to a dog, but you know he doesn't mean it that way, so you obediently sit down like one anyway.
"Have you eaten anything?" He asks, silently hoping you have because he doesn't have anything to make you dinner. He would have to order in or pick something up.
"I ate a couple hours ago. Still pretty full," you respond, watching him reach up for something in his cabinets. There's now a tall glass bottle with a red label and matching cap sitting on the counter.
"How 'bout it?" He says, a large hand wrapped around the neck of the bottle. "We could go to the couch and watch a movie or something."
He's never seen you under the influence of anything, but based on your reaction, maybe he'll get a show tonight. He's always wanted to know what you would be like if you were more extroverted and outspoken. There's nothing wrong with the way you are, but if things keep going the way they're going between you and Toji, he's bound to meet your chatty alter ego at some point in the future. What better way to have this experience than in a secure place with someone who can handle their alcohol and take care of you if it turns out that you can't.
"Okay, sure." You giggle, excitedly.
You're a lightweight. Even the fruitiest, sweetest alcoholic beverage will quickly take a toll on you while you're sipping on it. Wine is a step up, so you'll have to try your best to keep it together for the sake of not looking sloppy in front of Toji.
Toji brings down two glasses, and pours out the deep red liquid into them. One for you, one for him. He hands the glass to you, and nods at your quiet "thank you".
Toji watches as you immediately take a sip. He sees the way your nose scrunches at what you consider to be a funny taste, but the second you put the glass down, you smile like nothing. You don't like it at all. You hate the bitterness, and the fact that it's made with fermented grapes lives in the back of your head.
"How is it?" He asks, holding back a chuckle. You're too sweet for your own good, pretending to enjoy this for him.
"I like it," you say, pressing your lips together.
"Yeah? I think it's kinda gross. Guess I was expecting more from a fancy ass bottle, but brands are gonna brand, huh?"
You giggle, almost involuntarily. You're one gulp in, and already you're starting to feel the effects.
One of your worst habits includes chugging drinks that don't taste good, just so you can get them over with. You even do this when your drink is messed up at coffee shop. You're too nice to ask the barista to remake it, so you suck it up and drink the incorrect beverage solely for the caffeine you hope it has in it. This time is no different. You hate the taste of alcohol. You don't do plain shots, you can't stand hard ciders, and wine is no exception, but you're doing this for Toji. He cracked open the bottle to share with you, so you're going to drink every ounce of the liquid in the glass, whether you like the taste or not.
You bring the glass to your lips again, taking a much larger sip. The glass is a little less than halfway now, and your eyelids are starting to feel a little heavy. Not in a sleepy manner, but you can't seem to hold your eyes open as wide anymore.
You exhale through your nose, shut your eyes, and then blink them back open to take note of your altered state.
"That was a lot. How are you feeling?" Toji asks, noticing a shift in your demeanor. You seem a little more sluggish now. You turn your attention to him, your eyes rolling when they turn to meet his.
"I'm good, how are you?" You ask, like it was the start of a conversation rather than an ongoing one. Your eyes almost shut completely when you smile at him.
"You're tipsy already, aren't you?" He asks, with a grin on his face.
"Pshh, what? No, i'm not," you say, contradicting yourself with a giggle. "Answer the question, baby. How are you?"
"Fine," he responds, lingering on the pet name. You've got loose lips, now. In any other circumstance, you would address him by his name. Most of the time Toji is the one giving you pet names, for the sake of flustering you. He loves the way you look at him when he calls you doll or sweetheart, somewhat shocked every time the words leave his mouth.
"Yeah? That's good." You pick up the glass one more time, sighing before you mutter, "'scuse me. Gotta finish this."
With that last sip, the glass was now empty. Even Toji thinks you drank that too fast, but he still has the courtesy to ask you if you want more.
"Mhm, I'll have a little bit more. Just a tiny bit." Toji pours as much as he did the first time, chuckling when you nod in approval of the quantity. "That's perfect. Absolutely, perfect. You're a genius, my love." You flash him a smile before starting on the next glass.
Toji was considering having another glass, but that was before you called him "my love" in a tone so warm that he felt like he just had a bowl of hot soup that was now settling in his stomach. That was before you smiled at him in such a free spirited manner. It was too late for him to see you in this state while completely sober, but he sure as hell wouldn't be adding anymore alcohol to his system. He can't miss something like this, so instead he leans forward on the counter, and intently watches your every move.
"I got something on my face?" You ask, dragging your sleeves all over your face. You examine your sleeves and they're clean. "You liar. You're looking at me like that for nothing." You squint at him, a slight scrunch in your nose to define your defensiveness.
