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#i have scratches on my legs too this is wild
angelltheninth · 11 months
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hsr men with inexperienced/virgin reader. How would they treat them and guide them?🤭Please include Blade and Jing Yuan in this
Love the virginity loss thing, it can be both sweet and intimate... or really kinky and corrupt. Like these two.
Pairing: Blade, Jing Yuan x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, virginity loss, guidance, corruption kink, size kink, blowjob, size difference, praise, degradation, clit stimulation, name-calling, dirty talk, biting, marking, scratches, kissing, hair-pulling (for Reader)
A/N: Two extremely different flavors here. Darker for Blade, softer for Jing Yuan.
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Blade delights in youf inexperiance, its so fun to him. Downright amusing actually. He has many things he would like to try with you, see how you handle them, what makes you moan, what makes you cry, what makes you arch your back, what makes you drool. Other then the sight of his cock that is.
He is only gentle for the first few thrusts. Even he knows he should take it a little bit easy on a first timer like you. The first time you had a real cock in your cunt, but definately not the first time you've had something inside is it. You're taking him too well for that. He's not the only one who has toys is he?
"I'll be damned, I've got a little slutty virgin on my hands. I knew you weren't as pure as you claimed. That hole is use to being streatched. But its still... ahh... so tight on a real man's cock. Don't worry, we got all night sweetheart, I'll make you into a real cockslut yet."
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Jing Yuan puts his hands on the back of your head, slowly threading them through your hair as your mouth closes in on his big cock for the first time. Don't feel pressure to take it all in for the first time, you can build up to it and... oh! Determined are you? You're being very good right now, focus your tongue on the tip a little more.
You're doing well for a someone who has never sucked cock before but as good as this feels he wants yku to feel good too. No need to be shy. Would you rather turn around? You don't have to look at him if its embaressing. He's happy ylu want to see his face, happy you're opening your legs. He's gonna make this as painless as he can. He is a lot to work with and its gonna take a while to get all of hkm in. If... fuck, he knows you're trying to stay still but... scrathing his back, biting his neck... you're gonna make him go feral bdfore you know it.
"Easy darling. I see how eager you are but for your sake I'll take it slow. Slow as I can. Heh, you say you want to see my wild side but honestly? You're coming just from the tip inside you, you can't handle my wild side. Yet."
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mydearlybeloathed · 6 months
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𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑, 𝐌𝐘 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘
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𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: even as you grow older, you'll always be his baby sister
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: strawhats x sanjissister!reader
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.5k
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: lowercase intentional, cursing, allusions to insecurities
𝐚/𝐧: this is basically just sanji curing my childhood wish for a big brother. i have more ideas about how sanji would be at his wits end with a reckless little sister so look out for those hehe
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i imagine sanji is two years older than you, but it never felt like it. you and him were never apart for too long, more by obligation than choice.
so it was no surprise when sanji dragged confused little you with him as he hid from the pirates invading the ship, only outing your hiding place in the name of saving his food from oregano.
you'd hurried after him, of course; that's all you knew to do at such a young age.
and when zeff had sanji up against the wall, being so young meant you also knew only one thing to do in this situation: you bit zeff, latching your teeth around his arm and drawing blood from his broken skin.
zeff howled and very nearly threw you into the wall as well, before his eyes zeroed in on you, this little girl with wild eyes and a mighty strong jaw. he only jerked you off him, then, staring from you to sanji then back to you. "wha—? what kind of little gremlin just bites a man?!" your eyes were steely. "I'm not a gremlin." then, "bitch." though it was clear you didn't understand what it meant, probably catching it from the other chefs of the now sieged ship. gritting his teeth, zeff continued on his shouting. it made you and sanji angry, and zeff marveled at how your expressions were twin–like, despite your difference in appearance. then, the ship had wrecked, and it all went downhill from there.
sanji always made sure you’d eaten more than him on that damn rock, even when you fought him and scratched him as he forced a morsel of bread into your mouth.
he'd held your hand as you cried the first ten days, and he had mourned when on the eleventh, your eyes took on a dead sort of sheen, like you were now a decade older in the head.
it was unnerving, really.
sanji learned a lot on that rock. like what it meant to be the responsible one, or at least more responsible than you.
sanji just wanted you to listen, but it seemed like all his words went in one ear and out the other. you wouldn't eat despite all his begging, only staring at him with that horridly blank stare and pushing the food back toward him. tears started to form at the corners of his eyes as he held up the very last piece of bread. "please," he begged. "please just eat it." you shook you head, forcing the tears to stream down his cheeks. that broke through your indifference, your frown deepening as you inched closer to him. "we'll half it," you offered, taking his shaking hand and guiding him to split the bread, taking one half and waiting for him to calm down before you ate in silence. you really did feel older than him, and he didn't like it. only when that night fell did he realize you were simply a very, very good actor. your whimpers were like thunder in his ears as he sprang up from a featherlight sleep, his eyes locking on your quivering form just a hair's breadth away. "y/n?" he whispered, shaking your shoulder. you spooked awake, and in the reflection of moonlight he saw glinting tears traced down your face. "nightmare?" your nod and sniffle tore him up inside, and in seconds he was hugging you to his chest, telling you stories till he was sure you were at least sleeping better than him. "someday," he said, "we'll find a place where we'll never go hungry. where every flavor and ingredient can be found. the all blue. i'll take us there, and we'll never starve again." you were asleep by the time he started plotting to raid zeff's side of the rock in the morning. it had been sanji who guarded you from seeing the stump left of zeff's leg, ignoring you when you asked him to explain what was happening.
growing up on the baratie was an experience, for sure.
your only company were the crooks who worked in the kitchen alongside you and sanji, and you found them amusing company indeed.
especially when they started teaching you how to be a remarkable little con-artist. once in your late teens, it wasn't long before you'd abandoned your work in the kitchen to wait tables.
not only were the tips amazing to pocket away, but your charming smile and whimsical attitude made you a master of sympathy.
there isn't a customer you can't placate, a fight you can't break up; sanji would never admit it, but you'd save him from one too many brawls with just a single simper.
it was easy to hold that over his head, but for some reason, sanji never let it keep him from completely wrecking your social life.
to say sanji is protective of you is the understatement of the century; you'd be the first to attest to that.
it was growing to be annoying and just plain inconvenient, if you're being honest.
was it too much to ask for some time to yourself... with the company of a horny teenage boy... in your quarters... alone?
"sanji!" you hissed, face bright red as your brother dragged you and this young sailor boy--you hadn't caught his name--out of a broom cupboard, his grip on the boy's collar deathly. throwing the boy aside, sanji stormed back up to him. "did you touch my sister? you think you can just take advantage of her like tha'?" you ran your hands over your face and rushed to separate sanji, shaking in anger, from the boy, shaking in his boots. "stop! he wasn't takin' advantage of me, sanji. hell, i started it!" "y-yeah!" the sailor boy piped in, cowering behind you. "she was all over me and—" "shut up," you and sanji said in tandem, shooting the boy matching glares that sent the poor sailor darting for his crew's ship.
as the years dragged on, you and sanji couldn't deny that the idea of remaining on the baratie all your lives would be... well... sad.
you wanted more for yourselves—you specifically wanted to get sanji away from zeff's constant criticism, no matter how well–meaning it was.
but the years really were dragging, and could you ever really bare to leave the man you'd nearly called father on several occasions? could you leave the shit-hole restaurant that raised you in it's wooden arms?
probably not. you'd probably die washing dishes (snore) and burning water (whoops) and charming the pants off grumpy old men (yuck).
that is, it always seemed that way until a grand vessel with a goat for a masthead docked at the baratie.
the day had been it's usual level of boring, until two customers decided to have a little row which heated up with every word shot back at each other.
you, having a good track record, rushed forth to prevent the fight just itching to break out. but today was not your lucky day.
"gentlemen," you grinned. stepping between the two men, you held up your hands and settled each of them with batted eyes and a soft expression. "what's this about, hmm?" sanji loitered at a nearby table, refilling drinks with one eye on you. he was ripely kicked out of the kitchen, snug in his waiter's jacket. one of them huffed, "he's at my table!" "i don't see your name on it!" the other snapped. your patience wanned, your thoughts screaming man-child. "i'm sure we can work something out. just please, don't start anything in the restaurant." the first man seemed to consider you, his eyes dragging up and down your form, but any progress you might have made was destroyed by the next second. "i ain't movin', girl. he can go shit 'imself in the corner." that was how you winded up directly between them, your hands pushing against either chest to keep them separated, your heartrate accelerating as they pressed in on you as if you weren't even there. grunting, you called out, "brother?" in seconds, sanji had a grip on your sleeve in one hand and a fistful of the first man's collar in the other. he jerked you away from them and swiftly shoved the men away from each other. "sister," he said in turn, cracking his neck as the men continued to not learn their lesson. "take these rolls to table four, yeah?" you didn't need to be told twice, swiping the tray of bread from his arm and beelining for a booth housing a motley crew of people. behind you, grunts and winces and crashing could be heard, followed by the thick silence of your brother's victory. you set the tray down on the table, shooting a tight lipped smile up at the guests. a boy wearing a peculiar straw hat locked you in place with his bright eyes and wondered aloud, "he's a great fighter." "yep," you quipped. "a real hero. any drinks for the handsome crew?"
it turned out the boy with the straw hat was crazy: he intended to become king of the pirates.
you admired his tenacity, of course, but really? he had a death wish.
still, the more you spoke to luffy and the more you observed his character, being king of the pirates didn't seem so crazy. he had guts, that was for sure.
as crazy as it sounded, you started to believe he could do it.
so it was really no surprise you said yes when luffy asked you to join his crew.
he had already asked sanji the day before—before luffy's swordsman friend got obliterated by a warlord of the sea.
you didn't know him, but when you rushed onto the going merry after zeff an sanji, and you saw the bloodied man lying there, you could barely move a muscle.
you were never good around the air of death, and it was all around roronoa zoro, lingering like a knock you expected but never came. so you couldn't move, not even when they moved zoro to a bed, out of sight. not when zeff and sanji retreated back to the baratie.
you snapped back to life at the sound of luffy's voice, finding him leaning down to be directly eye level with you. he was still speaking, and it felt sort of like being under water, till finally, you surfaced. "sorry what?" "are you okay?" he asked, brows knit. you pondered your response while looking anywhere but his face. "yeah, sorry. i... i don't like feeling helpless, i guess." you vaguely gestured to where zoro's limp body had laid upon the nearby table. "being out of control makes me wig out." luffy tilted his head. "why're you out of control?" "because," you nearly laughed. "your friend is dying." immediately, you regretted your word choice, hating how the light fizzled from his eyes. "he's not dying," luffy snapped back. "he was injured and now he's healing. why does everyone insist he's dying?" you shuffled on your feet. "right, sorry." when you met his eyes again, there wasn't any frustration like you assumed there would be. instead, he settled you with a curious look. "you don't have to keep apologizing." luffy was an odd type of pirate, you thought with a forced little grin. "then how will people know i'm sorry?" he smiled. "fair point." taking a hold of your sleeve, luffy started to drag you deeper into the going merry, leading you right to where zoro was laid. his grip on you loosened as he passed into the room, but you stayed cemented in the doorway. nami was there, sullen looking. you watched as nami berated luffy and stormed away, shoulder checking you on the way out, leaving luffy smileless. that didn't sit well with you. walking up beside him, you took a kneel just as he did, and turned your eyes on zoro's pallid face. "hello," you murmured. silence was your reply. "i'm y/n. you don't know me... your friends care a lot about you. it'd be... sad, if you died." luffy stiffened at your side. "which you won't! i've heard of you. no way the demon pirate hunter will let—let a scratch get him..." as your rambling died down, luffy slowly shifted to look at you, all serious for a moment. unnerved, you chuckled nervously. "what?" a tiny grin worked its way onto his lips, a glimmer in his eyes. "will you join my crew?" you nearly laughed. "luffy, you don't want me." "yeah. i do. why else would i ask?" "i'm useless." "you're kind," he said, shutting you up as a flush bloomed in your cheeks. "not everyone can say that."
a long story short, you joined luffy's crew of strawhats right along sanji.
your parting from the baratie had been watery, to say the least. whilst sanji shouted curses at zeff and stormed out to luffy's ship, you stood shaky as zeff huffed, his eyes roaming toward you.
you very nearly tripped head over foot in your sprint to wrap him in a hug. he was the only father you'd ever had, really. leaving him was bittersweet.
the going merry was a very nice place to call home, in your opinion.
you were a jack of all trades amidst the crew, choosing to do odd jobs around the ship. most days, you found yourself asking around with a little list in your journal, taking note of everyone’s grocery needs and even keeping track of the ship’s supply inventory.
not only that, but you found your crewmates tended to lack the sense to take care of themselves in a timely manner. 
that is, none of them could be faster than your attentive eye, and no one was safe from your protective inclinations.
nami was attentive, but she tended to disassociate, and when she did it was very hard to get her back. she would go on for hours, working herself to the brink of exhaustion, not accepting even a sip of water. (she couldn't stop you, however, from forcing a cup of ice water down her throat. even she was intimidated by your determination to hydrate her).
then there was zoro, who absolutely refused to allow anyone to help him dress his wounds; and since he wasn't the best at it, you often stared at his haphazard bandages with fear of infection. he brushed you off enough times to invoke your wrath upon him. (zoro quit refusing after the first three times you ambushed him, wrapping your arm around his neck and blocking his airway).
you always listened to usopp's stories, but oftentimes you grew tired of the repetitive and clearly fake tall tales. you wanted to know his real stories, and you told him so. he'd laughed awkwardly and replied that he wasn't interesting enough for that. (he was fairly surprised at your insistence, and was warmed at your fascination with the silly story of how he met kaya).
luffy, your captain, was a walking migraine most days. he was smart, but just as brave, and jumped to action faster than you could process. it left you stressed beyond what you could handle, and this alone was enough to make luffy more cautious. (he never wanted to make you unhappy, so you'd inadvertently given him some of your common sense).
finally, sanji, who you'd been dealing with all your life. you knew all his tells, whether it was baking macarons when he was upset or going eerily silent for far too long. you always knew what he needed, and when he needed it. (more often than not all he needed was a compliment, and not just from some doe–eyed woman at a bar; a word of sentiment from his baby sister could drag him out of any stupor).
overtime, the crew took to calling you their boatswain. after all, you fit the job description, and you took the title with pride.
as time flew by with the strawhats, you began to listen to the dreams and aspirations of the others, and began to wonder what exactly you wanted out of life. the all blue was sanji’s dream… so what was yours?
the going merry was docked at a friendly port for the next few days, meaning the crew was free to explore and roam the city as they pleased. you, however, remained behind that very first night.
as far as you knew, the others had decided upon a bar for the night’s celebration. The quiet dwelling over the ship was calming, and from your sweat crisscrossed on the afterdeck you had a wide view of the stars. 
your notebook rested on your belly, pen tight between your fingers, thoughts moving a million miles an hour. there hadn’t been time to get shopping done that day, so you would rouse the ship early the next morning and assign them to fetch groceries in pairs of two—just to be safe. 
and though the heavy thinking could wait till the morning, you were stuck in a spiral of inventory and lists. it was… exhausting, and offered little to no fulfillment. still, it was what you did to help. 
A familiar patter of boots broke your reverie, and you peeked up to find sanji coming to loom over you, his hands shoved in his pockets. his suit jacket was draped over one shoulder and his hair was a mess—he wasn’t drunk though, which was a very good sign.
silently, he disposed of his jacket and laid down beside you, resting his hands behind his head. for a split second, you got a glimpse of the damn rock imbeedded in your memory for all time, and how sanji used to make up stories about the stars.
since then, you’d come to know their true stories. you knew every constellation by name, having memorized them upon the baratie and spoken to them every lonely night. the stars had been your friends in your youth, and though your conversations with them were few and far between now, they always shined for you. so as far as you knew, you were never alone.
sanji raised an arm and pointed in a random direction. “bet you can’t name that one.”
a grin worked its way up your face. “how much?”
he turned his head, eyes boring into you. “if you can’t, you tell me what’s on your mind.”
“that’s hardly fair.”
“take it or leave it.”
you huffed, but complied, glaring up at the sky. “cassiopeia. cursed to remain in the stars for claiming her daughter was more beautiful than the nerieds.” you kissed your teeth. “hardly a punishment. i’d love to be in the stars.”
there was a weight behind your words; a truth so deep you had to take a long breath to recover. wetting your lips, you asked your brother, “do you think, someday, i could study them?”
“why someday?”
“well, you need supplies. tools. there’s only so much our eyes can tell from down here.”
