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shark0zu · 3 days

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Guitarist! Fushiguro Megumi x GN! reader

context: Megumi is part of a band named “Joint Jinx Keystone” (JJK) alongside Satoru, Suguru and Yuji. Suguru is 22, Satoru is 21, and both Megumi and Yuji are 19. It took you a while to get inside the heart of this boy, but you managed.

content: Semi-Emo and Shy Gumi (best Gumi). CUDDLES!

warning: none. an: This Band! AU is made by sketchyysummer on Instagram! (link to their Tumblr). I made Satoru, Suguru and Yuji’s already (link to it below). It's Megumi’s turn now, and after this one, I’ll work on my Sukuna one… maybe… I don't know yet though (probably not whoops). Sorry in advance if this one lacks or is TOO slow burny..

Idol! Gojo Satoru HC Drummer! Geto Suguru HC Bassist! Itadori Yuji HC w/c: 1.4k

art: Summer's Band! AU Character Design

likes and reblogs are appreciated!

Guitarist! Megumi, who wanted nothing to do with anything that related to love, relationships or trust for that matter. He didn’t see a reason to be in a relationship (outside of his band)- even more since he had the band to worry about.

Guitarist! Megumi, who meets you and immediately places you in the “friendzone” spot in his head. Not caring enough to put you anywhere else (for now). Kept to himself and didn’t bother with learning tiny details or anything under surface level about you. Guitarist! Megumi, who definitely was not expecting to see you everyday. You would visit him while he was practicing with his guitar. You would wait for him at cafes and even get to be friends with his friends (specially Yuji). Guitarist! Megumi, who now finds himself confused about his own feelings. He's never felt that way. Does he like someone? Do you like someone? Was that someone him? Is this just him trying to not feel lonely? He was confused, truly.

Guitarist! Megumi, who started to ask you to hang out with him instead of you appearing out of nowhere to see him. He definitely tries to play it off… “I need you to help me with some song ideas.” he tells you while looking away.

Guitarist! Megumi, who now is so obvious but no one says anything or brings it up. His friends wanting to know how far he can take his obliviousness. Mostly Satoru (and Yuji) bothering him about it in subtle ways.

Guitarist! Megumi, who definitely asks for advice on how to ask you out. He asked Satoru for help first and surprisingly, helps him. He does look up to Satoru a lot, so he took his advice. Satoru actually decided to help him, not making fun of him or bothering him while giving him advice (like a good father figure).

Guitarist! Megumi, who is grateful for Satoru, he always will be. He did help Megumi get better and find a good life playing in the band alongside him and the others. He does not show it but he is very grateful for the white-hair man’s help since they met.

Guitarist! Megumi, who gathers the courage to ask you out… it went… alright. It went great but he didn’t think so. He asked you to meet him in front of his apartment. You went- of course. He was pretty nervous, almost embarrassed. He saw you and smiled. He smiled. You almost stopped in your tracks from the shock of seeing his smile. Guitarist! Megumi, who finally speaks, “Hey, so…I’ve been confused with my feelings-” he was struggling to say the least. He sighs, “Alright. Do you want to go on a date with me?” Finally, he said it. This time, you smiled ear to ear. You were waiting so long for him to ask you out. He finally did it. You never asked him because you were not sure if he liked you back.

Guitarist! Megumi, who for you guys' first date, takes you to a restaurant close to the beach. Light breeze makes you shiver under the moonlight. After a few seconds you feel a leather jacket on your shoulders. You look back and see Megumi looking at you and his hands over your shoulders. The view was beautiful. You sit down to have dinner, chat and overall enjoy the time you were passing with him.

Guitarist! Megumi, who paid for dinner, refused to let you pay even half. He took you by the hand and left the restaurant. You both walked by the beach aimlessly until you found a little table with two chairs that was ‘conveniently’ just… there? He definitely planned this. You didn't bring it up, not wanting to embarrass him. Guitarist! Megumi, who was definitely smiling like a little boy when he saw you sitting on the chair staring at the horizon. He felt lost in your view. His mind went blank. When you felt his gaze on you, you turned your head and smiled at him. Safe to say he melted right there and then. Guitarist! Megumi, who couldn't be more happy to be there with you at that moment. After almost an hour of talking about various topics. He asks, “Do you… want to be my partner?” With that you were lost in his blue eyes. Trying to find the words took you a while but you were able to speak. “Of course, I would love to be your partner Gumi!” Uh-oh… nicknames already? Red. This man is so happy it hurts his face from smiling way more than he ever has. Guitarist! Megumi, who the next day saw his bandmates, was smiling like a little kid. Yuji was… scared. He has never seen Megumi so happy in his entire life. Nonetheless he asked Megumi what made him all happy. “I asked someone out yesterday…” he pauses to create some type of suspense. “And????” Yuji asks, almost desperate. “...and they said yes.” he said happily.