Toji laughs, his focus now on the small pinch in your brows. "Don't go picking fights over nothing. It's not a crime to look at my pretty baby."
Your faux tough exterior immediately crumbles, the irked expression on your face dropping to the ground, at the sugary words he uses on you. Your face feels very warm, and now there's an indefinite blush on it. You can't stop smiling at the look on Toji's face. He's so focused that he's gone speechless, and you eventually break into a laughing fit because of it.
"Hey... i'm usually the quiet one. Why aren't you talking, pretty boy? Need me to shut up?"
The pet name has Toji glancing at your glass, noticing that it was full for less than five minutes. This was new— you being flirtatious towards him. He didn't have any complaints about it whatsoever.
Once again, the quantity of the wine in your glass was below the halfway mark. "Nah, baby. Talk to me. You must really like the wine, huh?"
"Mmm..." you lean forward towards him, with your elbow on the counter and your chin in your palm. "What makes you say that?"
He actually snickers this time, earning a sly grin from you. "You're chugging it like it's water. It's either you love it or it tastes like ass and you're dying to spit it out."
You pick up the glass again, one last time. "Let's find out if I like it," you say as if you're not on your second serving. You let the liquid hit your tongue, and you are instantly repulsed by the flavor. The glass is tilted all the way up, signaling that you've finished two cups of wine in less than fifteen minutes. Your cheeks are filled with the drink, blown up like a puffer fish, which makes Toji smile softly with anticipation for your reaction. Your tongue stays on the roof of your mouth, keeping the wine in your cheeks separate, to give you a break for a few seconds. You release the bubbles of your cheeks and your mouth is flooded with the bittersweet liquid. You swallow the burgundy mouthful and smile with your lips pressed together once it's all gone. The mouth drying effect of wine is your least favorite thing about it.
"So?" Toji prompts.
"It's-" you gag, clasping a hand over your mouth with wide, slightly teary eyes.
Toji's chest and shoulders shake as he contains his laughter, his lips pressed together tightly to stifle the smile threatening to show itself, but his eyes tell you everything.
"Wooo, sorry about that," you say, chuckling through the embarrassment. "It's good," you repeat, still muffled by your palm.
"Yeah? Want more?" Toji asks, holding up the bottle with a teasing grin on his face.
You almost gag again but manage to control yourself. "No, thank you. Any more and I'll doze off, and we both know that's not what i'm here for." There was a hint of sultriness in your tone, something Toji was not sufficiently familiar with. It was a completely welcome shift from your normally tentative way of speaking to him.
"I know why you're here, but I wanna know what you think you're here for."
You stand from your stool and lean more of your body onto the counter. Your hand reaches for his, and for the first time, you don't pull back before making contact with his skin. "To love on you, of course," you say, with those pretty rosy cheeks. Your eyes remained glossy and your nose was still red from trying not to bring the wine back up earlier, but Toji thought you looked so cute.
"Is that right?" His thumb brushes over your knuckles, feeling the softness against his rough fingertip.
"Let's go watch that movie you were talking about and you'll see what I mean."
Toji was loving this. Your confidence, your lack of holding back anything you had to say, it was truly baffling how you could be someone else entirely with just a couple glasses of wine.
You keep his hand in yours, and as if it were your house, you say, "come on," and drag him along to the living room.
This time you say "sit" and point at the couch. This time he's the obedient dog and does as you say, sitting on the exact cushion you were pointing at with a smirk on his face. He moves the couch pillow aside to make room for you, but you had another seat in mind. You take two steps towards him before slowly dropping yourself into his lap, straddling him.
"I see you're finally taking your seat on the throne, hm?" He grins, resting his hands on your waist. This is the closest Toji's been allowed to watch you giggle without you burying your face into his neck and it's a trip. He can see the details of the creases around your eyes and the lift in your cheeks as you smile. He feels fuzzy, and he didn't even finish his glass of wine, so he knows it's not that.
"Stop making me laugh and pick a movie, will you? I'm here for that, too."
He picks up the remote for the TV and turns it on. "How are you gonna watch the movie while facing me?"
"Actually,.. can I tell you a secret, baby?" You ask, wrapping your arms around his neck. Your fingers play with the hair that reaches towards the nape of his neck, combing through it gently.
"What's that, princess?" Toji asks, vert eyes flitting between your eyes and that sweet smile of yours.
"I don't wanna watch a movie. I... wanna look at you... and that's it." Your nails gently scratch the back of his head, eliciting a tingly sensation that makes chills run down his spine.
"That's cool, too," Toji says, turning the TV off again, not caring that it was on for less than a minute before you changed your mind. He sighs, adjusting his position beneath you. Your thighs are secured around his hips, your knees touching the backrest of the couch.