“tools,” he murmured. “so, you want to study the stars?”
the words flooded from your lips. “i want to know everything about them. i want to know why they shine, how far they are, what’s beyond them… can we get there?” you sighed into a smile. “there are some cities that have observatories dedicated to astronomy, but you’ve got to be some kind of noble scholar to get in.”
sanji listened, and he listened well. He laid by your side and listened to you tell him about the stars till nami and zoro came lugging a drunk usopp between them, luffy taking the lead. he remained in thought for most of the night, and sought out nami to ask about expenditures, and then set out to find luffy. 
it was safe to say you weren’t quite as upset at sanji and luffy for disappearing all evening when they returned at sunset, some beri short, with a gift in hand.
you stood slack jawed as they revealed a beautiful telescope, the metal polished and bright and shining. how they had managed to sneak it past you and set it up on the afterdeck was beyond you, but you hardly cared to ask.
you threw your arms around your brother, whispering your thank yous, and quickly turned to tackle your captain in a hug just as tight. the night to follow was marked by your awed sighs and the excited way you told the crew about ursa major and ursa minor, then about castor and pollux, and so on till you could barely keep your eyes open.
and sanji would never say it out loud, but he admired you. you turned out pretty damn good despite having him as your big brother. someday, you’d reach the stars. he knew that for certain. he could only hope you’d come visit once or twice.
“g’night,” he muttered to the crew as he stood, making his way over to where you’d drifted off against a barrel. he scooped you up in his arms and was veyr careful to not wake you as he made his way to your and nami’s quarters. 
sanji rested you down and moved to take off your boots and pull the blanket over you, and he found himself frozen all of a sudden. lips pursed, he patted your hair, and turned to go. at the door, he paused and looked back. you slept so soundly for once, something he was so very glad for. he wasn’t blind to how you’d been overworking yourself.
perhaps he would talk to you about that in the morning, but for now, he simply smiled. “good night, sister. love you.”
and whispered back to him, just in time for him to hear: “g’night, sanj. i love you.”
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butterfluffy · 10 months
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strawhats + d. mihawk with a healer!s/o
⠀⠀ੈ♡˳· what would it be like being a healer, and an s/o to these people?
⠀⠀➧ unlabeled | strawhats, d. mihawk (separate)  x gn!reader | multi-character headcanons
⠀⠀➧ warnings — idk, none, ig? mistakes may be present tho.. so do ignore them, thanks.
⠀⠀➧ requests are closed, sorryyyyy..!
⠀⠀꒰ 🍨 ꒱ notes: finally writing to clear out my inbox aAaaaAahhHhhHHHHh
req by @n0body-1mportant
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MONKEY D. LUFFY
This trouble maker captain right here is always injured lol
So that said, you always go on healing your big, trouble maker baby
Wild card : Though he can take punches, kicks, and even stabs without screaming in pain—Luffy starts whining like a poor puppy everytime he comes to ask you to patch him up.
“Y/n...! Look, look, I'm heavily injured! I'm reaallyy hurt! Won't you heal me!? And, and! Won't you give me a kiss, too, for doing a great job in beating that bastard's ass!?”
RORONOA ZORO
Same as his captain, the first mate is always injured—due to fights, his harsh training, and other causes
..Despite always being injured, Zoro hates getting himself patched up. But if you're the one doing the healing so he could get better, it's all good for him!
Wild card : Zoro doesn't care if he's greatly bleeding out during a fight—but outside a fight, if he got the smallest cut, Zoro immediately dashes to you to get himself healed up..!
“Hey, so, I was peeling myself apples a while ago using that ero-cook's damned knife—now I got this cut. Heal it now, and eat these with me, yeah?”
NAMI
Nami very much hates getting herself injured, especially getting scars
So Nami is quick to rush to you to get her injury fixed
Wild card : this happens quite rarely, since as said above, she hates getting scars—but, nami sometimes get herself injured on 'places' to see you flushed when she asks you to heal it~
“Babyyy..! Look, look! Look at my perfectly beautiful legs here! They've got a scar! Their beauty has been tarnished, so, please.. Take care of them, yeah~?”
USOPP
Usopp avoids getting himself injured at all cost.
And when he does get injured, he screeches as he dash towards you with tears on his eyes, asking you to heal his injury ASAP.
Wild card : I have this headcanon for Usopp where he's a real clutz, so he always has an injury here and there, and wounds that he doesn't know where it came from.
“Y-Y/n..! W..When I woke up, I saw this new wound on my arm..! I..I don't know where it came from—it's probably from the spirits that I've angered, waaahh!!”
(it was caused by Luffy. He was dreaming that Usopp was a piece of meat, and bit him during their sleep. 💀)
VINSMOKE SANJI
As the left hand man of the ship's captain, Sanji is always out on a fight to support his captain, so injuries are unavoidable.
He's developed durability to the beating up he receives and shows it off his coolness to you, BUT AFTER THE FIGHT, he whines.
Wild card : This perv right here always has a nosebleed everytime you go patch up his beaten up ass, causing you more trouble.
“My loveee..! I'm injured, I'm badly hurt..! Everything's so painful, so please, heal me with your magic kiss—*you kiss him* *he nosebleeds*”
NICO ROBIN
Robin isn't a big fan of getting injuries during combat, or whenever.
Though despite being injured, she handles it like a Queen! (You don't.)
Wild card : As said above she handles her injuries like the Queen she is, BUT, you don't—you're more panicked when she's injured as she stays calm while telling you some morbid jokes.
“Darling.. Please calm down. I'm not going to die, you know? All I got is this small scratch the size of a severed finger, so, don't worry about me too much, okay?”
FRANKY
SUPEEEERRRRR Franky right here who's a barely gets himself injured.
↑ Why? Because, he's a cyborg, a cool one who will barely get a scratch..!
Wild card : ...When Franky does get injured for some reason being during a fight or where else, he starts crying like a small child to you as he asks you to heal him...!
“Waaahh! This damned injury hurts so bad..! It's SUPEEEERRRR painful, I'm gonna cry! Y/n, Y/n, quick, quickly, heal me and ease my pain..!!”
DRACULE MIHAWK
The greatest swordsman? Injured?? Pfft, not a chance.
Though when he's going against strong fellas, he gets some scratches here and there, which he deals with by himself—not wanting to bother you.
Wild card : Mihawk doesn't show it, but, he loves, and finds it cute when you insist on helping him with his injury that he already had managed, or can obviously handle fixing by himself.
“My dear... I already fixed my injury, so don't worry about it. But.. If you really insist on using your ability to speed up the healing process.. Alright. I'll let you.”
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© butterfluffy 2023
⠀⠀ʚїɞ · likes, comments, reblogs, and/or feedbacks are highly appreciated!
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meltingmidas · 13 days
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Coachella Rut
Paring: Idol!Hongjoong x Non Idol!Reader
CW: DomJoong/SubReader, Joongie is aggressive :))), pinv, unprotected sex (don’t do this plz this is not sexy!), creampie, mentions of marks and bruises, degradation, pls lmk if i missed anything!
WC: 920
Midas's Notes: So I literally started this right after watching the Coachella stream.. holy shit. Joong really did something to me and idk if I’ll ever be the same. Is there possibly a Mingi one in the works? Maybe. Uhhh this is NOT edited cause I’m too tired and this is just raw horniness so please enjoy (and excuse) this messy fic! PS also didn’t have a fuckin clue what to name it so enjoy the random title <3
🔞 Below 🔞
“Fuck Joong, slow doowwwn- ugh please!” You whimpered as he roughly pounded into your abused pussy, your legs over his shoulders, his arms beside your head. He’s been at it for nearly 2 hours now, rejecting your every single orgasm, giving you no time to rest. Your neck is littered in bruises, cheeks red from his previous slaps, eyeliner dragged down to your jaw. He’s always like this after a concert; but for some reason Coachella has him in a rut.
He’s aggressive, raw, and borderline psychotic. A wild smile plastered on his face, the shitty red dye running down his face over his eyes and around his cheeks, down to his chin and neck. He locks eyes with you as he brings his hand up to roughly hold your jaw, your cheeks uncomfortably squishing together. “You are fucking mine, got it? Your heart, your soul, your thoughts, your pretty pussy, everything. You belong to me. Yeah?”He whispers out, inches away from your face, he’s movements never faulting. You nod, and mewl out a small “Yes sir” before he gives the corner of your lips a small kiss and returning to the side of your head, giving light nips to your neck. Hongjoong looks straight out of a horror movie; and it’s fucking sexy.
You’re dragged out of your thoughts by a particular hard thrust, kissing your velvety sweet spot inside you, making you sing his name like it was a prayer. “You look so fucking good underneath me. All fucked up on my cock, yeah? You can’t get enough of me, can you?” He grunts out, his voice course from the previous show he put on. You nod eagerly, your nails scratching at his shoulders, bound to leave your mark all over him. “Yeaah that’s right slut. Tell me how good I am.” You moan loudly at his request, surely others would hear (not that you cared), starting to attempt to form a sentence. “Cock feels to-fuck feels too good Joong. Need you to fuck me harder. Please!”.
He chuckles deeply, heavy into your ear, soft grunts and pants leaving his lips. “You feel so fucking good, you were made for me, whore.” You scream out his name as he starts fucking you faster; harder than he’s ever gone before. You whine and whimper, begging for your release, “Please Joong- pleasepleaseplease fill me up sir, I need it so bad. Need your cum inside me so bad.” Hongjoong moans loudly in your ear, his breath fanning against the shell. He lifts up to look at you, the fully sits up, your lower half now slightly lifted up off the bed thanks to your legs still over his shoulders. He gives you a wild smirk, eyes dark and full of love and lust. His hands find the plush spot of your hips, nails digging his shape into it. You whine, tears spilling out as you keep your babbling pleas for his seed. “Fuck- such a good girl, asking so politely for my cum.” One hand moves from your hips and finds your clit, your eyes shoot open and a drawn out moan leaves your lips, a new spark shoots up your spine and your release edging closer and closer.
He grunts, his thrust growing sloppier and harder, you can feel him twitch inside you as he gets closer. “Gonna make you mine sweetheart. All mine- fuck.” He peers down at you, a smile and his signature laugh, “Cum for me, doll.” That was all you needed as you find yourself twitching, hips bucking up into his, you feel your walls convulsing around his, feeling your sweet slick run down to your ass. He moans, voice scratching as a string of “shit” leaves him, as you feel hot ropes of cum fill you up. You whine, feeling so full of him and his milky cum. “So so good. Fuck you’re mine. Mine all mine..” he whispers out, more to himself, as he pushes his final spurts of cum inside you.
You look at him through your wet lashes, admiring the scene of his sweat drenching him, basking in his post sex glow. He catches your eyes, a soft smile leaving his lips as he leans down to meet yours. Hongjoong gives you a soft, gentle kiss, completely different to the ones you received earlier. “I’m sorry sweetheart, I didn’t do too much did I?” He asks, slowly pulling out of you, a mix of both your cum oozing outside of your puffy pussy. You shake your head, “No, not at all Joongie. But holy shit, I don’t think I can get up after all… that.” You laugh, and you hear him quietly joins you. “Here.” You look over to find him handing you a glass of water (that he already prepped beforehand, what a gentleman), and a towel in his hand beside you. You gladly take it, shaking as you hastily take a sip. You feel him gently lift one of your legs, softly patting and wiping you off. “I’ll start you a bath, and we can take one together. Or would you rather eat first? Which sounds good?” He quietly asks you, throwing the towel to a dirty clothes hamper and grabs your hand to give it a kiss. You giggle, “Bath, then food, please.” He nods, slowly rubbing your knuckles in his hands. “Sounds good sweetheart.” He gets up to start your bath, you sit up, sipping your water and wondering if you should get chicken or a burger.
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ttodorokiii · 1 year
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animal (m)
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synopsis. Bakugou can be an animal when it comes to fucking you sensless.
warnings. explicit sex, kissing, unprotected sex [BE SMART IRL AND WRAP IT!] biting, obsessed bakugou, he is so lovesick :((, but he’s very horny, rough sex, he fucks you between a door n him, strong bakugou, borderline yandere bakugou 😵‍💫🫡
note. hihi I’m back! Plz send asks because I missed y’all so much n also warning, this is messy n cringe. PLZ SEND THIRST ASKS ANYTIME OR JUST ASKS TALK TO MEEEEE! share feedback!
*not edited*
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Katsuki has no self control when it comes to you.
You are irresistible to him, he is so helpless when it comes to you. What is it about that gets him so hot and bothered, just one look at you? He’s hard.
You get him so horny without doing anything at all, you’re washing dishes? He’s mesmerised by you, with the way your hands work, the way you’re so focused on doing them.
It gets him. He feels so dumb, he should feel disgusting at himself for being so horny about the most normal things you do.
It’s disgusting, but he can’t control it. You’d be so embarrassed if you could hear his thoughts, you’d leave him.
He’s so addicted to fucking you, feeling you in the deepest and most intimate way he can, your lips, your nose, your damn e/c eyes, that seductive gaze you give him.
You’re the most sexiest woman he’s ever laid his eyes on,
If only people knew just how much of a whore their beloved number two hero, dynamite is for his woman. They’d find him pathetic. He doesn’t give a single fuck though.
You are his. He could fuck you forever and he wouldn’t get tired. God, he loves you so much.
Katsuki isn’t good with words or let alone expressing his feelings out loud, he is obsessed with you, he’s so crazy for you but he is unable to express it.
Unless it’s through intimacy.
So that’s why he’s pounding into you like a dog in heat, breathing so loudly into your ear as you yelp, breathless, his large palm holding the back of your neck so you’re looking straight into his wild ruby eyes, clouded with love.
“Fuck! love you s’much princess!” Bakugou confesses into the shell of your ear, his voice rough and husky, you can’t respond because the high of the pleasure is too much for you to handle. He knows your body so well.
He knows your spots. Your man knows how to fuck you so good, you whimper, your nails scratching on his skin, he’s so strong, holding your legs effortlessly when you lose yourself into him.
He feels so good inside you. You’re sure you see stars right now.
He pounds into that spot once again and you moan out loud, digging your nails once again into his flesh. Bakugou moans too, it spurns him on more, the man is a stallion, holding you in place while rutting into you feverishly.
“S-So good, suki!” You praise your husband. Bakugou grands your nipple and gives it a gentle pinch, driving you insane.
“My baby, fuck… love you so fucking much.” He presses his lips impatiently to yours, his kiss is passionate, swallowing your breath.
“‘m gonna fuck you so good because you deserve it baby, I love you so much.”
He is so passionate, so gentle yet rough. You could never get used to his touch truly, it still makes your skin ignite, just one touch and your body’s on fire.
“My princess.” He finally stops kissing you. “Hope you have the energy because we’re not going to sleep tonight.”
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thesuperiorrobin · 8 months
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“I Can’t believe you’re letting me do this,” you say, your lover is trapped between your legs, and he helps you sit yourself down on top of the sink in his bedroom bathroom. The bottom of half his face is covered in shaving cream as you on the other hand hold a shaving razón in hand.
“You trust me too much”
“I always will” he murmurs, eyes gazing at yours with adoration. You mimic his smile. “Now please— my face will not shave itself beloved” you pout softly, waving the razor in your hand
“But I kinda like it. Do I have to?”
“Do you want your face to bear scratches from my stubble? Or do you prefer a clean face that won’t hurt you when you kiss me?” You murmur under your breath, Damian heard you. He chuckles as he leans down to your eyes level making it easier for you to run his razor across the shaving cream on his face. You get to work, you’ve done it a couple of times but you always find yourself nervous. There wasn’t a single knick on his cheek just yet—but it’s not like you were ever planning on scratching a handsome face like his to begin with.
A few minutes later and you we’re done, Almost all the shaving cream was off his face but some stayed in places you couldn’t reach. You grabbed a towel and gently dabbed it away—well, most of it. Damian leans further down, nuzzling against your neck. Some of the cream getting on the side of your face.
You push him away, scrunching your nose up in disgust “Ew!” A yelp leaves your lips “I just showered!” He wipes it off for you with a laugh. A huff leaves your lips
“Don’t frown beloved. I was only playing” you frown, rolling your eyes playfully.
“If you want to make it up to me” you grin playfully, a glint in your eyes that makes him go wild “Grow out your beard”
He shakes his head, hand reaching up to his face and scooping some shaving cream with his finger before he brings it down to your nose. The soft soap stays at the tip before you wipe it off, laughing as you do so.
“We’ll see”
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wyvernest · 8 months
Note
Oh my god I saw your requests were open and I love eveything you write<33
I See many fics where Miguel is the one who is jealous, but what if the tables turned and the reader is the one who is jealous, maybe she’s a civilian and she feels like he’d be better of with a spider person who understands his work better? I’d love to see him feel sad that his love feels that way can you tell I like pain lol
Thank you so so much<33 wishing you all the best for your exam! I’m sure you’ll do amazing!
shameless
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pairing: bf!miguel x f!civilian!reader
warnings: jealousy, fluff, suggestiveness, public display of affection
summary: you're worried that miguel might be better off with a spider-person, but he is eager to reassure you (and everyone else) that you're more than enough
a/n:thank you and i hope you like it! im thinking of making a part 2 with balcony sex above nueva york let me know if yall would want it<3
divider by @cafekitsune
You are aware of the so called disadvantages of him being your boyfriend.
He is handsome, no doubt. But that means a lot more than being able to watch him work around the HQ, swinging your legs and wondering how you landed him.
It means having unfamiliar eyes linger over him more than you'd be able to tolerate. Flirty looks and remarks thrown at him like he's magnetic, regardless of everyone knowing he's with you.