Guitarist! Megumi, who saw Yuji’s face turn from suspense to utter astonishment. By the looks of it, Satory and Suguru also overheard the conversation and the three men congratulated Megumi for his new relationship. They decided to commemorate this moment with dinner, which (of course) you were invited to. Guitarist! Megumi, who introduces you proudly as ‘his partner’. You smile and wave a ‘hello’ to his band mates. All three, Yuji, Suguru and Satoru were shocked Megumi was not lying (my poor boy, they never thought he would bag someone lol). They waved ‘hello’ back and welcomed you. Yuji hugged you, you hugged him back of course. Megumi didn't look so pleased but it was Yuji so he let it be.

Guitarist! Megumi, who after the dinner took you home, making sure you were safe. “Can I stay with you tonight…?” he softly asked. “Yeah, come in!” you said letting him in. You both took off your shoes at the door, hanging jackets on the hooks. “You wanna do something specific or…?” you asked, getting his attention. “You wanna watch a movie?” he said the first thing that came to mind. “Alright, what genre?” you said sitting on the couch in front of the TV and signaling him to sit beside you.

Guitarist! Megumi, who was definitely paying attention to the movie (he was, just not 100% of his attention). He sheepishly placed his arm over the headrest of the couch. You sat closer to him and placed your head on his chest while watching the movie. The movie was still going but you could feel his gaze on you, “Gumi?”, you catch him off guard. “Huh? Oh- sorry… was I staring too much?” he asks awkwardly. “No… just wanted to know if you were tired, cus I am.” a yawn escapes your mouth as soon as you finish that sentence.

Guitarist! Megumi, who nods and gets up from the couch, waiting for you to lead him to your room. You both arrive and you lend him some clothes that did not fit you anymore but thankfully fit him well. He changed in the bathroom, coming out when he was done to you already in bed under the covers. He slips under the covers, he does not know what to do. Still body, sleeping like a plank. You sigh and giggle, bringing him to your chest. Hugging him and snuggling closer.

Guitarist! Megumi, who freezes at the sudden contact but does not pull away, instead he wraps his arms around you and closes the distance even more. His head resting on your neck, light breathes tickling your soft skin. You can feel him smiling against you, which makes you smile in return. He starts some random conversation, so he could hear your voice. He ultimately ended up falling asleep to it.

Guitarist! Megumi, who after a whole year of being your partner, he still treats you the same (nothing was going to change). He takes you out on strolls, calls you to help him with his guitar, you guys go on dates- he loves you so much and you love him as much back. He wants to spend as much time as possible with you, and takes you everywhere. He does not show you off to people though, he likes his private life well- private.

Guitarist! Megumi, who definitely misses you when he goes out on tour. He will show he misses you by sending you voice messages, he is not really the type to call, he prefers to see your face in real life, not on a screen. Which you appreciate, even though you ask him to at least facetime once every blue moon.

#jujutsu kaisen #5sos #hc #geto suguru #gojo satoru #jjk x reader #anime #itadori x reader #megumi fushiguro #megumi x reader #fushiguro

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unseemingowl · 20 hours

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Saga Anderson, and Nordic rep in Alan Wake 2

Early on in Saga Anderson’s exploration in Alan Wake 2, she runs into Ilmo Koskela. Fiercely proud of his Finnish heritage, Ilmo gregariously makes note of Saga’s Nordic sounding name and the familiar design of her knitted sweater. Perhaps a fellow Finn?

Alas no, Saga’s mom is Swedish she informs him. Immediately Ilmo’s face falls. I’m not sure if it’s actually just the animated character defaulting to his resting face, but either way the timing is too perfect. Cue uproarious laughter from me. People in the Nordics are on friendly terms of course, but we gotta have the tiniest bit of… scornfor each other. All in good fun of course. It’s traditional.

Now, I’m Danish, not Finnish, but still, I feel right at home in the towns of Bright Falls and Watery in Alan Wake 2. All of the little nods to Nordic culture and mindset feel so wonderfully familiar to me. The melancholia, the irreverent sense of humor, the affection for the Finnish and Swedish quirks of the characters. The game feels all the stronger in tone and narrative for Remedy embracing the Finnish roots of the studio.

Which is exactly why it sucks that I almost immediately saw the charm of those narrative decisions weaponised against Saga.

I first watched the scene between Ilmo and Saga on a lets play when I was trying to figure out if I should finally dip my toes into survival horror and buy the game. Delighted by the writing I took a look into the comments to see if people were vibing as hard with it as I was. They were. But I also saw a comment that made me frown.

Paraphrasing, it basically went, come on, like hell a guy like Ilmo would make the assumption that a black woman is Finnish. There are a multitude of reasons why I think that person was wrong, mainly that Nordic people love it when we run into each other in other countries, but it also just made me sad.