"You're so handsome, my baby. God, look at those eyes," you whisper in awe, before giggling and bringing your hands to his face. You trace the bags under his eyes with your thumbs while admiring the haunting shade of green that scopes on you. Toji's hand comes up to loosely wrap around your wrist. He's not there to stop you, he just wants to move along with you as you observe his face.
"I know I don't say this to you enough, but I find you..." you sigh, blinking slowly, "enchanting..." You lean in and kiss the left corner of his lips—his right, and feel the smooth, tattered skin beneath your warm lips. "and I love you," you mumble into the cicatrix. "So fucking much, baby. And i'm sorry that you'll never know exactly how much because you aren't me." You're looking at him with so much adoration and touching him with a delicacy that can't be put into words. It's a deadly combination, one that has Toji in a chokehold and forces him to soften up even more for you.
He tightens the hold he has on your waist, pulling you closer until your stomach is pressed to his, as a result. You being so affectionate towards him is making him feel really good, and you have no idea because you're too focused on appreciating him. He's subconsciously leaning into your touch, his softened gaze meeting your lovestruck one.
"Fuck. I love you, too, princess," he murmurs, squeezing your wrist in his hand. He pulls your hand down to his chest. "Want you to aim for my lips, this time."
"Okay," you say, smiling before closing the distance between your lips and Toji's. He can still taste the remnants of the wine you inhaled minutes ago, but it tastes much better and a lot sweeter on you. Toji can hear your high pitched little hums as you kiss him, happiness pouring into your kisses. You're trying so hard not to laugh in his face, and trying is the best you can do, right now. You never were good at hiding your smile from Toji. He can't see it, but he can feel the way your lips widen, and he's occasionally kissing your teeth when your sluggishness keeps you from matching his pace. With little pants leaving you, you drag your lips away.
He sighs, frustrated by the loss of your softness against him. "Baby..." he groans, the sound almost whine-like to your ears. He wants more, so much more of you, and you're ignoring him. You're too busy kissing his chin, and his cheeks, and the tip of his nose.
You drag your other hand down to his chest and keep your hands splayed out on it as you let your lips trail his jaw, lightly sucking on the skin. Toji can't help but think about how this version of you will be gone in the morning. You won't be as outwardly affectionate, you'll go back to second guessing every move you make with him and shrinking every time he steals kisses from you, instead of confidently kissing him back like you did a minute ago.
You make your way down his neck, pressing kiss after kiss on him before you move towards his ear. "I love you, Toji," you whisper, kissing the shell of his ear after. "Love you, love you, love you soooo much," you barrage, before throwing him off with a bite to his earlobe. You giggle like a menace into his ear, the warmth of your breath luring goosebumps out onto his skin.
He chuckles, repeatedly squeezing the soft skin of your waist between his hands. "Yeah? Tell me again," he murmurs snaking his hands beneath the back of your shirt. Your skin is very warm, and there's nothing to blame but Toji and that shitty wine for making your body react this way.
With uninterrupted hands, you course your fingers through his hair and lean in to bite him again, this time on his neck. Toji chuckles at how you instantly rush to soothe him with your tongue and a warm kiss, even when you inflicted zero pain on him.
"I love you, Toji," you repeat into the wet indentations you left behind. "My love... my handsome man... I cherish you, you know?"
Toji is practically purring at all the affection you're showering him with. The slurring of your words is blocked out and they remain clear as day to him. He manages to hum a deep little "mhm" to your last statement.
"It's just so hard to talk to you sometimes. You... you're so intimidating, sometimes. I don't expect you to understand..." you divert your gaze to his shoulder, not able to look him in the eyes as vulnerability takes sudden control of your emotions. "It seems like I don't appreciate you sometimes—all the time, but I do, Toji. I do appreciate you, and I can't ever say I love you enough to show it. Words aren't always enough."
Toji catches the waver in your voice and his eyes dart to yours. You're tearing up, and you're trying to still your quivering lips by pressing them together.
"Shit," Toji mutters under his breath. You have the saddest expression he's ever seen and it's messing with his heart. He pulls his hands out of your shirt so that he can swiftly pull you into his warm embrace. "Hey," he coos. You're shaking against him, holding your breath to avoid sobbing. Your lungs burn, but you'd rather feel that than make a scene of your tears. "Don't be sad, mama. What's with the tears, hm?" he murmurs. He can feel your tears dampening his shoulder, but the fact that you haven't made a sound is concerning. "Breathe or you'll die," he says, only half joking. He rubs a soothing palm against your back, his other arm around your waist.
You let out what sounds like a mixture between a choked laugh and a sob, slowly but surely regulating your breathing. You don't even feel like saying anything anymore because you know your voice will give way to even more pity.