Even walking through the glassy hallways and cloud scratching towers of Spider Society is a stab in the heart. 
Noticing all the single spider-women look him up and down, eyelids heavy with the seconds that passed as they unabashedly stared at his physique; his broad back, the bulky arms and toned thighs, at the way the muscles underneath his suit rippled with every heavy step he took, not letting his weight drop lazily on each foot but rather walking with the energetic strength of a man with insane stamina.
You couldn't stop a venomous surge of anxiety mixed with the most sour amount of jealousy from dripping into your nerves as you met their gazes, seeing how beautiful and charismatic they all were.
How agile and gracious they were, swinging by just to blow Miguel a fleeting kiss.
And you certainly couldn't stop wondering if he'd be better off with one of them. One of his kind. One that would be able to swing alongside him, to practise with him, to accompany him.
One that would understand him better than perhaps you ever could.
You know he loves you, or else you wouldn't be together. But the idea that he maybe even once looked at all the women lining up for him and thought they'd be interesting to try is gutting you out.
And he starts noticing it.
Of course.
He isn't oblivious to how you straightened your back or curled your arms around his when another spider woman passed you with flirty looks or remarks. How you'd shut down and become awfully quiet when you two would get home following one of these encounters.
He couldn't bear to see you unhappy. Some of the times he even felt the sharp sting of guilt poking into his heart, knowing that he was the reason others were upsetting you.
More so, your bond.
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You are heading towards his lab at HQ, walking beside him, heart pounding intermittently with anxiety and bubbling anger. Eyes darting around you swiftly, like those of a feral feline making sure no other animal is preparing to jump her and snatch her food from her.
Suddenly, two flowy silhouettes shoot mile long webs far up into a tunnel bridge, only to drop down and swing right past you and Miguel. 
Purring out a simultaneous "¡Hola, Miguel! Looking good today!", reaching their hands down to him while boasting perfect balance with their webs tied to their ankles, they disappear into the distanced skyscrapers of Nueva York, with echoing giddy laughters.
Miguel doesn't move his head in their direction, already way too familiar with such interactions, and already too interested in hearing only one particular ¡Hola, Miguel! - yours.
Only your focus isn't on him. Your mind is running wild with how talented they seemed to be, how flexible and enticing. Already imagining him, playfully swinging with them, his force and precision perfectly matching their grace and melodic rhythm.
A dance you could never participate in.
What you also fail to see is the frown on his face as he turns to you, intrigued and finally ready to catch you off guard.
"¿Qué pasó, amor?" (What happened, love?) He leaned into you, dragging you by your arm to stop you behind a glass pillar. 
You're hauled out of your reverie, eyes widening in panic as you think of something less pathetic and embarrassing to say than the truth.
"Hm? Nothing, I just think they're nice to look at." You motion with your head the direction the two women swung in, clarifying. "Everytime you bring me here, it's all so … breathtaking." You internally wince at the excuse, pulling the best poker face you could muster.
He takes a deep breath, annoyed but patient.
"You know you can tell me anything." He assures you, voice low and whispered so as not to embarrass you in front of the spiders passing by. He is aware that the place isn't the most fitting for the conversation, but any other time he'd tried to coax it out of you, you dismissed it with a "It's nothing. I'm just feeling off today."
Truth be told, he had his suspicions. He is by no means unacquainted with the ways of women, and without a single condescending bone in his body when it came to you, he wants you to spit it out so you could talk about it. So he could untangle the knots in your heart, the doubts about him and your relationship.
"I know." You reply shortly, something in you dying to snap out and tell him everything, but instead, you shut it down at the last moment and decided to leave it at that.
"Then why don't you?" He looms over you, unintentionally, but you start to feel utterly cornered. Your heart is drumming out of your chest, and you are more than certain he can at least hear it. His face reveals his disappointment, however hopeful and attentive he wants to seem.
And just like that, your fronts break down.
"I'm - Don't get me wrong," you trail off, not looking him in the eye. You feel his warm breath fan over your forehead, getting dizzy from the sudden proximity. "I love this place. All the work you put into it.." Your eyes meet his for a fleeting second. "But sometimes it reminds me of how different I am.", You pause, waiting for a response. When he doesn't interrupt, you continue, "How I don't fit in,... here, beside you."
"What is that supposed to mean?" He looks almost pissed, as if you had told him he doesn't fit in. As if he was the one that didn't fit you.
"I mean I'm not … them. I'm not a spider."
"I'm aware of that." he retorts, ironically. "When did that stop me from loving you?". His tone is scolding. He is trying to maintain an unaffected demeanor so you would keep talking, but inside, his heart cracks at your words.
Your face heats up, surprised.
"It's not that." You have to actively stop yourself from leaning into his body and hiding into the warmth of his embrace, so that maybe all the jealousy and worry will wash away. But he deserves an explanation, now that you've admitted your feelings. "They know a side of you that I can only imagine. How it feels to be…like you."
His face softens, full of love and pity.
"I'm the odd one out here." You spit out, frustrated with his silence. "I can't give you everything they can!"
"I don't want what they have." He answers quickly, sincerely. You find it hard to believe, even though he's never lied to you.
To you, he's perfect. He deserves everything. Everything he could get.
And you're not enough.
"Escúchame." (Listen to me) He leans closer into you, his breath hot on your face. "Estoy enamorado de ti." (I'm in love with you.) "I only need you to be happy." 
You finally meet his gaze, full of consideration and fondness. You pray to whatever god hears you that he means it, because you're too far gone in your love for him to go back now.
"What will it take for you to just relax and stop being jealous, hm?" He whispers, smugly and amused. It's clear that he's flattered with your sentiments and possessiveness, but wants to nonetheless fix your issues.
You feel yourself getting immersed into the scent of him, his body heat radiating onto yours. You don't quite know the answer yourself. He grabs your waist right above your hips, sending shivers up your spine. Pulling you closer to him, he moves his head to your ear.
"What if I kissed you right here, right now? Let everyone know that I love you, and only you."
Miguel was very clearly overjoyed with the excuse to show you some public affection, especially if it meant having you so flustered and pliant beneath him.
"Would that make you feel better? Knowing they'll be the jealous ones now?"
You nod, more or less consciously, lifting yourself up on your tiptoes almost reflexively.
His warm and eager hands on your waist strengthen their grip, lifting you further up against his body as your feet lose contact with the ground, your chest meeting his. His lips are soft and tender against yours, dancing in a slow, passionate kiss. With your eyes still closed, you hear a few gasps near you in the hall; some happily amused, some offended.
But you don't care. All you care about right now is how he's tilting your head to the side with one of his palms at the back of your neck, slipping his tongue into your mouth and deepening the kiss. 
You continue to make out without a care in the world, just for the whole Spider Society to receive a much needed reminder that Miguel O'Hara is taken. 
His hands knead the supple flesh of your lower back, making your hum softly into his mouth, your own arms curling around his neck in a vicious hold.
When you least expect it, you feel one hand descend swiftly, leaving you no time to react as he grabs at your ass hard, so hard you jolt up against him, eyes snapping open in shock.
Without moving his hand, he presses his nose to your pulse point, exhales sultry on the sensitive skin.
"I have another idea."
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earlgreyflowers · 3 months
Note
Hey ! I love how you write, Do you think you could do 3,16 and 48 of charles ? Thank you in advance and continue like that, that’s amazing!
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A/N - I’m praying this isn’t too repetitive compared to my last fic but i’m proud of it so enjoy <3
sorry for the delay, I've been super busy and then got sick over the weekend but I'm back
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You had no problem being a passenger princess whenever Charles rented a car on a Grand Prix weekend. You enjoyed being able to control the music, resting comfortably in your seat as you admire your boyfriend. The way his hands wrap around the gear stick, or the way his thumbs move back and forth over the wheel when in traffic. Your sleepy mind drifts to the thought of Charles' thumb tracing patterns on your thigh instead of the wheel, his rough fingertips leaving goosebumps over your soft skin.
Your tongue slips out to wet your lips, your mouth suddenly feeling dry as you continue to roam your eyes over Charles. His jaw is clenched slightly, attempting to concentrate on the road whilst also processing his frustration over the results of qualifying this weekend. Your hand reaches out to rest at the base of his neck, gently scratching at the hair and smiling as the tension in his jaw eases. You lean over the centre console, pressing a kiss to his jaw, leaving a soft red stain in your wake.
"Tout va bien mon amour?" Charles murmurs, eyes darting over to you before quickly returning to the road. "All good honey, just thinking." You hum, your hand travelling over your boyfriend's thigh. You feel the muscle clench under your touch, his legs closing slightly. The sight makes your own legs squeeze together, dampness beginning to coat your underwear as your thoughts run wild.
"What are you thinking about cherie?" Asks your boyfriend, his hand coming to rest atop yours. The consistent speed of the motorway meant he could neglect the gears for a little bit of time. "Your hands, how they feel on my skin, how much I like the way you touch me." You mutter, words barely audible over the faint music and passing cars surrounding you both. The breathy tone to your voice was beginning to affect Charles, heat prickling the surface of his skin. Your hand was migrating up his thigh, closer to where he was starting to throb with need for you.
"What are you doing mon amour? I am driving." Charles mutters, his eyes darting to where your hand now rests in his lap. You squeeze his bulge gently, his mouth dropping open at the feeling. "Want to make you feel good Charlie, please can I?" You whisper, your Ferrari red nails scratching his neck in an attempt to get him to agree to your request.
"I am never going to say no to that, but if I have to pull over you won't be able to walk for a week, do you understand?" The dominance in his tone sends shivers down your spine and shockwaves to your core, nodding happily in agreement with his demand. "Of course I understand mon homme." You purr, the French escaping your lips making Charles harder than before. He loved the effort that you had put in to learn his language, his heart filling with joy at the foreign words on your tongue. It made his stomach fill with butterflies and shamelessly he felt his cock throb in his jeans.
You reach over, encasing the metal of his zip in your fingers, pulling to release him from the sudden tightness in his lap. He sighs in relief as your hand delves into his underwear, his cock hardening further at your touch. The weight of his cock in your hand causes you to release a breathy moan.
Leaning closer to your boyfriend, you kiss his neck gently. His stubble scratches your lips, but the quiet groans leaving his mouth as you slowly pump his cock make it worthwhile. You detach yourself from his neck, adjusting in your seat so you can lean over to reach his lap. His hand rests atop your head softly as you pull him free from bis underwear.
Your mouth waters at the sight of his glistening head, pre-cum leaking from the reddened tip. You purse your lips, press a wet kiss to the head of his dick. You feel it twitch at the sensation before you engulf his head in your mouth. Charles groans at the warmth, relishing the way you swirl your tongue, dipping it lightly into his slit to taste him.
“So good to me cherie, always want to make me feel good.” Charles mutters, eyes flicking down to his lap before returning to the road. You hum around him in agreement and he chuckles, “Don’t talk with your mouth full baby. Come on, you have until we get home to make me finish in your pretty little mouth.” You moan at his words, the vibrations sending tingles up your boyfriend’s spine.
Your mouth travels further down his shaft, leaving rings of red lipstick as you go. The salty taste on your tongue makes you dizzy, desperate for more. You double your efforts, head bobbing and tongue swirling faster than before. Charles’ cock is saturated with your spit, allowing your hand to move smoothly over what couldn’t fit in your mouth.
Charles had managed to keep the car steady, but the feeling of your soft hand wrapped around the base of his cock while the warmth of your mouth surrounded his head was making his job harder. You don’t hear the indicator as Charles pulls the car over, and you don’t question anything when Charles’ other hand threads itself into your hair.
You moan around his cock, pre-cum spilling onto your tongue as Charles moans your name. “So fucking perfect mon amour, don’t stop, gonna fill your mouth, gonna cum for you.” He mumbles, head thrown back against his headrest, neck straining.
His hips buck into your mouth, fingers tapping your head in warning. You take him as deep as you can, choking on his thick cock as it hits the back of your throat. The constriction of your throat sends him over the edge, his cum filling your mouth. You whimper at the taste, swallowing all he gives you. You keep sucking, your tongue swirling around his length as it twitches with sensitivity.
Charles groans, pulling you off his length as he pants. His chest heaves, head still thrown back as he tries to catch his breath. "Fuck baby, that was so good." He mutters, voice breathy and strained. You smile, kissing his cheek. Charles turns his head, capturing your lips with his own. "So good, but I had to pull over so it looks like you won't be able to walk if I'm done with you. Put your seatbelt on, no promises I'll follow the speed limits to get us home." He tells you.
You smile shyly, a blush coating your cheeks as your thighs clench. Your whole body tingles with excitement as Charles pulls back out onto the main road, you were hoping for this after all.
Taglist: @myownwritings
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milkzoro · 5 months
Text
hes got the munchies and he’s super horny! mdni
monkey d luffy // cunnlingus & backshots
✩°𓏲⋆🌿. ⋆⸜ 🍵✮˚
after scouring up all the snacks in the kitchen and helping yourselves, he feels it, the growing pain of his cock being restricted in his little pants. he slowly stoped eating his chunk of food to look at you with even more hunger in his gaze.
he doesn’t stop his eyes from darting from your hips to your face, he craves you so bad that he can’t help but shamelessly rub his cock through his shorts—his eyes hung low and shaky breaths escaped his lips as he unapologetically did so.
“luffy? i can see you you know.” you peered at him and giggled while continuing to snack on your pastry. everything seemed so funny in the moment.
as shaky breathes left his parted lips, he slowly dropped his hand back down to rest at his sides.
he reached for you. “yea. can’t help it peach, you look so tasty.”
you couldn’t stop giggling. “you could’ve just said soooo, you look tasty too.”
you abandoned your tasty treat and walked over to your other tasty treat, but this one seemed more appealing, his soft rosy cheeks and furrowed eyebrows, you had to help him out. after leaving your spot in the kitchen, your hands held onto his cheeks to give him lots of wet kisses everywhere. while in the kiss, you positioned your thighs in a way that slightly teased the bulge in his pants. you can feel him go wild, rutting his hips into your clothed leg.
he wraps around you tightly, pulling you deeper against him as he humps you like a puppy. the relief is enough to make him cum be he needs a taste of you, he was so starved after all.
he detached himself and lifted you up to sit on the edge of the kitchen table, pulling down your jeans and panties in the process.
he stared in awe for a moment before fully diving in, licking fat stripes on your cunt. your lips fell open with pleasure—trembling deeply between your thighs—you had to grip the edge of the counter to hold yourself up. “hold still y/n i don’t wanna have ta chase you.” he’s on his knees and between your legs admiring the slick glistening on your pretty pussy.
his tongue worked at your clit and he nipped along the inside of your thighs, leaving trails of spit everywhere.
he hummed against you, locking his rubbery arms around your legs as he suffocated himself, “does it feel good, peach?? cause oh my fucking i could just eat ya for hours.” he was getting restless beneath you, accidentally shaking the cabinet as he thrusts against them to try and find some friction down there.
“hahhhh ah yes! yes lu…..” your nails grazed his locks, scratching and pulling softly at his thick strands. “your tongue feels ah! s-so good baby boy~” just as your words left your lips, you felt two of his fingers slip inside. he slurped and pumped his digits steadily, stroking the inside of your pillowy walls. convolutions of pleasure made your body twitch against his soft tongue.
your were nearing your orgasm. his soft lips molded perfectly against your clit and folds as he kissed them, keeping a steady pace to get you to come on his tongue.
“you gonna cum yet baby? tell me, am i eatin ya good enough?”
you griped his hair harder to ride his face, his powerful tongue flicked against your clit once he felt you clench tightly around his fingers, he curled them up and swirled around you simultaneously to get you to come undone.
waves of ecstasy flood your system, moaning and grinding against him as you let go.
“baby! oh my god lu! im coming, ahhhah!”
he wiped the slick from his face with the back of his hand before hungrily hoisting you down from the counter and carrying you to his bed.
he held you over his shoulders, ass up and face toward the floor, you couldn’t see him but you knew he had his big typical grin plastered on his face as he carried you like a doll. “cmon we’re not done yet! s’mine turn y/n!”
he tossed you on the bed with care, hovering over your limp body as he undid the buttons of his shorts. the gray fabric underneath them were stained with his precum. once fully undressed, he squeezed the base of his heavy cock as he held your gaze. “turn over y/n, wanna hit you deep, so deep that you’re drooling and screaming my name.”
you followed his orders, flipping over and positioning yourself in a way where your ass was sticking up in the air for him—you could feel the cold sea air hit the slick of your dripping cunt. one of luffy’s strong hands cupped the small of your waist making your arch more extreme. his other hand held your ass, using his thumb to stoke up and down your wet pussy. he squeezed the skin hard and pushed in his thumb, you cried from overstimulation in the pillows below you. “lu- luffy~”
“holy shit, peach! you’re so wet! let me get one more taste!” you heard him muffle a giggle and him shift behind you. you weren’t expecting it, but he quickly removed him thumb and gripped both sides of your plush ass with strong fingers—he dipped his head down to meet with your needy cunt. taking only one fat lick from your clit to your entrance, poking his tongue in swiftly before slurping you one last time. you gripped the sheets as he did so, your hole tightening as you cried for him.