"You're more than enough for me," Toji says, his chin resting on your head. "I know how you feel, you know how I feel. We're complete." He can feel the way you scrunch his shirt up into your fists. As if he would go anywhere without you. "I get you and you're stuck with me. Got it?" You silently nod against his shoulder in response. "Sit up and let me look at you."
You really don't want him to see you this way. Your eyes feel swollen and you don't feel presentable.
"I can't..." you say, barely audible. You release his shirt and let your hands go limp behind him.
"Why not?"
"I'm not pretty right now. Don't look at me."
"I'm gonna look at you," he challenges with a teasing grin.
"Toji, don't look at me."
"Too late, it's happening. Plan's already in motion," he says, sliding his arms onto your shoulders.
"Toji, don't-" He effortlessly pushes you off his shoulder and gives you a once over. You look defeated and you're unable to look him in the eyes, but at least he can see you now.
"Don't know what you were so worried about. You look the same but more blush-y." You finally give him your slightly reddened eyes, a soft smile appearing on your face. You look like your sober self. "Yeah, you look the same."
"Are you lying?" You ask, still not regaining the full strength of your voice yet.
"I wouldn't tell you if I was, but no, i'm not lying. You're so pretty." Toji wiped away tears that were stuck beneath your eyes, and you giggled. He washed away your sadness within a couple minutes. Toji always did this for you in exchange for your love and affection. He lifted your spirits when you didn't feel deserving of him, and with time, he got much better at recognizing the signs that came with this ridiculous idea you planted in your head.
"You're done loving on me? Already?" He asks in playful disbelief.
"You're not done with me? Do you actually want more?" You ask, hesitantly.
"Don't want more, I need more," he corrects, returning his hands to their rightful place on your waist. "Get all up on me, princess."
You giggle, leaning closer towards him to peck a kiss onto his cheek.
"Mhm, like that," he says, contently, when you pick up the pace and start smothering him. "Yeah, baby, there you go." His forearms go beneath your shirt, encircling around your bare waist and pulling you close to him like before. "Who's getting spoiled like me?" He says through a grin. You're holding back laughs as he continues to praise you for your affection.
"S-Stop," you say through a wheeze, not able to contain the sound any longer when you looked at him.
"What are you laughing at, huh?" He chases you this time, pressing his nose into your cheek before planting a light kiss into your jaw.
"You're so unserious," you say, turning your head as he keeps going with the kisses.
"Mmm... I'm serious about you," he says, feeling the vibration of your laughter against his grin. "So serious."
Your cheeks feel incredibly hot from how much you've been smiling. In this little drunken haze, things are so good. You're so happy, you're so affectionate, and you talk so much. This isn't like you at all, but it's not hurting anyone, especially not Toji. There was one minor slip, but you moved past it so quickly like the words never left your head to begin with. You're just so simple... so easy to take care of.
Toji notices the way your eyes are starting to lid with tiredness, and while he would love for you to doze off in his arms right then and there, you'd probably prefer waking up in a bed.
"Let's go to bed, yeah?" He suggests.
"What? No! I just got here... We can still talk, and kiss and- I'm not even tired."
Toji grins at the way you fight him on this, and he has half a mind to indulge you when you look so adorable, but he has to stand his ground. He's right.
"But, you are. You can't even hold your eyes open, anymore."
You feel sad again because the rest of the night would be going to waste if you both go to sleep early. You're there to spend time with Toji, and yet you feel like it's your fault your time is being cut short. You're thinking you shouldn't have drank the wine so quickly, if at all.
"Listen, doll," Toji says. He doesn't like the sadness that resurfaces on your pretty face. He doesn't think you should look that way because of him. "We're just gonna go lay in bed. We don't have to go to sleep. We can stay up as long as you want. Light on or light off, whatever you wanna do, let's just move it to the room."
You sigh, still not completely convinced that the night isn't over, but Toji managed to persuade you. "Will you carry me, please? My legs feel like jelly."
"Of course. What kind of person would I be if I let you stumble into the room on your own?"
You sigh, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, your face buried into the crook of his neck. "You'd still be my favorite person, but i'd be a little upset..."
Toji stands from the couch, humming in response to your quiet mumbles.
"...but not really upset. Just a little bummed. Not for too long, though, 'cause I love you, but I would expect an apology from you if I fell down," you draw out.
Toji cracks at your little ramblings. It's a ten second walk from the couch to the bedroom, and the whole time you were working through a hypothetical conflict.
"Yeah? You'd want me to say sorry?" He asks, setting you down on the bed.
"Mhm, and then I wouldn't be upset or bummed anymore," you mutter to yourself as you roll onto your back.
"That's fair. Want the light on or off?"
"Off," you blurt. "Let's tell scary stories," you trill, enthusiastically. You pull the blanket over your lower body until it reaches just below your chest.
Toji makes his way to the bed after turning off the light. He takes his shirt off, and out of habit lets it fall to the floor. "We're not telling scary stories this late at night," he says, joining you beneath the blanket.
"But, they're funny," you say, turning to face him. "I don't get scared, either."
"Depends on who's telling the story. I'm sure as hell not gonna feed you a nightmare, doll."
"Boo," you say, lowly. "Whatever, i'm over it already," you mutter, rolling your eyes.
Toji watches you grow more and more tired as you throw random, nonsensical topics at him. You're taking longer to respond by the minute, and you're dozing off while humming in thought. You shake awake each time it happens and try to keep the conversation going, but Toji just shushes you and tells you to go back to sleep.
"I can see the moon through the window," you mumble, looking past him.
"I know, shh..." he hushes you, again.
"There's only like... one star," you whisper, in awe.
"Baby, come here," Toji says, like he's about to lecture you about the rules of sleep, but really he's just thinking that if his body heat doesn't put you down, he's gonna have to stay up with you until you fall asleep on your own.
You scoot closer towards Toji, tucking your arms into your chest when he reaches out to pull you into him the rest of the way. His body exudes so much warmth, you feel like you don't need the blanket at all.
There was nothing left for you to say when you couldn't see or feel anything but him. It was as if you were gone the second he enveloped you in his arms. You were small to the brink of nonexistence, no longer there to tell him what your surroundings were, or to ask him thoughtless, silly questions. You were no longer there to fight off the sleep he only seemed to bring closer towards you. Feeling his warm skin against you made you change your mind about this invisible fiend that was pulling your eyelids down. You now welcomed the calls to rest from your steady heartbeats.
Your silence gave him the answer he needed, but for good measure, he poked at you with a whisper of, "Ma?" and waited a few seconds for your response. Nothing. He sighed and coiled around you tighter. Thoughts of the night ran through his head. Your soft, yet, occasionally bruising kisses and the imprints of your teeth on his skin, your unapologetic laughter, your certainty in using the pet names that claimed him as yours. He was weak for the amount of times you openly told him you loved him. It was a psychedelic dream, to say the least. One he hoped would continue once he followed you into slumber.
You woke up hours later, completely smothered by your bear of a man. All you could do was stare up at the ceiling, while you waited for Toji to wake up because he was literally breathing down your neck. His arm rested over your chest, his legs were tangled with yours, and his face was right beside your face. You weren't feeling the effects of the wine anymore, and luckily, you didn't have a headache or any signs of a hangover. You were back, which meant...
"What are you staring at?" A deep, raspy voice jolts you out of your thoughts.
You look at the handsome face next to you, and as if your heart can hear and see, it wakes up. "Nothing. Just woke up," you lie.
"Mm... you were staring hard at the roof. I thought it came to life or something," Toji chuckles. You smile, briefly, before looking at the ceiling again.
Toji releases you and flips onto his back, wanting to know what's so fascinating about the space you're looking at. "What are you thinking?" He asks, when he discovers nothing but blank space.
You take your time, not wanting to stumble over your words. Your heart skips a beat when he turns his head to look at you. In the time it takes for you to respond, you both could have gone back to sleep again.
"A penny for your thoughts?" he finally says, following the idiom with a question. "Did I even use that correctly?"
You can't help but laugh, nodding your head to answer his question. "I'm thinking about last night. Sorry if I said anything stupid."
Toji turns his body towards you again, thinking the only thing that's stupid is that he's still staring at the roof instead of staring at you. "You didn't. You were calm, from what I got to see, at least."
"So... boring."
"Not boring," he instantly catches. "You were perfect. You didn't have me running around chasing you, you weren't a brat—it couldn't have gone better, ma." He purposely missed something in his less than brief recount of the night to you. He can think back to the emotions that seeped through your little daze, and your insecurity about outwardly showing him love, all he wants, but there's no way in hell he's bringing that up to you, now. "You ramble a lot," he adds, a soft smile emerging on his face.
You can feel your cheeks warming up. "Oh god," you groan in embarrassment. "That's not- Sorry, that sounds... not so fun. Annoying of me, actually."
"Stop, it was cute," he assures, adding more fury to the blush creeping on your face. "Then you wouldn't go to sleep 'cause you kept seeing stuff outside the window."
You wanted to drown yourself in the blanket. Shame and embarrassment were winning their battle against you, as always.
"That was also cute," he says, watching the way your lips twitch as you bite back a smile. "You know my favorite part, though?" He says, grinning as he leans towards your ear.