“luffy stop! aghh stop t-teasing!”
“mmm i know peach, but are you ready? i don’t think i’ll be able to stop myself from fucking this pretty cunt of yours.” his hands worked at the skin of your ass and thighs, massaging and kneeling at your soft tissue.
he lined up his heavy cock to your wet entrance, circling his tip around your sensitive bud.
“fuck! luffy please god please i’m ready! need you so bad lu-“
he was needy himself, the anticipation of the pleasure was eating him alive, you looked so pretty for him. he cut you off and slipped easily into you, he practically melted at the feeing of your perfect cunt consuming all of him so effortlessly. “oh fuckk! so so warm. . . shit, can i move peach?”
the gushing pleasure between your thighs was intense but ohhh so good, you bounced back on him to get him moving again, your mouth was preoccupied with biting down on your lower lip.
you struggled with your words.. “lu. . . please. . . move.” pleas and begs left your drooling lips.
he pulled out slowly, feeling your tight walls hug his begging tip made the dirtiest sounds drip from his sweet mouth. his rough hands pushed down on the small of your back before following through with his fast strokes. “so tight y/n and so fucking wet baby. how’s my dick feel? haaah- tell me.”
“f-feels so good lu! please, don’t stop. . . auuh!. . . fucking me like that!”
your walls pulled around his cock, wishing for him to fill you up.
“peach? mm so close, say my name fa me?”
his hips rammed into you with the same momentum as his words, bottoming out with each stroke from his long shaft. that same flooding feeling from earlier filled your cunt, sweet moans of his name filled his cabin as you feverishly squeezed around him.
“lu- luffy! ah! luffy. . . luffy! f-fuck- luf. . . c-can i cum?! please baby fuck me harder!” you whined.
“that’s it y/n. . . say your captains name~”
“shit, hold on peach, cum with me? you can do it pretty girl… hahh- dammit. . . wanna fill you up…”
as you laid with your face down in the blankets, your hand reached between your trembling thighs to toy with your swollen clit as he continued to hit you deep from behind.
“shit— i’m gonna cum y/n. . . ya cunts sucking me too good~”
you yelped, he had a habit of pinching your soft checks when he would cum. the pain mixed with the pleasure though, it was enough to push you past the edge. “mmm-me too luffy! fuck me so good~” his warm seed filled you right as you were coming, you both making a mess all over his bed.
he held still for a moment to feel your warmth just a bit longer before pulling his cock out. the wetness of you cunt holding him in as he calmed down from his rampage. eventually he removed himself from you and left trails of kisses from your lower back all the way to your shoulder blades, hugging you from behind and holding you close as the two of you cuddle in your sticky little mess.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
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werecreature-addicted · 8 months
Note
Really dumb but I love that werewolves are convenient. Like ok, he can be in regular beefy wildman human form and I can do things like take him to dinner or introduce him to my mom and there's NOTHING amiss except the fact that he's attached to me at all times, has literally no manners at all, and really likes it when I scratch behind his ears (which is slightly endearing, honestly). He's just a charming weirdo, perfect.
But then for me? Fluffy, beastial, sexy as can be. And in the BEDROOM? Literal beast, wild breeding sessions, many sexy bite marks left behind, some VERY sore mornings... it's the best of both worlds, honestly!
best of both worlds truly. a gentleman in the streets and a monster in the sheets. Literally, if you're into that sort of thing.
As long as you don't mind a man who's a little clingy, you two will get along great! He just likes being by your side, You have no idea what is out there, it wouldn't hurt to have a werewolf at your side to keep you safe.
He's a pack animal! Of course, family is important to him. He puts a lot of effort into making a good impression on your family and the people closest to you.
He's super respectful and fun. sure maybe he isn't used to using a fork and knife when he eats but he will TRY if that's something that's important to you.
But when you two are alone? all that flies out the window. Not to say that he isn't wonderful and loving- just much more dominating. He shoves his head between your legs and growls when you try to shove him away. How is it "too much"? Your legs aren't even shaking yet let him eat.
He's much more likely to growl in your ear about how dirty you are for liking this. What a gross little monster fucker you are, begging for his cock like this. Do you think you've earned it? Do you think you deserve his big monster cock? No... he doesn't think you've been good enough. You better get to work.
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bas-writes · 5 months
Text
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Out of Words
Character: Nanami Kento Reader: afab (aka reader with a vagina; ambiguous body descriptions, neutral words used regarding genitalia with an exception for word “cunt”) CW: explicit nsfw content, PWP, one shot, established relationship, plus size reader, vaginal sex Word Count: 1k Synopsis: Just Nanami asking his plus size partner to ride him. And being in awe. Based on prompt 13 from this list. A/N: The original version got deleted because I have quite...complicated relationship with this text. But encouraged by my partner I eventually decided to put it back into the wild. So, enjoy! maybe for the second time if you already saw it aklskljjhd
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"Ride me."
It slips past Nanami's lips almost unwittingly, like a voice speaking straight from the depths of his subconsciousness. The rhythm breaks: the both of you are utterly confused in the best, most excited way possible, almost frozen in place for a few, heavy seconds. 
He releases your wrists, suddenly realizing he held them so hard there will be bruises shaped like his fingers, then shifts his body to the side, pulling yours with himself. You squeeze thighs around his hips for leverage and balance, and he can't help letting out a little, breathy groan of appreciation. He loves the softness, the rolls forming on them flush to his body, the yet tentative moves as you're looking for the most comfortable position for your knees. It's just the beginning and he's already entranced by the feel and views.
From comfortably nestled in pillows, your legs wide open to fit his wide body in between, you're above him now, in your wonderful glory, in power and control over him. As you ease into the new situation, your weight gradually presses close to his hips until you settle on the angle you like. Nanami clenches teeth, an inch away from successfully catching a moan; he's much deeper in your now, squeezed tight by your slick, hot walls, and sentenced to obediently awaiting your moves. 
The fear of accidentally hurting you, prior stirred by your wrists, fades now. He grabs your hips with all he's got for your—not to hurry you up nor to pull you closer, but to feel you, to sink his fingers into your softness and to feed his eyes with the dip of your silhouette around them. 
You shift on him for the last time, balance grabbed and checked, and lean slightly to the back, your eyes closed as you sink into the sensation. You start slowly, almost too slow for the both of you, either shy or testing the new waters. Nanami holds his breath back, irrationally worried a draft of air might interrupt you; his nails scratch deep at your skin, vertical lines right next to your stretch marks. He's going to kiss them with care later, insatiably sipping on your warmth, but now nothing can peel his attention away from desiring you. He's addicted to the sway of your hips, to the bouncing rhythm you soon pick up, to the flow of your body on top of him. 
Nanami can't possibly grow tired of the sight of you in your naked glory. Since the day he's been graced with it for the first time he only grows more and more hungry. He loves every inch of it, whether you love it yourself or not, and usually doesn't shy from praising and adoring it—but now, with you bouncing on his cock, something keeps his words in check. Everything he feels like saying seems inappropriate, too simple and too vulgar. All he can do is to stare, eyes wide open in wonder, lips heavy of breath, and hands full of your curves. He lets them wander at times, to knead your ass or to support you at the waist, but every time the sensation grows too strong to handle, and he returns to your hips in hurry. It can't end like this, not now, when he's still starved, when he knows you can still show him more. 
A rumble of your name follows an especially bold move of yours, and Nanami claws at your thighs with desperation. You've caught him off-guard this time, with his hands out of control when you suddenly clenched hard on him, squeezing him deep in your hot slick. He has to close eyes, to spare himself at least the delicious views, but the feeling is right there—your tight cunt, your big and soft ass, your thighs tensing under his fingertips and pressing flush to his sides.
"Fuck—" He desperately tries to keep his hips in check, fights with each desperate attempt to jerk up, fails. "Holy shit—"
He's ready to beg you to slow down and show him mercy, equally ashamed of himself and turned on by the thought alone. You coo something about him squirming and twitching but he can't quite tell words from the stream of your voice. Blindly, he reaches up, hands stopping before they can reach your middle and pawing at your soft tummy. Again, you speak to him, but he's deaf in his pleasure, maybe if he opened his eyes—
He can't open them. If he does, it's the end. If he sees you, messy, disheveled, tired and so beautiful, he won't be able to last any longer. If he takes one more peek of your body bouncing on top of him, of you using him to your pleasure—
"Kento—" You beg him first, your voice drenched with ecstasy and breaking.
Nanami can't resist such a melody. He snaps his eyes open as if under a spell.
Your name dies between slurred whimpers when his hold tightens, clawing its way into your skin, and Nanami, early, way too early, caves in to pleasure. Eyes plastered to your bouncing tum and his hands sinking in it, now determined to not miss anything if it's bound to happen anyway, he joins the stuttering rhythm of your hips, just on time to push you into orgasm. A few thrusts later, stirred by the tight spasming of your cunt, he follows suit with a loud, the loudest this night, groan. 
For a moment, reality around slurs too, and when he regains control over his senses, Nanami finds you in his arms, nestled on top of him, sweaty and breathing heavy. He runs hand up and down your back, smiling at the feel of rolls and softness underneath. 
Your body presses his tight—and yet again Nanami reasserts himself his life truly wouldn't be the same if cruel fate ever took this blessed feeling away from him.
"One more time?" He whispers, lips pressed to the crown of your head. "I'm not quite full of you yet, my love."
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angelltheninth · 17 days
Note
Could i request Zoro + breeding/baby fever?
Yes you can! Typing this so fast.
Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Fem!Reader
Tags: nfsw, smut, baby fever, talk of pregnancy, mating press, breeding kink, praise, scratch marks
A/N: They really didn't have to make OPLA Zoro so good looking. Damn them!
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You told Zoro many times how much you wanted to have a family with him. "Not the right time." He'd say. Tonight he said he wanted to give it a try, he finally wanted it as much as you did, "Let's make a baby tonight." His words made your pussy clench around his cock.
"Are you sure?" You asked, your smile showing how happy you are. Accidentally you locked your legs around him, intent on keeping him close to you. Zoro nodded, his soft lips brushing against your own in reassurance.
"I'll make sure of it. We're gonna make a baby tonight." He promised as he pushed your legs up, his thighs pressing against your ass, "Fuck my seed right in there, so many times okay? Can you handle that for me sweetheart?" Your legs pushed against his lower back, voice shaking as he bottomed out, drops of cum already flowing down your ass. "I know you like this but we have to make sure this stays inside you okay. Tighten up for me, let me feel how much you want this." Zoro's eyes looked deeply into yours as his hips snapped forward, driving his cum deeper as it shot out of his tip.
Imagination ran wild for you, picturing yourself with a big stomach, how Zoro might kiss it, cuddle with it, be careful when he makes love to you but never make you feel undesirable. His cock pulsed inside you, his breath coming out short, sweat dripping that his perfect, handsome face. You could see his arms straining next to your body, he was getting close. Although you couldn't have him as close you wanted in this folded position you could still let him know you wanted his cum.
Your hips rolled upwards, meeting his hard thrusts, getting the floorboards to protest under you. Perhaps doing this on the hard floor wasn't the best idea but your orgasms didn't allow you to think about it too much.
"Zoro, let it out, give me more of your come again. Make sure you come a lot, so that I get-" The rest of your plea faded away, as did most of the things around you, replaced by a white hot sensation in your lower belly and soon your pussy.
"Don't you worry there's a lot in here for you. I'll give you twins, triplets, any number you want." He promises as his hips stayed glued to yours, keeping most of his cum inside your pussy, going to your womb where it belonged.
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sanspuppet · 3 months
Note
Hey! I know your hard hours are currently closed but you can take your time on this request I'll be patient hehe but i need YOU to write this because you're lowkey my favourite writer 🤭 but anyway could I request a san smut where y/n gets horny from reading a sex scene from a book 👀 hehe tanku ;))
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San x afab!reader
W/T: lot of dirty talk (yay), kind of daddy kink, pet names (sweetheart, baby, kitten), unprotected sex (👎🏻), breeding kink
A/O: ahww thank you anon! i really appreciate it mwah <33 i hope you can like it!
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Your legs shut intensely as soon as the novel you’ve been reading comes to an end. Fuck if it was a masterpiece that book, the chemistry between the two lovers caught your attention until the last sentence of the very last page. Less to say it, you almost forgot your own existence reading the scene when the two got finally to make out, they whispered little dirty things to each other ears, groped every part of their bodies, before having the most romantic and wild sex you could have ever experienced. You closed the book, placing it next to your side. Your legs were crossed and your stare lost in thin air.
“What got you so exited, sweetheart?” San was heading towards you, with a slight smirk growing on his face, his dimples popped out of his cheeks.
“W-What? What are you talking ‘bout?” you looked at him sitting next to you on the couch, lips parted because you were still regaining consciousness from the book.
“Look at you, baby” panic and shame flowed through your veins, as he pointed the dark stain on your gray shorts.
Fuck.
“You must have liked that novel so much, am i right?” his left hand rested on your inner thigh, caressing it gently. He wasn’t really expecting a reply, though. “Was the sex scene better than our personal ones, baby?” he enjoyed teasing you for sure.
Actually, you liked very much having sex with him, but at only the thought of him fucking you the way you just read, you were throbbing. Which he immediately noticed because of your light clothes.
“Tell me how should i fuck you, then.” he got close to your ear, his thumb rubbed against your lower lip. “Do it for me, kitten” he planted a kiss on your burning cheeks.
“Grope me San, please” you didn’t want to sound too much desperate, but the timbre of your voice couldn’t lie to him. San quickly picked you up so easily that you seemed weighting just as much as a feather.
He threw you onto the bed, his hands found their ways under you t-shirt. “Yeah i see, you want me to touch your soft skin, leave bruises and hickeys all over it?” San squeezed your tits, capturing your lips in his. “I can’t wait to be inside you, you’re so wet i can see it.” One of his hands went down your body, once he reached your panties, he slided one finger under them, rubbing it against your sobbing cunt. Pathetic mumbles left your mouth, your nails were already scratching his back.
“I need this pussy so bad, i wanna give you my babies and stuff you full.” The innocence in his voice was (to say the least) out of tune with the actual meaning of his words. San didn’t hesitate much to drag down your lower-half clothes and shove two fingers inside your sloppy hole.
“Fuck! San!” you breathed out, moaning at the feeling of his fingertips swirling inside your pussy. He spanked your hip harshly with his free hand. “You know how to call me”
He left a hickey on your pelvis. “Say you love me, baby” he kept biting on your skin, as he prepared your cunt to take his big cock, pumping in you with his fingers first. “Say you want me to be filled up by my cum.”
“Y-yes daddy, i want that. Want it so bad” you kind of hated how pathetic and needy you sounded, but oh fuck if he knew how to foreplay.
“Good girl. You’re stretched enough, ready to take it?” San pulled out and dragged his boxers down. His dick was extremely hard and you could tell he couldn’t wait any longer.
“Before you’re too fucked out to even speak, any other particular from the book?” he parted your legs to make room for himself.
“Just fuck me dumb, please.”
“Gonna drive you cockdrunk, kitten, i know you like to” San lubricated his tip, rubbing it against your soaking folds, before sliding inside you all at once. His hands pinned your hips down, stopping you from every move as he started to thrust in you with all of his force. His pounds were deep and decisive, searching for your g-spot.
“Fuck fuck fuck! Right there, t-there. Daddy” you whined out as soon as you felt his cockhead kissing your core. He sped up his pace, pounding rougher, making you tearing from pleasure.
“Take it, just like that. You’re tight pussy’s squeezing me so well” he leaned over you to inhale your sweet scent, the perfume you wear every day that he bought for you, he loved smelling it on you. San giggled in the crook of your neck, then he bit on your burning skin to repress a moan. “Fuck baby, it’s so wet that’s so easy to thrust into it, im not gonna last long”
Your hands cupped his cheeks, planting a messy kiss on his lips. “Please, cum with me, i’m so close daddy” He grunted highly in pleasure, his thrusts got faster but also sloppier. The squelching sound made him so fucking horny, your moans were like music to his ears.
“Yeah? You’ close? Then fucking take my cum.”
San did a few last thrust into your soaked cunt, before you could feel his warm seed flowing into you. He didn’t stop though, he kept pounding to spurt it deeper inside you. His hands caressed every inch of your body, as he murmured praises to your ear:
“Did so well for me, always taking it all. Such a good little girl, aren’t you? You’re so pretty like this.” he layed next to you, leaving sweet kisses all over your neck and face.
“Now tell me, was it better than that book?”
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rinstaro · 1 year
Note
Tbh I don’t have an idea for this one kore, but smth horny asf with my bb time or even wild cause I’ve been having a bit of a rough time
hope ur well and thank you!!