"N-No, what?" You ask, trying so hard not to giggle.
"When you kissed me and told me you loved me," he murmurs into your ear like it's a dirty secret.
You snicker, the short sound of amusement evolving into laughter within seconds. You throw the blanket over your face and partially over Toji's face. The sight of your veiled body shaking with laughter lured out a couple chuckles of his own.
"That's funny?" He asks, pulling the blanket down, allowing you to see the sly grin he's sporting.
"A little bit," you respond, smiling— a remainder of your laughter.
"Silly girl. Come here," he says, dragging you back into his arms. There's no reason you should be awake at six in the morning on your day off. "Let's go back to sleep," he murmurs into the crown of your head. "We can go out for breakfast, later."
"Okay," you mumble, eyes shut already as you embrace the natural warmth of his body.
"One more thing," he murmurs. You don't raise your gaze, but your ears are open and you're listening closely. "Tell me you love me."
You didn't expect that, but you weren't going to deny him of such a simple thing. The words were easy to recite because you meant them with every fiber of your being. "I love you, Toji," you comply, immediately.
He sighs, contently, almost like hearing those words revitalized him. "Love you, too, mama."
That went out to every version of you.
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konigsblog · 3 days
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This video screams König... (🌽 link)
König loves to stretch out your little pussy. He'll spend hours between your thighs prior to pushing himself inside your hole for the first time, working your pretty cunt open with his tongue and two thick and calloused fingers. He rolls the tip of his warm tongue back and forth against your clit, watching as you begin to wiggle and lift off of the mattress as you arch your back, whimpering quietly through the pleasure.
He'll use different sex toys on your pulsing holes to work you open, to roughen you up and get you familiar with the sensation of being stuffed full, even if you can barely string a coherent sentence together through delirium. Occasionally, König will stretch you out with different dildos, each toy varying in sizes, some thicker while others are lengthier. It's an addictive sight. Put yourself in König's shoes, how can he not obsess over the beautiful sight of your swollen cunny spread out? He records himself when he finally takes you after weeks of preparation. You're slick, drooling, and unable to stop the pleased moans that slip from your soft lips.
“Deep breaths, Mauschen. You’re doing so well, keep going, do it for me.” König's encouragement and the burning stretch between your legs leaves you dizzy and fucked-out stupid, your vision spotty and your pussy becoming wetter as König continues to grind into you, a grin curling the sides of his lips. I mean, how can you focus on his motivation and praise when he's slowly and gently rocking his strong hips back and forth while you slowly ease yourself down onto his girthy length? He's thick, girthy, and fat. His balls are firm and full of his creamy, hot release that he plans to plug your aroused cunt with. “So verdammt eng...” [So fucking tight...]
He keeps his phone at an angle where he can record the way you attempt to fit his entire length into the tightness of your smooth walls. Each vein dragging against your gummy cunt leaves you shaking like a leaf as you weakly bounce on his weeping dick, sobbing into his chest while easing into him for comfort, babbling out incoherently at the pleasurable stretch and thrill rushing through your bones.
“Take me, take every inch, just like I taught you to.”
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yanderenightmare · 3 days
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TW: yandere boyfriend, some toxic traits
gn reader
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Thinking about a bruiser boyfriend who loves it when you kiss his bloody knuckles after he’s finished beating someone to a pulp—who loves to grope the fat of your ass and thighs, sink his fingers into the plush, knead you like dough while sinking into the comfort of your lap face-first—getting all woozy with groggy moaning when you run your hand through his hair.
A rough boyfriend who kisses you oh-so-terribly softly—but who, no matter how gentle he tries to be, can never truly mask just how brutishly strong he actually is. You can always feel the burden hiding in the pressure of his fingertips lingering on your skin, doing everything in his power to hold back the full weight of his true power. 
A big brawny boyfriend who gets fed up with you sometimes—who, instead of yelling and cursing, instead just picks you up over his shoulder like a sack of flour and pays no mind to any of your protests except for a light slap on your ass, holding you there while you bang away at his back with balled fists, telling you he’ll let you down once you’re down acting like a brat—but who, at the same time, whenever makes you cry, gets down on both knees and puts his forehead to the floor, crawling forward until he’s right by your feet, kissing your ankles until you forgive him.
A trigger-happy, prone-to-jealousy boyfriend who squares up at any given chance when he thinks someone’s flirting with you, who barks just as hard as he bites and will happily sleep in a jailcell any night if it means he got to knock someone's teeth out for talking to you.
A massive boyfriend who loves drowning you in his clothes, who wants you to wear them always—who just shakes his head when you tell him it’s not flattering to your figure and tells you that nothing in the world suits you better. 
A ride-or-die boyfriend who tattoos your name on his bicep and talks you into getting his name on your ass. 
A no-filter boyfriend who tells you that he’d straight up murder you and bury you in his backyard if you ever dared leave him, who doesn’t give two shits whether it’s cliché or not—if he can’t have you, no one can.
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BNHA – Bakugou, Dabi
JJK – Sukuna, Toji
DS – Akaza, Inosuke, Sanemi
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specshroom · 3 days
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⋆˚🐾˖°
Wolf hybrid who is sooooo excited to experience his bunny hybrid partners first heat. So excited that he vastly underestimates just how horny bunnies are in heat.
He's expecting his cute little bunny partner (you) to cry and beg for his knot. Which you do and he knots and cums inside you twice but then right after his knot deflates you look up at him and go "Again?"
He's a little tired but he can't say no to you...
Until it's the sixth fucking round and you're still bouncing on his very overstimulated cock. He knows it's very bad to interrupt a bunny while they're so deep in heat but he might just pass out and you're so lost in the sauce you might just keep going if he does.
He needs to think of a way to satisfy you that won't literally kill him. He gets an idea and reaches for his phone. It's really embarrassing but the best thing he can think of at that moment is to open the group chat, aptly named "The Boys", and hastily text:
[Hey guys can u come over]
[I need sum help with something]
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whoistartaglia · 2 days
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trust falls with genshin mem
neuvillette would catch you and it would be something out of a romance novel. one hand supporting your back, the other your legs. the perfect bridal-style hold. when he realized you’re just playing a prank on him, he’ll gently and gracefully return you to your feet, and sneak a chaste kiss on your cheek as he does so.
wriothesley would try to be a bridal-style hold but start it too late. this leads to him to awkwardly clutch your legs and arm. he might try to adjust his hold and make it slightly better, but if he can’t, he’ll make you do it again, despite your protests it won’t be a surprise anymore. if he does convince you to give him a redo, he’ll have a mostly perfect hold, even as you playfully roll your eyes in faux annoyance.
zhongli would catch you before you even knew you were committing to the fall. a firm touch on your back stops the trust fall before you can even yell it out. what can he say, he knows you better than you do yourself sometimes. if you try to do it again later, zhongli will also best your attempt. and if you try once more, he’ll keep that hand lingering on your back. just in case.
xiao would be very confused and almost let you fall, until his instincts kick in and his body autopilots to catch you. his hold will be firm and uncomfortable as he rights you back to your feet. he gives you a look like what are you doing? he might also ask if you’ll ill, and if you admit it’s a prank he’ll laugh, once, and then ask you to never do that again. you and your mortal antics scare him sometimes, y’know?
childe is familiar with this prank from his siblings, and he’ll play one back, by not catching you until the absolute last second. you think you’re about the hit the cold hard ground, until childe’s hand slips under your back millimeters from the impact zone. everything after that is a whirl as childe bypasses getting you back on your feet, but instead hefts you over his shoulder, maybe twirling you around. what were you thinking, pranking someone with younger and older siblings?
kaeya would warn you that he’s not going to give into you’re little prank before you start the fall. he knows what you’re up to as you survey your surroundings and decide on a place to land incase he’s not quick enough. you ain’t that sly. if you should decide to go ahead with the prank anyways, you’ll see kaeya was just bluffing, even as he grumbles with you now in his arms. give him a peck on the lips, he deserves it.
diluc would literally stop everything to catch you. pouring a drink? it’s on the floor. reading a book? not anymore! his catch might not be terribly graceful, but it’s efficient and gets the job done. you don’t touch the floor and you’re not very disoriented by the end of it. he might ask you not to do that again, before huffing out a small laugh at your prank. a dusting of rose can be seen on his cheeks at the romantic position you put him it.
alhaitham will catch you without looking. yeah, he’s just kind of cool like that. you’ll do your trust fall and alhaitham’s arm will reach out, cushioning your fall and either guiding you to the floor or righting you immediately. he’ll only look at you when it’s over, raising an eyebrow in a judgemental stare, before returning to whatever he was doing beforehand. what can he say, he’s a busy scribe/acting grand sage/boyfriend.
kaveh would fall with you. whether he was also planning a trust fall or just decided to join in, you can’t decide. all you know it that you were falling, he was falling, and seconds later, you had landed, and so had kaveh. except you landed on a confused, slightly miffed, and a little hurt, kaveh. you both laid there in bewildered silence, both trying to understand what just happened. kaveh technically did break your fall, even if it was in rather unfortunate circumstances.