-💫
of course, anything for you dear. this took so long!!!! sorry i’ve been so dead lately, life is tryna whoop my ass. i was playing botw and changed into the barbarian set and…… yeah. you know how it “bolsters links fighting spirit”? in my head it just makes him a lot more feral so it makes him horny too. i hope you like it! and i hope you feel better soon! i promise that these rough times will pass 🌟
cw: he’s a little mean, doggy, forest sex, reader is implied to be shorter than him, slight predator/prey dynamics, y’all are just messing around… or are you? reader has a vagina no pronouns, not proofread &lt;3
minors do not interact.
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you played with wild’s stuff all the time. he didn’t mind so long as you didn’t hurt yourself. his swords, his bows, and especially his armor. no matter how many rupees he’d spend buying you whatever clothes you wanted, you were always fascinated with his instead.
his knights armor was heavy and sturdy. his climbing gear showed off his toned arms. his sheikah armor had you drooling.
the only set you hadn’t seen on him was the barbarian armor. you always wondered about the set. the headpiece was just a little scary, so you asked him what the armor was for when it covered so… little.
“it makes me a little more…. it’s easier to fight.”
he left it at that, but it made you curious. so it made him stronger, but you wanted to see that firsthand. you asked him if he’d put it on for you to which he shied away. “i don’t think you’d like it…”
you rolled your eyes, begging him to do it, just once. he eventually caved. when he did, you immediately realized why he was hesitant to show you his armor.
he looked fucking divine.
the way it exposed the best parts of him had you salivating. you circled him, trailing your gaze up and down his body. the tattoos that manifest on his torso and legs... you wanted to taste them for yourself. “i cannot believe you hid this from me,” you mumbled. you wrapped your arms around him, tracing his skin with your fingertips. you could hear his breath hitch as you teased him relentlessly.
suddenly he grabbed your wrists, looking at you with a hardened gaze.
“i’m not sure if we should… do that right now.”
you could tell wild was holding himself back, so you decided to kick it up a notch. you dropped to your knees in front of him, batting your eyelashes when he hisses. your hands trailed down to his thighs, nails scratching the skin ever so slightly. “come on, you don’t wanna have fun? at least let me– oh!”
the grip on your wrists tightened, and you were locked in place. your heated gaze met his, and you shuddered. he looked like he was about to eat you alive. wild’s nostrils flared as he stared down at you, seemingly trying to keep himself together. he slowly leaned down, eyes never leaving yours.
“sure, let’s have some fun.”
that’s how you ended up deep in the forest, heart racing and wild hot on your trail. this was harder than you thought, but it was definitely exciting. the deal he made you was simple. just a quick game of hide and seek.
“you get five minutes. if you win, you get your way. if i win, i get mine.”
you took off as soon as he uttered the word ‘run’, excited giggles ringing in his ears as he watched you. he waited til you were out of sight, and even gave you an extra minute. after counting, he started walking at a leisurely place in the direction you took off in, grinning to himself.
sure, this was a little unfair. you didn’t stand a chance against him without the set, let alone with it. but you didn’t need to know that. you wanted to have some fun, so he’ll entertain you. wild wondered how long you’d last when he finally got you under him.
you stopped to catch your breath, hands on your knees as you panted. surely this was far enough. you'd been running at full speed for a while, and you were sure at least 2 minutes had passed. you had to have gotten pretty far.
only moments later did you hear a loud “thud” from behind you. you spun around to be met with trees and shrubs, the silence making you uneasy. your eyes scanned the area only to find nothing. probably just some animal, right? even if it was, you weren’t gonna take the chance. you slowly backed away in the opposite direction of the noise, keeping an eye out for any movement.
when you turned back to run, you were met with the hard surface of someone’s chest. you groaned, rubbing your nose before your eyes widened at the sight of your boyfriend.
“i win, right?”
you opened your mouth to protest, quickly being cut off by him gripping your chin. his hold was gentle but the look in his eyes was anything but. “l-link?” he wore a twisted little grin, as if he’d just caught his first meal in days.
“so we’re doing this my way. i’ll still give you one choice. do you want it here, or do you want me to chase you back home?” your knees buckled at his words, your mind reeling. you couldn’t even begin to speak, sputtering out nothing but nonsense. wild huffed, grabbing your wrists and pinning you face first to the nearest tree. he pinned your arms on the side of you and spoke, “don’t move.” you nodded hastily.
“you know you look really cute when you run? it was hard not to take you right there. the wait was worth it, though,” he grinned. his fingers traced your spine, his hunger only growing as he watched you shiver.
wild placed a hand over your eyes and started trailing love bites down your neck. you whined. the bites felt hard enough to leave marks, yet you could still tell he was holding back. you pushed your ass back against him, trying to rile him up.
your boyfriend growled, suddenly biting down harshly on your neck. you whimpered loudly as your arms twitched with the need to move, which didn't go unnoticed.
"look at you, still trying to be a good pet. ah, its a little late though. you've already pushed me to my limit," he snarled, landing a smack to your ass. he watched the flesh jiggle, humming contentedly. without warning, your bottoms were ripped from you and thrown to the ground. the roles were now swapped, wild on his knees before you- well, behind you.
you felt him part your folds with his thumbs, watching your sex drip with arousal. you squealed at your sudden nudity, arms reaching back to grab him. he quickly put a stop to that, grabbing both wrists in one hand. "on the tree. don't interrupt me."
you obeyed his orders, bringing your arms back to yourself and placing them on the tree. once he was satisfied with your position, he gave no warning before licking a long stripe up your cunt. you moaned shakily, the pleasure between your legs making you tremble. wild hummed, tongue swiping across your clit at a rapid pace.
he ate you like a man starved, your position not allowing you any room to squirm. you moaned his name over and over, and it only seemed to make him more ravenous. a mix of spit and slick dripped down his chin while his nails dug into your thighs. he'd been waiting for this for far too long. "l-link, im gonna- keep going, please!"
your boyfriend wasn't listening to your whines, tongue fucking you until your eyes crossed. he was doing this for him.
only a couple moments later did you gush all over his face, legs shaking in his grasp. wild didn't stop even when you whimpered for him to slow down. he made sure you were licked clean before pulling away from your cunt.
"b-babe what- oh!"
you weren't sure when he undid his belt, but you felt the head of his cock push against your folds.
"you always taste fucking amazing. be sure to give me another taste later," he whispered in your ear. his buttercup blonde hair tickled your shoulder as he leaned over you. "that wasn't loud enough for me, though. maybe i just need to be a little rougher, then you'll scream for me right?"
without another word, he pushed his cock into your cunt making your eyes roll back into your head. it took no time for you to adjust to his size, and he took no time in starting up a mean pace. the sound of his hips slamming into yours rang in your ears, every pleasurable thrusts making your head spin. one hand left your hips to grab your hair, tugging slightly. you winced, the pain sending heat right to your cunt.
"oh, you like that? squeezing me so hard— so cute, baby, thinking you could beat me," he groaned. you could only respond with loud moans, your brain turned to mush. "sound so pretty, gonna cum?" you nodded frantically in response, begging for him to keep going. he watched your cunt suck him in, your ass jiggling with every mean thrust.
"p-please, feels good!" your words slurred together, drool beginning to drip from your chin. it was too much and yet you wanted more. he was hitting your g spot with every thrust, his balls slapped against your clit, and you couldn't imagine a better way for this game of yours to end. you heard him snarl before he picked up his pace.
"f-fuck! 'm my god yes!" a few more thrusts and you were spasming in between him and the tree. wild stopped his movements, relishing in the feeling of your cunt squeezing around him. he chucked to himself as he watched you writhe. he suddenly frowned, realizing he hadn't been able to see your face when you came. oh, well. he'll just make you cum again.
wild pulled out, turning you around and staring you in the eyes. he then watched as your chest rose and fell, mouth hung open as you tried to catch your breath. the ferocity that was temporarily sated was now rising again.
you yelped in surprise when he lifted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. your back rested against the tree as you furrowed your brows in confusion. "b-babe?"
"you're so gorgeous. how many times do you think i could fuck you til your legs gave out?" he questioned casually, a dark smile on his face. your legs clenched against him, hands coming to rest on his shoulders while he held you up by your thighs. you swallowed thickly, unable to answer. "hm? three? four? or more than that? well, i guess we'll see..."
wild never broke eye contact as he slipped his cock back into you, not even giving you a moment before fucking you at a savage pace. your back arched against the tree as you squirmed in his grasp. he pounded himself deeper into your cunt, his growls getting louder and your vision beginning to turn white. he was too much, fucking you so mercilessly and yet you couldn't bring yourself to want to stop. is this what he meant? he thought you wouldn't like this?
"l-link!"
"hm?" he answered, never faltering in his pace.
"harder!" your boyfriend's eyes widened slightly in surprise before he huffed in disbelief. you just continued to surprise him. he adjusted his grip on your thighs, leaning in so that you two were nose to nose.
"i've always wanted to see how much you could take."
1K notes · View notes
shintin · 6 months
Text
Forbidden Flames
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↳ Gojo Satoru x Female Reader
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One-shot
Summary: Satoru Gojo receives a letter, inviting him to a secluded cottage in the forest. Is it a trap by curse users or a haunting memory trying to scratch his wounds?
Or a story about how You and Satoru Gojo fucked after years.
Word count: +11 k.
Genre: explicit smut, romance, angst (Jujutsu Kaisen au).
Warnings/Tags: +18, NSFW, reader-insert, no Y/N, post-breakup, soft Satoru Gojo, curse user reader, no death, too much fluff and kissing, cunnilingus, creampie, fingering, unprotected sex (c’mon! we all want this), multiple orgasms, hair pulling, tear licking, emotional trauma, emotional sex, no manga spoilers.
Notes: Hey there! I wrote this because Gege Akutami left an emotional mark on me. So, you know...
You can read the "Disclaimers" at the end.
Song Recommendation: Forbidden Flames Playlist
You can read my fics on AO3. If you have any questions, don’t be shy and ASK.
Back to masterlist
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As the afternoon sun cast long shadows through the dense foliage, a mysterious man with stark white hair and a black blindfold stepped into the heart of the desolate wilderness. Satoru Gojo. The air hung heavy with the earthy scent of wet soil mingling with the musty aroma of decaying leaves, a reminder of the rainstorm that had visited the night before.
Every step he took got lost between the giggles and hisses of harmless curses hiding behind the trees with fear. The ground beneath his feet was carpeted with a mosaic of fallen leaves, their vibrant red, orange, and gold colors now muted and lifeless, as if drained of all vitality. Some of them, with still a breath to take, crunched beneath his weight, the sound of a heartrending dirge that reverberated through the desolation.
Tall, gnarled trees stood sentinel on either side, their branches reaching out like skeletal fingers as if yearning to trap the unwary. Their towering forms were shrouded in darkness, their essence reduced to withered remnants. They whispered mournful laments in the wind, their voices carrying tales of forgotten sorrows.
The forest, once flourishing and thriving, now seemed like a tragic tableau frozen in time. The canopy above formed a suffocating barrier that only got disturbed by the man's ethereal presence. Wild ferns brushed against his legs, leaving behind a trace of dew upon his black trousers. The moist ground yielded beneath his every step as if reluctant to release its grip from his boots' footprints.
As he pressed further into the jungle, the darkness deepened, the path twisting and turning like a labyrinth of despair. The shadows grew longer, stretching out like grasping tendrils as if eager to ensnare his soul. The silence became oppressive, broken only by the occasional painful cry of a distant creature.
The cottage he had received its address stood as a solitary figure amidst the gloomy jungle, a crumbling monument to forgotten dreams. Its dilapidated walls whispered of lost hopes and shattered promises, its windows veiled with white curtains.
With his hands casually tucked into his pockets, he watched the scene before him, a twisted smile playing upon his lips. He thought it was a perfect place, a trap waiting to spring him. But who would be foolhardy enough to challenge the strongest of all times?
But wait!
He couldn't feel any cursed energy! His six eyes were dumb. There was only one who could blind their watchful gaze.
So, when Satoru Gojo approached the house, his heart quickened after a long time, anticipation and anxiety coursing through his veins. The stage was set, the elements conspiring to test his resolve. Would he emerge from this shadowed encounter unscathed, or would the jungle claim yet another victim, lost to the depths of its sorrow-laden clutches?
Satoru's focus fixated on the doorknob, a slight gulp revealing his hesitation. Taking a deep breath, he turned and pushed open the door. The scent of something sweet enveloped his nostrils, a reminiscent embrace that momentarily distracted his senses. However, as his eyes met the sight that awaited him, an unexpected revelation struck him with a force that resurfaced long-forgotten memories.
The inside resembled an aged hideout, with wooden walls and colorful chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, casting warm, dappled patterns on the worn tatami floor. In the center of the room, a round table took its place, adorned with a vase of delicate forget-me-not flowers. Flanking the table were two chairs. And then, in the small kitchen stood the person who had left a void in his heart.
"You're late," your voice rang out in a cheerful tone, beckoning him forward. "Come inside. It's chilly out." With your back facing the door, you stood at the counter, appearing preoccupied with unwrapping something.
Caught in a maelstrom of emotions, Satoru's thoughts fragmented like scattered puzzle pieces, their intended purpose obscured by the inner turmoil. His hand held the doorknob tightly, trapped in a state of ambiguity, unable to release its grip.
Was this a mirage? How could it be that when you seemed precisely the way he had traced the outline of your body in the air while lying in bed, unable to sleep?
Yes, of course, there were nights when the desire to run his fingers through your hair filled his dreams. It was inevitable; your scent permeated everything, even riding on the breeze. There were days fatigue misled him, mistaking weariness for the embrace, he craved, only to discover the hollowness within his very bones. Your body was no longer curled around him, no comfort, and in your absence, each day left him icy, with lips turning blue and hands yearning for the warmth of your touch. He felt adrift in a blizzard, seeking the faint flicker of a fire you had extinguished.
What the fuck is wrong with you, Satoru? Think! Is this a manipulation technique?
And then, as if compelled by an unseen power, you turned your head, causing his heart to skip a beat—countless beats. You were undeniably real.
No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.
Seeing you was akin to being hit in the knee with a bullet. Satoru's legs nearly gave way, his heart raced, and his hands turned clammy, almost causing him to collapse. He had never felt this urge to tear off his blindfold before, as your departure had happened so abruptly that he didn't have a chance to see you. Although he had committed every detail of you to memory, but this…this… witnessing it in person was an entirely different experience.
He stepped back, feeling the heaviness of the past, necessitating some distance. The harsh truths loomed, threatening to engulf him as he wrestled with the profound effect of your presence. Yet, he couldn't tear his gaze away from you, his mind struggling to comprehend the unfolding situation. The reality was so surreal, making it difficult for him to grasp that it was really occurring.
"Why are you just standing there?" you asked, holding a pack of his beloved Kikufuku mochis in your hands. A radiant smile graced your face, illuminating the damp room with its brightness.
He couldn't give two fucks about mochis when your face had that effect on him, always causing him to lose track of where he was, who he was, and what he might say or do. And that familiar smile, it killed him a little. His gaze remained there, lingering for too long, his concealed eyes giving away his thoughts. "Why do you have that look on your face?" you asked, tilting your head with curiosity and stepping closer to him.
As you stood before him, the closeness amplified the wave of emotions within him. Joy and disbelief raced through his veins. The fragrance that surrounded you, so hauntingly acquainted, sparked a rush of nostalgia.
Satoru Gojo was born with a specific purpose, a set of perfect eyes, and the weight of his lineage on his shoulders. He was reserved and calculated. When he mastered the Limitless technique, he concluded that infinite solitude was the only way to survive. Because how he could describe the experience of seeing everything, for when you see everything, you see nothing. An excess of color turns into pure black, an infinite void.
Yes, he was born with those six eyes. People never let him forget. But to you, his eyes were simply eyes. He recalled the first time you teased him about them and how his heart caught in his chest because he had never seen someone as vibrant and colorful as you.
It wasn't exactly love at first sight, but it was something like that. The first time he saw you, he felt it. An ache. Like a little electric burn. He felt his life changed.
Gradually, his loneliness began to dissipate. He found a place for himself in this chaotic world. With you, he could laugh, cry, joke around, and even be a brat. It was something no one could genuinely grasp—the feeling of finally being alive as a person. Before you, he felt he hadn't truly existed, merely scattered atoms in an indifferent universe following a predetermined path. But you changed everything. You dismantled and rebuilt him anew. You molded him, nurtured him, and despite him being the strongest, you kept him safe.
Without a noble title or material wealth, you were everything that went against the expectations of the Clan Elders. Yet, you stood faithfully by his side, precisely where he believed you belonged. Or at least, that's what he presumed.
Then, on that fateful day, the day he desperately wished was nothing more than a dreadful nightmare, reality unfolded before him. How could it be real? He stood there, confronted by the lifeless bodies of two Higher Ups and their protectors, with you covered in their blood. It was inconceivable. He couldn't accept that you were responsible for such a gruesome scene. Yet, you showed no remorse. You firmly believed it was the only solution, fed up with their destructive actions that brought ruin upon sorcerers deemed insignificant. You had accepted the notion that a problem without a remedy should be eradicated like an unwelcome weed.
On that day, he considered shaking your shoulders and demanding that you deny it all. He even contemplated going against everyone because what was the fucking point of wielding such power if he couldn't safeguard the woman he loved? The thought of quitting and escaping with you crossed his mind, too. He was willing to sacrifice everything: power, wealth, status, even his own life. However, you didn't desire any of those things.