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nanaslutt · 3 days
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HI NANA ILY spiral anon again i have a request ^.^ reread ur 'stealing ur panties' smau and i'm so obsessed with the nanami one do u think u would ever write perv nanami? like as a coworker or an apartment neighbour stealing ur panties from the laundromat... idk i'm kinda obsessed w the concept n i need it TY <33 -🌀
ʚ cont: fem reader, perv!Nanami, panty stealing, fantasizing, jerking off, masturbation (r!)
ʚ note: my reqests are closed, i just woke up wanting to write a little and found this gem in my inbox
MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ
Perv!Nanami has been working so hard over the past year to get close to you, his pretty little neighbor. You have the same impression of him that everybody else shares about the handsome man; kind, gentle, and caring. And that's exactly what he wants you to think about him when he knocks on your door and asks you if you would like to eat with him because he "ordered too much takeout." Or when he so kindly comes to your house each week to take your laundry down to the shared washers and dryers the apartments provide because of, "convenience."
And of course, you say yes, how could you not? Nanami is such a good guy, and you know your clothes will be safe with him, that he'll treat them good and return them to you folded and smelling like poppies. And because NAnami is such a nice man, you never even think twice when he brings your laundry to you hours later and you're missing a pair or two of panties. You don't worry about it, they always show up sooner or later--and the pink pair sitting on top of the pile of freshly cleaned clothes? You could've sworn those have been missing for weeks but maybe they were just buried at the bottom of the pile and you missed them, yeah, that had to be it.
Nanami doesn't want you growing suspicious and he sure as hell doesn't want you spending your precious money on new panties if you think you're missing your old ones. He convinces you that you've been so busy lately and probably misplaced the undergarments after coming home and peeling your clothes off after a long day. You blush at the thought of Nanami seeing you in such a state, and the look on your face and the way you avert your eyes doesn't go unnoticed by the man in front of you, trying to convince you your panties will show up again.
And they always do. Right after Nanami finishes taking real good care of them, just like he'll do to you one day. After Nanami so generously offers to take your clothes down, he sets the basket on top of the already rattling dryer and closes the door so no one walks in and sees what he's about to do. God, he doesn't know what he would do if you walked in on him like this. At first, Nanami was good about taking your panties and hauling them up to his room to worship them, but the urge to have you only grew every day, leading him to now pull his pants down and wrap your panties around his cock almost the moment he steps inside the laundry room.
Nanami hastily digs through your basket, searching for the prettiest pair of panties as his sore cock throbs against his hard zipper, begging for release. He prays you didn't notice the way his cock strained against his pants when he was convincing you you lost your panties after a long day's work, hoping the basket he held over his crotch covered most of his problem. After acquiring his target, Nanami leans back against the door with his full weight and fishes his cock from his pants, hard and dripping between his legs, a little wetness falling and making contact with the floor.
Nanami wastes no time before holding your panties up to his nose and inhaling, his hand already working furiously over his cock, wet noises, and muffled grunts getting drowned out by the rattling dryer in front of him. The 'nice' man paints generous pictures in his head of his pretty little neighbor exhausted after work, barely closing her door before stripping off her clothes in the hall, leading to her room.
He's unable to stop the groan that surfaces as he drops his head against the door and lets his eyes fall shut, wrapping the part of your panties that touches your cunt against his tip, rubbing his own wetness against yours while jerking himself off with his other hand now, legs spreading the longer he goes. He feels himself already so close to the end as he pictures your dripping body in the shower, scrubbing the day off of you. He would spend so much time helping you get clean if he had the chance. He would also make sure to spend plenty of time washing your tits, wondering how long he could get away with groping you there before you figured out he had ulterior motives for cleaning you.
Nanami pulled his lip between his teeth as he imagined your now soaked body walking out of the shower, leaving a trail of water behind you from your poor job of drying off before you plopped down onto your bed, bedroom already dim as you reached a hand between your thighs, finding that ache, that need between them that would finally relax your sore body after such a hard day.
His thrusts speed up as he vividly watches you in his mind as you push a finger between your folds, gasping in relief before you start up a quick pace, your other hand alternating between playing with your clit and rubbing your chest. It usually doesn't take Nanami long once he gets to this point, his body lurching as his bach arches with spasms, his cock kicking against your panties as he dirties the fabric even more, drenching the poor thong in his thick cum that he would much rather give you, inside you.
The guilt of his acts never ceases to go away after he finishes defiling your panties, but he ignores it the best he can, putting the now ruined panties back in the hamper before he fishes out two more to keep for himself this week. Wonder if he would feel better about his deeds if he learned that his jerk-off fantasy wasn't all that wrong and that the person you use in your own fantasies to get off is your kind, gentle, and caring neighbor.
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