His friend, Suguru Geto, once posed a question: Was he Satoru Gojo because he was the strongest, or was he the strongest because he was Satoru Gojo? At that time, he had no answer. A 17-year-old couldn't possibly find a response to such a profound question. However, when you entered his life, everything changed. Being the strongest lost its significance. He was just Satoru Gojo, and he was who he was because you loved him. His existence held meaning because you touched his life. He saw because he needed to gaze upon you. He spoke because he longed to hear your voice.
And then, similar to his best friend, after causing a bloodbath, you also walked out of his life. Yet, this time, it wasn't solely loneliness that engulfed him. It felt like one of his lungs had been taken away, and he heavied without you by his side through each passing moment. He became nothing once more. There was a hole in his life where you used to fit perfectly, and no matter what he did to try and fill it, nothing worked.
It was a strange anguish, a pain he never anticipated or conceived of. It consumed him from within, setting him ablaze with a profound emptiness. Then, defying the assumption that someone as formidable as him could experience sorrow, he was burdened with the task of erasing you. It was as if you were deemed nothing more than a blemish, a dishonor.
"What... what look?" he struggled to say, his voice tinged with a desperate yearning. Regret lingered in his tone as his words fell short. With a touch of vulnerability, he shut his eyes beneath the comforting confines of his blindfold, seeking refuge in the veil of darkness. Taking a deep breath, he consciously filled his lungs, using them as an anchor amidst the swirling storm of sensations enveloping him.
"That look," you remarked, your voice carrying a mischievous tone that floated in the atmosphere. "It's as if you don't trust me," you added teasingly. A few playful strands of hair escaped their intended position and delicately framed your face, casting a bewitching allure. An irresistible urge welled within him, compelling him to extend his hand and tuck those strands behind your ear—stupid muscle memory. However, he restrained himself, his hand suspended mid-air, resolute in resisting the magnetic pull of his desires.
"Why did you invite me here?" Satoru voiced, his grip on the doorknob loosening as the impact of reality settled upon him. The initial shock transformed into a lucid understanding. He wasn't oblivious. He knew that you were aware of his assignment to eliminate you. So, why? Was it because you recognized your unstoppable nature? Was it because you had realized that the blackhole existed within you, devouring everything you once held dear unless someone intervened?
"You could have refused to come, yet here you are," you whimsically remarked, a devilish glint in your eyes as you punctuated your words with a wink. You strolled over to the weathered table and set the pocket upon its aged surface.
"Cut it out!" Satoru snapped, his frustration mounting. "You know, I had no idea it was you!" His heart thumped in his chest, urging his feet to move forward, even as his mind screamed at him to flee. A sense of unease gripped him, acknowledging the futility of engaging in a battle he felt ill-prepared to win.
You turned towards him, a hint of a smile gracing your lips as your hands stayed concealed behind your back. Leaning against the chair, you arched an eyebrow, your eyes locked on him. "I have a feeling you knew it was me as soon as you arrived at the house," you declared, a jovial tone lacing your words. "After all, I'm the only one capable of concealing my cursed energy from you."
"We both know that I shouldn't be here. I—" Satoru's sentence dissolved, left unfinished, as your hand reached out, bridging the gap between you with a gentle touch. Infinity never worked with you. Even the very essence of the cursed energy recognized that you posed no threat to him. Furthermore, he would gladly provide you with any justification to touch him.
Lost in his reverie, Satoru suddenly became acutely aware of your presence. The magnitude of his longing and the depth of his yearning surged within him. In that instant, he recognized the immense emptiness you had left and how much he had missed you. Emotions swirled together, blending past and present, uncertainty and desire, in a delicate dance that would shape your fates.
"Why are you here, then?" you inquired, and his eyes met yours, reflecting the same yearning that dwelled in his heart. "Tell me, did you come in to kill me?" With a deliberate movement, you folded his fingers, molding them into the shape he would use to unleash his hollow purple. Bringing his hand close to your heart, you held it there. Despite the gravity of the situation, a soft smile adorned your lips.
He couldn't do this.
Taken aback by your unexpected gesture, Satoru swiftly withdrew his hand from your grasp. Anger and heartbreak swirled within him, entwining in a tumultuous storm. The realization hit him like a relentless wave, crashing against the shores of his consciousness. How had you drifted so far apart? When had the divergence between your paths become so profound that he failed to notice? The weight of your choice, to embrace the life of a curse user, to tread a road stained with blood, bore down upon him with a heavy burden. The pain on his face mirrored the fracture within his heart, a sense of loss mingling with a flicker of betrayal.
He wished he could say something. He wished he could start yelling, expressing all the thoughts and desires he had harbored since then—whether shouting, pouring out his heart, or expressing frustration. However, he adhered to the predetermined script you anticipated because he loved you unconditionally, unable to deny you anything.
"I didn't think so," you murmured, closing the gap between you, pressing your lips against his in a way that effortlessly eroded his resistance.
You tilted his face down, your hand caught somewhere behind his neck and the base of his jaw, and you kissed him softly and slowly, heat filling his blood with dangerous speed.
One of his hands naturally found its way to the back of your waist, holding you with a gentle yet possessive grasp, while the other securely clasped your arm, pulling you closer.
He felt incredible against you, your bodies fitting perfectly. Nothing ever came easier than kissing you. Every thought and worry wicked away, replaced by the feel of his mouth against your skin, his hand claiming your body.
In that moment, his eyes, his legacy, his clan's name, and the orders given about you faded away. This was his true purpose.
As your tongues entwined, a surge of electricity coursed through his veins, his body responding to the intoxicating enchantment of your touch. Your fingers traced the outline of his blindfold while others clung to his uniform as if he were your sole fulcrum in a world spinning out of control. Your back arched, and he embraced you tighter, his grip firm yet tender, his long fingers leaving an indelible mark upon your skin.
Breathless, as if you had just completed a marathon, you reluctantly pulled back from the heated exchange. Drawing him nearer, he yielded willingly, allowing you to guide him wherever you desired because wherever you led was where he believed to be his destination.
"Take this off," you beseeched, desperation and sorrow permeating your words as your forefinger lifted his blindfold and let it fall to the floor. His tousled hair cascaded softly over his forehead, unable to hide the azure eyes that had once captivated your heart.
In his eyes, tragedy and beauty could be seen, a stoicism that wouldn't be shaken, and childlike joy that couldn't help but flow.
He swallowed, and you shifted your hand to his ear, lightly grazing his earlobe with your pinkie before tracing down his jawline. There was no rejection, yet no clear confirmation either. Your hand brushed against his undercut as you continued.
"There you are," you whispered, your voice laden with kindness. Tears welled up in the corners of your eyes, a solitary droplet making its way down your cheek as you gently cradled his face in your hands. He looked down at you, counting each tear on your lovely cheeks.
He clasped your hand, kissing your palm before guiding it to rest upon his heart. It was the same foolish heart, steadfastly beating for you, never having faltered. Through teary eyes, you looked at him, and he remained struck by the sheer beauty that not even your tears could diminish.
As your bottom lip quivered beneath his touch, quickly, with a light sweep of his hand, he wiped away the tears that stained your stunning eyes. You missed him too, didn't you? Was it painful for you, too? Silly girl! You couldn't maintain your carefully constructed facades for more than ten minutes when it came to him.
The realization washed over him, dispelling any remaining doubts.
Without a second thought, he effortlessly lifted you, your legs encircling his waist while your hands secured around his neck. Engrossed in a fervent kiss, both of you surrendered to the moment as he clasped your back firmly, pulling you closer to himself, relishing the flavor of your lips.
Letting go wasn't an option when every fiber of his being had missed you.
Determined and resolute, he carried you out to a room he presumed to be the bedroom, even though it didn't matter whether there was a bed or a simple mattress; what mattered was the way your touch kindled a blazing fire within him, and he had no intention of bearing that flame alone.
Keeping you securely nestled in his arms, he forcefully kicked open the door and lowered you onto the welcoming comfort of the bed. The urgency to discard his black jacket left no room for delay. At the same time, your nimble hands deftly undid the buckle of your pants, but before you could remove them entirely, his hands moved with an instinctual hunger, swiftly stripping you of the garment and casting it aside as if propelled by an untamed fervor. The passion between you burned fiercely, filling the room with an all-encompassing energy that eclipsed any other thoughts or worries.
With a quick movement, he discarded his black t-shirt, revealing the well-defined curves of his chest that shimmered with a touch of sweat. His desire was tangible, his lust unmistakable as he straddled between your parted legs, his hands grasping your nape.
The taste of his lips met yours, initiating a sequence of fervent kisses that persisted without pause, each delving deeper than the last. The world around you lost its significance as your breaths synchronized in rhythm, the heat between your bodies escalating.
In the meantime, your hands moved swiftly, deftly unbuttoning your shirt.
As his lips briefly separated from yours, he uttered a whispered confession. "I hate how bad I want you," he admitted, his voice carrying a raw sincerity. However, before you could reply, his attention shifted to your neck, where his teeth gently grazed your sensitive flesh, leaving behind tracks of tantalizing nibbles and passionate kisses.
You couldn't help but release a gasp as pleasure and a twinge of pain electrified your senses, sending delightful shivers coursing down your spine. In the throes of passion, your hand curled into a fistful of his hair, a silent request for more. Call it masochist, but he loved it when you did this. He tenderly pulled at your hair in response, tilting your head back ever so slightly, baring more of your vulnerable neck to his hungry mouth.
Then, you did what came naturally to you. With a voice brimming with longing and ecstasy, you spoke his name, "Satoru," the sound slipping from your lips like a hushed prayer.
His actions came to an abrupt pause. His lips separated from your skin, and his grasp on your hair loosened as if a sudden realization had hit him like a splash of icy water. It was ironic how you still possessed this power over him, a power that could both thrill and unsettle him.
The sound of his name on your lips had become something he treasured, and damn it, he had missed hearing it again. Just like every fucking tiny thing he had missed about you.
With a sudden movement, he withdrew his head from the crook of your neck and brought his forehead close to yours. His hands found solace in brushing back strands of your hair with comforting strokes.
He shut his eyes, and in a whisper, his voice carried a hint of fragility, a rawness that tugged at your heartstrings. "Say it again," he pleaded, his voice breaking under the pressure of unexpressed sentiments. It was as if that simple word held immense significance, a lifeline to his heart that he desperately craved.
Without hesitation, you took a steadying breath, the name forming on your lips.
"Satoru."
"S-Say it kinder."
"Satoru."
"Say it slower."
"Satoru."
"Say it gentler."
"Satoru."
"Say it louder."
"Satoru."
"Say it as if you wanna tell me you miss me."
"Satoru…"
"Say it as if you're annoyed that I eat so many sweets."
"Satoru!"
"Is this why you made the trip to Sendai just to get me those mochis?"
"Say it."
"Satoru."
"Say it as if you ever cared, spared a single thought for me."
"SATORU."
"Say it as if when you lied in bed, you remembered something I once said."
"Satoru."
"Say it as if it hurt you too when someone said my name with yours."
"Satoru."
"Say it as if every time a door opened, you too expected me to walk out of it, that every time you cooked, you hummed my favorite songs."
"S-Satoru…"
"Say it as if you need me."
"Satoru."
"Say it again."
"Satoru."
"Again."
"…Satoru."
"Say it as if you want to tell me something important."
"Satoru."
"Say it as if you want me to know you won't stay."
"Toru."
"No. Not like this."
"Satoru?"
"Please."
"Satoru."
"Say it as if you want me to know you're gonna run away again."
"Satoru…"
"Huh. Better. Now say it as if you wanna tell that you slept badly without me, that you only dreamed of me, and in the morning, you woke up exhausted without having any desire to live."
"Satoru."
"You don't have a line, do you? No remorse. No regret. Not even a single thought for the man you left behind like a walking ghost. And you won't ever stop."
"Satoru."
"Once you were gone, they gathered all your belongings as evidence. See this hair tie on my wrist?" He lifted his hand. "This and your sweatshirt, which no longer carries your scent, are the only things I have left. Say it as if you still have that shirt of mine."
"Say it!"
"Sa-to-ru."
"Did you know that I actually thought if I messed myself up, went all self-destructive, and threw a massive tantrum, you'd come back? I mean, why should I bother taking care of myself? That was supposed to be your job, right?"
"Sa…toru."
"Oh, by the way, I completely wrecked that bench on the hill where you used to sit. And then I went ahead and destroyed the whole damn place, then just sat right there amidst the wreckage. I mean, why should I even give a damn when you stopped caring about me? Say it as if you get where I'm coming from."
"Satoru…"
"Yet you know what's funny? Ask me if I still love you like the first day?"
"Satoru?"
"It can't be just me, right? You can't be done with me. Tell me you love me."
"Okay. It's—"
"Satoru. Satoru. Satoru. Satoru. Satoru. Satoru. Satoru. Satoru…"
Everything he thought he knew flew right out the window. He had noticed the tremor in your breath and the shake in your voice, but the desperate murmurs of his name caused his eyes to flutter open. Your face was marked with the faint traces of tears, glistening in the light.
You blinked, revealing a spectrum of sadness and beauty unlike anything he'd seen before. The ability to convey so much with just a glance caught him entirely off guard.
Without hesitation, he leaned in and pressed his lips against the curve of your cheeks, softly caressing them. Nuzzling his nose against your skin, he lovingly kissed away the salty tears, his tongue delicately brushing your face with a soothing touch. Each tender movement provided a comforting solace during your emotional moment.
As he lovingly attended to your tears, you reached behind your back and unclasped your bra. He paused, eyes widening in surprise. However, before any words could escape, you leaned in and kissed him. In that single gesture, you conveyed your desires, and he, in turn, found his answer within the depths of that passionate kiss.
As soon as his palms glided over your smooth skin, delicately capturing your erect nipple between his fingers, the bra was tossed somewhere amidst the bedding.
"Lie back," Satoru instructed. He then crawled onto you, your bare chests meeting. He supported himself with his arms on either side of your head to ensure he didn't crush you under his weight.
He positioned himself atop you, overwhelmed by the yearning that had built up in your absence. The thirst to have you beneath him had grown insurmountable. He had craved the sight of your body begging him to take you, the undeniable desire radiating from you.
He locked eyes with you, keeping you in his gaze as he absorbed every aspect of your beauty. The polished planes of your face shimmered with fresh tears, adding a new layer to the bliss. Your eyes were rimmed with redness, solely for him, and this sight rendered him speechless.
Because what if he accidentally stumbled upon the wrong words, and the magic vanished, snatching you away once more, leaving him with nothing but a pumpkin carriage and a single pair of shoes?
He didn't want his arms to be deprived of your warmth. Your touch. Your lips. God, your lips. Your mouth on his neck. Your body wrapped around his. He couldn't bear losing you again, and the realization was like a pendulum the size of the moon. It wouldn't stop slamming into him.
Blinking his white lashes, he swallowed back the fear building in his throat.
What an irony!
The strongest wasn't fearless.
With his knee between your thighs and his body pressing closer, he realized he was paying attention to nothing but the dandelions blowing wishes in his lungs.
"When we were together, I became you," he stated. "You became the reflection I saw in the mirror, and I liked it more. So, I stopped being myself. It was fine because I had you. But when you left, I lost myself along with you."
"Satoru," you called, your voice soft, so soft. He wasn't unfamiliar with the touch of women, but yours were gentler, yet deadlier than them all. "I'm sorry for bringing us to this point." You drew his form closer. The resonating beats of your heart were audible, pulsing deeply within your chest. "Will you ever forgive me?"
Your words unleashed a tumult of feelings within him. Goddammit. He wasn't lost before he met you, but he found himself after having you, only to get lost more after losing you.
Satoru's tears stung as they fell backward down his throat, burning as they went. "Kiss me, and I'll forget everything," he uttered.
And you complied. You kissed him as if swimming through rivers of honey, as if being dipped in pure gold, like diving into an ocean of bliss, and he didn't realize you two were drowning because he was too caught up in the current to notice. Nothing held significance anymore—neither rules, nor the room, nor even the entire fucking Jujutsu society.
All that mattered was this.
This.
This very moment. These lips. This delicate body pressed against his, and these warm hands always discovering new ways to hold his heart.
Oh, My!
He wanted so much more of you. He wanted every part of you. And he kissed you back. Like a mild breeze. Like cherry blossoms. Like a blue spring.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Satoru drew away. It remained a secret, but piecing himself back together hurt just as much as falling apart. It felt like an ache that needed to be soothed.
You were the cure, so his finger lightly grazed the corner of your mouth, tracing its shape, curves, and subtle crevices. As he kissed the corner of your eyebrow, he whispered your name. His lips brushed over the shell of your ear, causing a slight squirm in your body. He planted a kiss on your neck, just beneath your earlobe, and you tilted your head, inviting him in. Perhaps you resisted the urge to plead for more, for a faster pace.
You used to love this, remember?
His lips moved down the expanse of your neck, delicately tracing the sensitive skin of your collarbones. Not content to be passive, your hands ran down his back, roaming over his broad shoulders, pressing into his back dimples, and clutching his hips. With a handful of his hair, you pulled him closer, leaving small kisses on his neck, arms, and chest.
It was incredible. Being with you, touching you, having you like this. The adrenaline rush was so powerful and euphoric that it made everything feel within reach.
He muttered your name, his lips mouthing the letters, barely speaking.
He pressed his lips against your upper lip.
He ran his tongue along your lower lip.
He planted kisses beneath your chin, on the tip of your nose, along your forehead, temples, and cheeks across your jawline. Then he moved to your neck, behind your ears, and the space between your breasts. Delicately, he nibbled on your sensitive nipples, leaving a trail of kisses all the way down to your belly button until his entire form moved down your figure, disappearing as he shifted downward, and suddenly, his chest was hovering above your hips.
As his lips descended towards the hem of your underwear, he lifted his head right before crossing that boundary, locking eyes with you. His gaze carried a mix of intense reverence and a silent question.
You met his gaze, the unspoken understanding passing between you. Your nod conveyed an affirmation, a wordless permission to continue. With your approval, he lowered his head once again. Before you knew it, he skillfully used his teeth to remove that small piece of fabric while the captivating scent drove him wild with desire.
Having removed your panties, his lips continued exploring, leaving heated kisses and lingering caresses from your toes to your thighs. Firmly holding your calves, he parted your legs, creating just enough space for his head to fit between them.
Your thighs were lifted, obscuring him from your sight. All you could see was the top of his head, the curve of his shoulders, and the unsteady rise and fall of his back as he breathed. Eventually, even that view vanished as his lips closed around your clit, causing your head to fall back and muffled moans to escape your lips.
Satoru's large hands trailed down and up your exposed upper thighs and ribs, tightly gripping your hips to keep you in place. He delighted in how you squirmed each time his hair brushed against your groin, until his tongue slipped into your hole, and the taste of you made fireworks explode in the back of his head.
With his right hand pressed against your stomach, his tongue danced and teased, evoking ecstatic cries from your lips. His mouth explored the known territories you had never witnessed, yet he remembered them intimately.
While fully engrossed in eating you, he suddenly and intentionally slipped his middle finger inside, and his mouth fervently sought to suck the soul out of your essence as if seeking retribution for all the times he had jerked off thinking about you creaming around his shaft. That's why he left you on the precipice of climax, working his way up your body. Satoru was never cruel enough to deny you the release you craved, so his fingers remained ready.
With an eagerness to witness the pleasure etched across your face, he slowly ascended your body, his touch kindling a burning anticipation within you. Continuing his exploration, his adept fingers navigated their way to your most intimate region, gently pressing against the delicate entrance.
"Let me know if it hurts, alright?" he whispered, his nose caressing the skin of your stomach, placing sporadic kisses around your breasts and collarbones to alleviate any tension. His disheveled hair and moist lips were evidence of the indulgence in your sweet taste.
"Take it easy— ahhh!"
He wore a satisfied smile as two of his large fingers effortlessly slid into your slit. Your nails dug into the sheets, whimpers escaping your lips as his hand rhythmically moved up and down within your tight walls.
Your mouth opened in a soundless moan, and he peppered you with kisses all around. Tears glistened in your eyes, and tiny strands of hair clung to your sweaty forehead. When his thumb rubbed, and the fingers hit all the right spots, your throat wailed in frustration.
You firmly grasped his free arm and tugged him towards you, bringing him closer until he was on top of you. You might have turned into a cold-blooded curse user, left dead bodies behind, or broken his heart apart, but you were still the same girl beneath him. The girl who would laugh with joy and steal his treats. The girl who would fiercely fight by his side and protect him. The girl who would easily surrender and moan in his ear.
He pressed his lips against yours, a reminder of the residual sweetness on his tongue. Just like in the old days, a soft moan escaped your lips as soon as you felt your own taste. If this gesture could convince you to stay with him, why not revel in it? He willingly opened his lips, inviting you to delve deeper, your tongues intertwining and brushing against his teeth.
The stinging bitterness of the past was long gone. He had forgotten everything. Although there was something he knew he shouldn't forget, he couldn't recall why or what it was. With his hard length suffering in his boxers and his digits thrusting backward and forward, paying attention to anything else was hard.
Seeing your desperation for his touch proved to be his downfall. He could die from this, he decided. From wanting you, from the pleasure of being with you.
He wore a smile as you locked eyes and reciprocated with your smile. He pressed his forehead against yours, his skin flushed with heat. With his other hand, he held your head steady while your hands clutched his neck, your palms gliding over the area just above his neckline, and your fingertips tenaciously pressing against his undercut.
"Sato..." you managed to utter, your voice quivering with pleasure as the orgasm washed over you, consuming your senses. Waves of euphoria rippled across your body, inducing uncontrollable tremors. Amidst your release, a single tear broke free, tracing a glistening path down your cheek, much like the cascade of emotions that flowed within you.
While he remained atop you, his voice reached your ears, his lips near your earlobe. "Can you sit up?" he whispered, burying his face in the curve of your neck, allowing your ragged breaths to brush against his shoulder.
Still struggling to catch your breath, you managed to mumble, "Yeah, but..." However, before you could complete your sentence, the bedding beneath you shifted as Satoru pulled you into his arms, clutching you tight.
He exhaled and looked at you, but this time, there were stories in his eyes, thoughts, whispers, and feelings of things he had never told you. He looked like he was hanging on his sanity by a fraying thread—you.
He touched your flushed cheeks as if uncertain of your tangible presence. His four fingers caressed the side of your face with tenderness before sliding behind your neck, caught in that in-between spot below your ear, and his thumb brushed the apple of your cheek, then grazing your bottom lip.
He pondered the countless things your lips had done. They had touched, kissed, and pressed against sensitive areas of his skin. They had spoken lies and made promises, and the words they had formed, the shapes and sounds they had shaped, he yearned for them all.
Satoru inched closer, cradling you like you were made of precious crystals. Holding you and looking at his own hands as if he couldn't believe you were real and truly there.
"I'm right here, baby. Look at me," you whispered, grasping his hands and kissing them.
All six of his eyes obeyed and stared at you. Gone was the curse user targeting Higher Ups. This woman before him had never done anything wrong. You were perfect and kind, untouched by the horrors of death.
He took hold of your hands and pressed your palms against his face, reclaiming the tears you had bestowed upon him. With an eternity of love, he whispered your name in the softest of whispers.
What if this was a dream?
No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.
He shook, shuddered, splintered into teardrops, and you embraced him like no one had before. Overwhelmed by the intensity, he struggled to contain himself, but seeing you cling to him as you might never let go stirred something within him. It was a heady sensation, knowing that you were there, caring for him, desiring him, needing him in this way. It made him believe that this was indeed real.
Gently, you stroked his silvery locks of hair and placed a kiss on his forehead. Gradually, your arms became the arms around his neck; your lips became the lips pressed against his, your body the warmth he felt. Funny how the moment he felt your touch, it burned a hole right through his head and pulled all his thoughts out.
He wasn't even breathing, but he was alive, and he was kissing you. Deeply, desperately. His hands fervently caressed the small of your back as he lifted you onto his lap, and instinctively, your legs wrapped around his hips.
Then, it was your turn to reciprocate. You planted kisses all over him—his cheeks, eyelids, chin, the tip of his nose, and the space between his eyebrows. You trailed along his forehead and traced his jawline, covering every inch of his face. These kisses conveyed more than words ever could.
And you took your time.
As your mouth moved down his neck, he let out a gasp. It was a moment to relish. Your tongue continued to worship the hills and valleys of his well-defined arms, tracing the graceful curves of his collarbones. Inhaling the intoxicating scent of his skin, you savored his taste. Your hands explored his abs, tracing along his navel and the delicate trails of hair beneath.
He broke apart with your small licks here and there, breathing hard, and stared at you dumbfounded. His mind remained hazy, unable to fully comprehend how your fingers toyed with the waistband of his boxer briefs.
Tilting your head to a side, you pressed your lips against his again, seeking him with a burning need, a new kind of desperation. Your other hand threaded in his hair, your lips so soft, so urgent against his, like fire and cinnamon exploding in his mouth.
Satoru nibbled your bottom lip in a flash before pulling back slightly. You were flooding his body with so much heat and desire. You parted your lips to sigh in his mouth, and that slight sound of pleasure drove him to the edge of madness.
Just as he was about to bring his mouth to your nipples, your hand suddenly slipped into his underwear and encircled his erectness pressing against your groin.
Oh.
Well.
He clenched his teeth, suppressing a groan. Oh God! He had fucking missed you holding his member in your palm. But you didn't stop at that. He gasped as you began to rub the tip with your thumb. His body ached everywhere as he tasted the colors and sounds that existed nowhere else. Your forehead rested against his chin as you continued to stroke his hardness up and down beneath his boxers. You were untamed, cruel, yet remarkably gentle.
"Take it off, Satoru," you whispered in his ear, your breath ragged. "I want you in me. Deep. Right. Now. Please."
He was beyond the reach of rational thoughts. Beyond words, beyond comprehension. The world was beyond understanding because nothing could ever compare with this. Nothing could ever capture the way he was feeling right now. He was left with only this very moment: You on his lap, your warmth against his hands, and your lustful eyes fixed upon him, making him absolutely insane.
Satoru held onto your waist with a firm grip, lifting you slightly, and in the blink of an eye, his briefs glided down his long legs until their whereabouts became irrelevant in the heat of the moment.
The wetness between your thighs was no longer a hidden secret, just as his hardness was revealed when you surrounded each other everywhere.
He watched as you reached down and guided his erection against your slippery entrance, making a few strokes to ensure the perfect alignment. His racing pulse could probably be felt in your palm and soon inside you.
Using both hands, he gripped your hips and pulled you downward, drawing you closer to him. A gasp escaped your lips as he entered you, always surprised about his size. He intended to allow you time to adjust, but you fervently clung to his neck, hitching your legs around his waist, urging him to penetrate you completely. A scream escaped your lips as you bit into his shoulder blade, but he remained composed, relishing the sensation of stretching you. He cherished the feeling of your inner walls squeezing him and the weight of your body against his balls. To be honest, he would stay like this forever.
Feeling your readiness, his hold tightened, and he started moving your body up and down. You cried out as you nestled your cheek into the curve of his neck, and he felt like dying and somehow being brought back to life in the exact moment, in the same breath.
Fuck! You were full of him.
He raised your thighs, stifling a groan that threatened to rip his throat as your lips met his. It left him bewildered, pondering why he hadn't perished, burst into flames, or snapped in half.
The room was consumed by silence, punctuated only by the sound of your heavy breaths. Your chests pressed against each other, colliding with the rhythm of your pulses.
As he sensed your arms tightening around him, he reciprocated with heightened strength, lifting and thrusting you with an intensity that transcended the bounds of restraint. Each movement struck the place he knew too well.
His teeth captured your bottom lip, eliciting a momentary jolt of pleasure. Your nails pressed into his shoulder as his fingers ran through your hair, pulling you nearer, immersing you in the fervent abyss of his mouth. The taste of you was a captivating fusion of sweetness and passion, an intoxicating blend that left both of you craving for more.
He kept trying to say your name, but he found himself unable even to catch his breath, let alone speak a single word.
The pace increased slightly; each thrust was hard, deliberate, wringing gasps, whimpers, and long, rolling moans from you.
Your eyes tingled with tears, falling fast down and traveling quietly down your cheeks. He cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs two parentheses in your mouth, touching your tongue and the saliva within. It was as if he had discovered an oasis in the vast expanse of a desert, gazing at you with eyes ablaze like fire reflected in water.
"I love you," he whispered over and over, his voice fragile and uneven. His lips covered yours in a tender kiss. He kissed you and tasted your tears, the lasting essence of pleasure in your mouth. He kissed you and kissed you until time toppled over, and your heads spun into a blissful oblivion.
Your head rested against his, and as you delicately nipped at his earlobe, he felt stripped down to his very core, just as he had unraveled you from within. Your sweet little tongue was frantic when you whispered, "I'm yours to love."
Something inside him melted. Hearing your words, he held still for moments, sucking in the air because he felt almost dizzy with satisfaction, running his hands over your thighs.
You. You belonged to him. You didn't erase the pain you had caused. You didn't fix everything you'd broken, but that wasn't what he needed anyway. All he needed was you, and with you, everything would be alright.
He firmly grasped your buttocks, burying his face against your shoulder as he sped up. He was shattered to pieces, but with you, he got put back together differently, better, and more himself than he ever could have been. Gritting his teeth, he succumbed to the impending climax. His hands glided along your back as you shuddered, your inner walls pulsating around him so hard that he couldn't hold back his release. With a growl, he thrust wildly, once, twice, until everything around you both turned to a world of vibrant colors and radiant light, where the sun shone, oceans sparkled, and Sakura trees bloomed.
*
Both of you were lying on a pillow, breathless and sweaty. Satoru's face was buried in the crook of your neck.
Your hand had delicately weaved its way into his hair, fingers stroking the silky strands as you both sought to ground yourself in the aftermath of your orgasms.
You rested your cheek against his head, your voice carrying a hint of breathlessness as you began to speak. "How is Shoko doing?
"She's probably smoking even more now," he murmured, his lips grazing against your shoulder as he pulled you closer. Despite the physical closeness, a deep ache echoed within him, yearning for an even deeper connection that felt just beyond his grasp. The desire to merge both body and soul, to be completely intertwined with you, was tangible in his touch.
His arms tightened around you as if attempting to bridge an unseen gap that couldn't be seen, but he could feel it. Each hug and touch was an attempt to mend the distance that pained him. The depth of his need reverberated through his being. It was visible in the depths of his eyes. It sucked to be this close yet feel so far from someone. But he didn't want to worry. As long as you were together, he believed nothing terrible could happen.
"Why probably so?" you asked, your curiosity piqued as you turned your head towards him. Your lips touched his soft, silky white hair. "Is it because of the numerous missions you're taking?"
"You seem to know every detail of my life," he remarked, turning his head towards you, the closeness so intimate that your noses nearly touched. His hand found its way to your arm, his finger tracing a path down its length, lost in contemplation.
"I've always kept tabs on you. I'm not even ashamed of it," you declared, your attention fixed on his ocean-blue eyes.
He let out a shaky sigh. "There's no longer a reason for me to stay in Tokyo like I used to," he whispered, his voice hinting at wistfulness. The words floated in the air, pregnant with unspoken meanings. As he locked eyes with you, his gaze transformed into a sea of emotions, reflecting a profound depth of feelings that transcended mere words.
"What about your students?"
"They're doing well even without me," Satoru said, his voice filled with fondness and melancholy. As his hand gracefully slid into your hair, he tucked back the strands that obscured your face, revealing the beauty of your features.
His thumb stroked your cheek in a soothing gesture. "Megumi came close to expanding his domain," Satoru continued, his voice filled with a hint of excitement. "Yuji would be thrilled to—"
"No, Satoru!" you interjected, your voice resolute. Your firm interruption halted his sentence as your face displayed a frown, your eyebrows furrowing with determination. "The answer is no!"
Satoru's hand dropped weakly onto the sheets, his fingers losing their previous touch. When his gaze met yours, a deep sadness flooded his eyes, turning the serene ocean within them into a turbulent storm.
He struggled to find the right words to make his case but couldn't resist trying to reason with you. "Come back with me. I have enough power and privilege to protect you—"
"I don't want your protection!" you exclaimed, your voice carrying a sharp edge that cut through his being. The words resounded with a harshness reminiscent of the day you decided to leave, which had left an indelible mark on both of you. It was a day that Satoru had always blamed himself for, haunted by the belief that he had failed to notice you drifting away.
His eyes, filled with sorrow, locked onto yours, silently begging for understanding as he summoned the bravery to express his deepest desires. "Don't you want a life with me?" he questioned, his voice brimming with the dreams and aspirations he had envisioned for both of you. "What about living in a house with blue shutters, windows overlooking the ocean, and—"
"How are you still such a wide-eyed, dreamy little boy, Satoru?" you remarked, your voice tinged with tenderness and sadness. As you spoke, your hand extended, interlocking your fingers with his. "Stop living in a fantasy world," you urged. The words pleaded for him to accept reality and let go of dreams no longer aligned with his chosen path. "Even if I had the chance to go back, I wouldn't want to," you continued. "The Jujutsu society is a broken bone that won't set right, and no matter how much you try to mend it, it won't work. I started hunting Higher Ups because I have a purpose. I can't be by your side."
As you raised your head, a glimmer of compassion and understanding shimmered in your eyes. The pain etched on Satoru's face was evident to you. In a gentle tone, you encouraged him, saying, "We've made different choices. Don't judge me because I never questioned why you didn't follow me. Our approaches may differ, but we share the same dream of creating a better world. So, I don't regret leaving, but if there's anything I regret, it's not cherishing every moment I had with you. But I'm doing it right this time. I'm memorizing every detail, so I have something to hold onto."
Your words bounced around in the fog of his head, blurring his senses, misting his eyes, and muddling his logic. In his bones, there was just ice. His entire being wanted to vomit. Reality slapped him in the face, punched him in the jaw, and dumped him into the ocean.
Until today, he thought he had fully come to terms with everything. He believed he had adapted to living with your absence, like a disabled person learning to avoid putting weight on his injured leg. However, deep down, he knew he was living on eggshells, always wondering when something would break, when everything would crumble.
But with your answer, stacks of sorrow grew inside him, settling on his bones as if a cable had twisted around his neck, a worm crawling across his stomach. It was the night, midnight, and the twilight of indecision. Too many pains to bear.
He realized how foolish he had been to believe he could simply blend in and lead an ordinary life.
Satoru.
Satoru Gojo.
Satoru Gojo, The Strongest.
The mere thought of it filled him with mortification.
He shook his head, coughing as his lungs were tormented, heaving strange, horrible gasps until his whole body spasmed into submission. His head was spinning, thoughts knocking into one another. With clenched fists, he fought against the misery, forcing it back down. Not again. Not again. Not again.
"Satoru?" you called out to him, and a thousand pieces of feeling stabbed you in the heart. Realizing how deeply he loved you kept hitting him in the face, the skull, and the spine. He ran a hand across his face and through his hair, displaying signs of wanting to scream, to break something, as if he was on the verge of losing his sanity.
You hugged him, bridging the gap between your bodies and leaning your cheek against his rock-hard chest. Your hands caressed his stomach as your lips left random pecks here and there.
"It's not just your shirt that I have," you expressed. "I also have our shared blanket from our room and a collection of photographs I'm too afraid to look at. I fear that if I see them, I'll go right back to you and beg your forgiveness."
You dropped a kiss on his chin. Then, on the curve of his shoulder and his shoulder blades. Five kisses down his throat, each softer than the last. You kissed his cheeks, hands, and eyelids for every moment of loneliness he had ever endured.
You continued, "My body hasn't realized we are no longer together. It calls out for you at night, unaccustomed to not having you tightly enveloping me like a second layer of skin."
He closed his eyes and breathed heavily, trying to gain control of himself. "Why are you putting me through this?" he asked, his hand caught in his hair. "Why are you scratching my wounds?"
"Because I want to remake you again, Satoru. You should get broken apart and rebuild in a way that won't cause you pain anymore." You kissed the hand covering his mouth, not holding back. Keeping your head there, you leaned against his heart.
"It's not as straightforward as a simple yes or no," you said, your voice cracking as you spoke. "Let's just enjoy this moment together..."
A sudden searing heat flashed behind his eyes, and his heart leaped at your response. His hand trembled, and his eyes were willing and wanting but filled with sadness.
He shifted his gaze towards you, his eyes open, jaw clenched tightly, and muscles tense. Breathing heavily, he wasn't sure what to do with himself. The ache in his chest had grown more assertive, more painful.
You lifted your head and reached up to stroke his cheek. "Love is the most twisted curse," you murmured as you tilted his chin toward your mouth. He blinked rapidly. Words were whispered upon his lips that no one had ever spelled out for him. "And we are the most cursed of all, aren't we?" you told him, watching the movement in his throat and his effort to keep it together. It didn't take you long to kiss him again. Tenderly.
Unable to find the right words, he relied on the language of touch, pressing his lips against yours. A sigh escaped into your shared kiss, and you responded by kissing him even more passionately, almost desperately, as if trying to pass over your breaths to him. The taste of salt lingered on your tongues. The wet drops falling on your cheeks made his flesh burn. Unsure of whose tears they were, he continued to cling to you, even if it was almost for the final time.
The saddest world in this whole wide world was "almost." You almost came back to him. He almost had you. You two almost made it.
*
You woke up with a smile, feeling a pleasant warmth enveloping your skin, remnants of the memories from the previous night. The room was filled with a fresh ambiance, hinted at by the open window that welcomed a gentle breeze. The scent of damp earth filled the air, evidence of the rain that had visited during the night.
Letting out a sigh, you brushed your face against the pillow. Your hand instinctively reached out to where Satoru was supposed to be, but a pang of emptiness washed over you. He wasn't there, and your eyes flew open, a sourness clouding their once-serene gaze. Something felt wrong.
Suddenly, sitting up, a sense of panic pulsed through your veins. The realization dawned upon you—Satoru had left the bed, and his absence spoke volumes. Your glance darted around the room, searching for any signs of his presence, but his clothes were nowhere to be seen.
An agonizing grip took hold of your heart. Conflicting emotions wrestled inside you. You had voiced your decision to part ways, to not be by his side, yet the depth of your desire for him remained steadfast. The pain and the desperate desire for his warmth was a stark reminder that not wanting to be with him didn't mean you were prepared to let go of him completely.
The bitter yet undeniable truth surfaced: as much as you and Satoru were meant to be, fate had not deemed you to last.
You could still feel the lasting presence of Satoru's cursed energy, an invisible thread you could identify even blind. Simply by scent, you would recognize it. It was a power that transcends physical senses, one that would recognize it in death, at the end of the world.
You swiftly snatched your robe and hastened out of the room. And there he was, Satoru, fully dressed, his blindfold tightly secured, sitting still in a chair, facing the untouched mochis. The hair tie was also on the table, indicating that he had removed it from his wrist. You couldn't determine whether it hurt you deeply to see him letting go of a part of you or noticing that he had left his beloved treats untouched.
He wasn't looking at you, so you had time to observe things you hadn't noticed yesterday. He had visibly lost weight. His hair showed signs of splitting and thinning, probably due to stress. Nightmares didn't let him sleep. His uniform appeared wrinkled, and his breaths were unsteady. You knew it wasn't your place to worry about him anymore, but you couldn't help it. Taking care of him had become a habit. He appeared weary, displaying the same profound exhaustion you experienced, filling you with fear.
His shoulders quivered up and down, and you could tell he was crying even though he was silent as a corpse. Your heart quickened as you approached him. With trembling hands, you reached for his blindfold, a desperate attempt because, goddammit, you fucking loved his eyes.
"What are you—" you started to inquire, your voice fading as you recognized that your touch couldn't reach him. He had activated his Infinity. Manually. Deliberately. A wave of profound sadness washed over you, tears welling up in your eyes, yet you swallowed them back, resolved to keep your composure. Your hand hung suspended, mere inches away from him, a symbol of the unbridgeable gap that had grown between you.
Then, in a sudden movement, Satoru stood before you, donning a black jacket that draped his figure. His voice emerged raspy, filled with a raw intensity that conveyed the turmoil within his heart.
"I can't handle this anymore. I can't continue being whatever I am to you," he admitted, his words heavy with a sense of resignation. The understanding that the current situation was no longer viable had taken hold of him. "If you want things to remain this way, I can't ignore the fact that we are enemies at the end of the day." He subtly avoided meeting your gaze, averting his eyes from your messy hair and the persistent sadness in your eyes.
"Can you honestly believe that?" you questioned, your voice brimming with incredulity. You took a step forward, narrowing the physical gap between you. It was essential for him to grasp the magnitude of your anguish and directly witness the toll your choice inflicted upon your heart.
Satoru took a step back, his brows furrowing beneath the blindfold that veiled his eyes. "It doesn't matter what I believe," he declared.
Despite the barrier that prevented physical touch, you closed your eyes, driven by the overwhelming desire to bridge the divide. Ignoring the protective shield of his Infinity, you leaned in, your lips seeking his in a desperate act of defiance. Tears streamed down your closed eyes as he relinquished the barrier that kept you apart. You pressed your lush mouth against his. It never took him long to respond, to part his lips. He kissed you back, holding your head steady with his hand while his other embraced you tightly. He had your heart, and you loved him quite horribly, too. This fact always smacked you over the head so hard you felt dizzy.
You held each other tightly, his arms enveloping you as his fingers intertwined with your hair. In that stolen moment, you caught a glimpse of the life you longed for—a life filled with love. Having this every day was within reach, but the harsh reality of the jujutsu world loomed, casting a shadow over your fragile dreams. The awareness that he would be exploited until his final breath burdened you deeply. Unable to witness his suffering, you knew you couldn't change your decisions. You had to reset this Jujutsu World. For him. For his students. For the happiness you owed yourself.
As your lips reluctantly separated, a bittersweet trace of saliva remained between you. Satoru gripped your shoulders, and as you glanced up, you noticed his blindfold was damp, indicating the tears he had shed.
You lowered your head. "I wish you had never crossed paths with me," you murmured, keeping your gaze fixed on the ground until he reached out and lifted your chin.
"I wouldn't take that chance. Not in a million infinities. Because there was love, even if it didn't change anything, even if it made the pain worse, love was there," he said, staring at your mouth. "I'll love you in this life. I'll love you in death and in whatever lies after. And likely even beyond that," he whispered. The words did something to you. They burned something inside of you. You swallowed hard. A fire consumed your mind. "No matter what, I'll always love you," he declared, and pain filled your veins. You could feel it in your blood.
"Satoru," you whispered. Your eyes fogged up, but you blinked rapidly, trying to clear the tears away. You couldn't let a second of this be blurry. You couldn't afford to allow any of this to slip away. His absence felt like a missing limb, and his longing for you was a bullet in the head. How could he still love you? How could he find relief in your touch?
"But if we meet again," he said, his thumb brushing against your earlobe. "Just kill me. Because I'll be forced to kill you, and it's the same thing." As if the longer he held you, the more he would want you, he let go of you.
The enormity of his duty and the unyielding constraints of the jujutsu world, forcing him to make an unbearable choice, hit you like a cold gust of wind, leaving you feeling isolated and abandoned. The chill of that moment seeped into your bones, and you couldn't help but wonder if he had felt this same frigid loneliness when you had left him behind.
Satoru walked towards the door, each step carrying the finality of his decision that settled upon the room. Pausing at the threshold, a silent plea lingered in his words. "So, please, I beg you to stay away from me." With those words, he severed the last thread that had linked you, leaving you with a deep sense of loss.
The door closed behind him, leaving you in an empty and heavy space with unspoken regret. You were alone again, bereft without him, half dead without him. You opened your mouth and screamed. You screamed and screamed until your voice cracked beneath the pressure. Until you feared your throat would shred from the force. You wanted to crawl outside of your body so desperately so that you could escape this feeling.
No one ever warned you how men with such pretty eyes, who smelled like vanilla, tasted like rain, and talked like silver, were the reason behind tear-soaked pillows, half-finished poems, and so many sad dreams.
One last shout ripped out of your throat, this one so full of pain that brought you to your knees. You crumbled. The raw sound tapered off, fading into a hoarse, staccato cry. You sucked in a deep breath, filling your lungs with oxygen you didn't want, but you were too lost in your grief to scream like you wanted to.
It seemed like Satoru Gojo's story had peaked, and anything that followed wouldn't hold the same significance to him. Because for him, there was before you, and there was during you. For some reason, he never thought there would be an after you. But there was, and he was in it. He would be in it forever.
Moving forward, he silently implored his bones to remain firm, to support him for the remainder of the day and beyond. He ventured through the forest, his steps disturbing the mud and leaves as his footprints gradually faded away until there was nothing but the empty silence of a long, lonely dusk.
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Tag list: @istanuwow @anime-lover1234 @rentaldarling @enchantedforest-network
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 Disclaimers:
This creation draws significant inspiration from the incredible artistry of @animaybi (TikTok) and features quotes from the captivating writings of @starlightonthewaves (TikTok). Both of these talented artists deserve immense praise for their remarkable contributions.
Art is created by me.
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Are you cursing me for writing this? :D
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spacecowboyhotch · 1 month
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about this: nathan bateman x f!reader. contents: 18+/nsfw/minors dni, smut, wife kink, oral f!receiving, unprotected sex, nathan the asshole simp™️. wc: 1031. an: my brain plagued me with this thought at like 12 am. here it is.
oscar issac characters masterlist
This is not how you anticipated your time in the garden would pan out. The sun hangs high in the sky, a soft breeze swirling in the air. You’d been halfway done with your task of weeding and watering the garden when Nathan sauntered down the steps of the front porch.
“Can I help you?” You ask, glancing over at him.
He holds up his hands, rounding his eyes with innocence. “Can’t a man ogle his wife?”
You should’ve known then and there that he was up to no good. Slowly but surely, Nathan gets closer and closer. With each step your blood rises, your heart thumping steadily in your ears. Until his lips are ghosting your temple, beard tickling at your skin.
Now, despite that cooling breeze, you are warm. There’s pure, overwhelming heat coupled with sparking pleasure. You’re surrounded by it, drowning in it and there’s no place you would rather be.
“Nathan,” You breathe, the sound of your voice feeling miles away.
You hear a deep hum, the scratch of his beard against your thighs, and then an inhaling breath. When you sit up on your elbows to gaze down at him, Nathan’s dark brown eyes glitter back at you. His mouth and beard shine with your slick as his lips curl into a smirk.
He wags his eyebrows, voice so soft and sweet as he asks, “What is it, honey?”
“I was doing something,” You huff, still out of breath though his work has stopped momentarily.
It’s not lost on you how this would look from another point of view. Your panties in a heap in the grass, sundress bunched around your breasts. Nathan rutting into the ground as he sips from between your legs like it’s the fountain of life. There are tools and weeds spread about, dirt smeared on skin and clothing alike. You two are the definition of a dirty, horny mess.
Nathan’s smile widens into something as beautiful as it is arousing, sending a shiver up your spine. “And now, you’re doing me. Lay back, I’m making my wife cum.”
You don’t have the discipline to object, not that you want to. Nathan had brought you to the precipice of your peak just to tease you down more than once, and now you’re wound tight, ready for release.
Nathan slides into you with practiced ease, bending to capture your mouth with his own, moans melting into each other’s. His hips move against yours, gently but relentlessly, withdrawing completely before pressing in as far as your body will take him.
You let your legs fall open wider, clutching at his shoulders to stay as steady and still as possible, wanting it just like this, just how he’s giving it to you. He dusts kisses on any part of you he can reach as he continues to fuck you— your cheeks, jaw, neck, coveting every inch of you.
“That’s it, baby, let me fuck you. Let me make you feel good like I’m s’pose to. That’s what I’m for, hmm? To make my wife cum. Give her whatever she wants.”
“Nathan, please. I need you, need more,” You beg softly.
He gets two of his fingers wet, snaking them between you so that he can rub softly at your clit. “I need you too, honey. C’mon, I know you can cum for me. Can’t you?”
“Yes. Mhmm, I can,” You nod, eyes wild with lust when you gaze up at him.
“Your pussy’s so fucking good, baby. Perfect fucking wife with the perfect little pussy. Gonna make me fill you up,” He groans, his voice growing more hoarse as he slowly unravels.
His cock, his praise, his filth— they wind you tight, tight, tight, until you cum, clenching around his cock as you call out his name. Nathan lets out a breath gasp and then he’s filling you to the brim, whispering into your ear how much he loves you.
He kisses you until you’re both breathless and only then does he pull out to clean you both up. Nathan helps you into your panties and smooths your sundress back into place before refastening his jeans and snaking an arm around your waist. The two of you lay in content silence besides the occasional chirp of a bird and your mingling breath.
Suddenly he asks, “Do you wanna get married?”
You nearly choke on your laughter, turning your head to look over at him, “We are married, you made it very clear in the filth you were spewing at me.”
He ignores your teasing, his brows are drawn together so you know he’s serious. “Again. Do you want to get married again?”
“Nathan, that wedding was a fortune.”
“Who gives a fuck how much it costs,” He scoffs, pulling you more firmly onto his chest. “I don’t mean like that. I mean just me and you. The guy who guides the bullshit.”
“The bullshit, huh?”
“You know what I mean. What do you think?”
You frown, leaning back a little bit to look him in the eye. “I thought you liked our wedding.”
“Honey, I fucking loved our wedding,” He reassures you easily, smoothing a hand over your cheek.
“Then why again?”
“Why wouldn’t I want to marry you again?”
His answer completely floors you. Your heart melts. Soft and gooey, completely pliable and completely his. You’d ask him to marry you if he wasn’t already yours if he hadn’t already asked you for the second time. You can see that your speechlessness is starting to get in his head, and he opens his mouth to say something.
You quickly cut him off with a kiss, murmuring against his lips, “I love it when you get all sentimental.”
There is no denying the soft flush in his cheeks, “Hush.”
“Yes, Nathan, I’ll marry you again. Can we do it here?” You gesture around to the garden.
“Can I do you here?” He asks suggestively, that charming smirk gracing his face again.
“You already did.”
“Again,” He whispers into your ear before he starts to suck kisses into the skin of your neck.
“Again,” You breathe in agreement, blinking up at the blue sky once more.
nathan taglist: @missdictatorme, @runa-falls, @campingwiththecharmings, @toracainz, @steven-grants-world, @clemdango04, @jdbxws, @crispysublimecupcake, @sub-aro, @faretheeoscar, @cupidysm, @whentheskyispinkandabitblue, @nova-ivy541, @sparkypantelones, @veritable-trash, @mangoslushcrush, @thhriller, @tenderhornynihilist, @queerponcho, @redcake333
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