Saga being black does not negate her Swedish heritage. Formally, she is American, sure (I assume, not sure how that works in the US), but she’s raised by her single Swedish mom, of course she’s going to identify heavily with that part of her herself. It’s a profound and essential part of who she is.

But hey, I’m a white potato Dane, so I’m not gonna argue that I know much about the experience of being biracial. I’m gonna stick to what I know, which is that Saga is a very moving and beautiful example of something that I’m actually not used to seeing much of - a story about connecting with your Nordic heritage and roots. And it’s part of why I love her so much.

When Nordic people show up in big, international productions, it’s usually as Vikings, and sure, it’s fun to see our wild ancestors, but contemporary questions of Nordic identity and heritage is not something I often see explored. Not even in our own productions.

So much of Saga’s story is about family. Fighting for her current one, Logan and Casey (and sure, David too, lol), and rediscovering her first one. Tor and Odin.

Her discovering her ties to Tor and Odin is profoundly moving and made me teary-eyed several times over. And sure, a lot of those ties are fantastical in nature, but they still feel very much grounded - and what makes us Nordic if not the ties to our myths and legends that Tor and Odin have made themselves the living avatars of.

While Saga’s mom, Freya, had good reasons for leaving the Anderson seer magics behind, seeing them as part of what made her family fucked up, she also cut Saga off from the fullness of her capabilities. It is only through Saga reforming her family, healing its scars and fully embracing the Anderson heritage that she becomes as powerful a parautilitarian as she is at the end of the game. That’s beautiful.

And in fact I think Saga being black only deepens the richness of those themes rather than negate them or make them irrelevant. Because yes, Saga’s story would have been moving if she was a white character too, but I am very well aware that a lot of biracial people of Nordic ancestry can feel alienated from that part of themselves. Not least because questions of who gets to claim a Nordic heritage can get pretty ugly around here. There are most definitely people who share the racist mindset of that commentator. It adds an extra dimension. Which is why seeing Tor and Odin’s eagerness to claim Saga as part of the Anderson heritage is all the more moving. Through her magics, she’s just so obviously an Anderson, and they’re so damn proud to call her theirs and fight alongside her. Because they all got that wild Viking blood in them. They’re part of her and she’s part of them.

Roger Ebert, the film critic once called movies empathy machines. I think games, when they’re at their best, can be an even more intense variation of that. Which is exactly why it baffles me that some people can play through Alan Wake 2 and still think Saga is a stunt-woke character rather than someone fully and beautifully integrated in the narrative. A narrative which, at its most basic level – in my opinion – is about the mystical bonds we form with each other and the rest of the world through art and love and blood and family and heritage. All the great horror doesn’t negate that either, it amplifies it. Kind of like that clicker.

#I really didn’t mean to write like… a fucking essay #so this is probably gonna flop #but I love Saga so much #and as a Scandinavian woman #I feel so seen by her #and I hate that people are being so vile about her character #Saga Anderson #Alan Wake 2

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indigo-art · 1 year

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[Please enter the current time.]

This is employee 432, or at least, what remains of him. He was put through tests and experimentation for inconceivable amounts of time. No one thinks at first that not being given something as simple as a pencil could cause someone to go insane... but eons and eons of not being given the ability to create... to log... to simply mark down the passage of days... for eons? Yes. That makes much more sense, doesn't it? It, perhaps, could drive someone to the point of becoming a being of pure creation... Whether it's true or not, Employee 432 or "Time Keeper" claims to be the true creator of what we know to be The Stanley Parable. The world, the office, Stanley, and even the Narrator himself. He is not simply the creator of the game... he is the game. The very fabric of it. A game that reflects the only life he remembers now. The Office. The tests. The Parable.

Yes, Narrator claims to be the true creator and controller of the game, but who made him? Who truly wrote the story he was tasked to narrate? Why is it that if you follow the story exactly as it's told, your ending is freedom? Wish Fulfillment.

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so-youre-ahrima · 2 years

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[03: life is looking up]

i can see it now: all the colors smear up and down the page - but the shapes are there i will build the lamps in this reverie, then they'll understand: this was meant for me

#art #act 1 #razia's shadow #forgive durden #ahrima #lamps #it took me a while to figure out a lamp design but i actually like what i came up with!#it was fun

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strawbs-arts · 9 months

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Hello! I don’t have much art to post yet other than these sketches (going through Art Block!! D:), so I compiled a huge lore post explaining my version of the Welcome Home Magical Girl AU! Yahoo 👍

Magical Girl AU:

Wally: paintbrush, art magic, artist/apple

Julie: yo-yo, plant magic, flowers (both)

Frank: net, butterfly magic, butterfly (both)

Poppy: shield, healing magic, chef/plus sign

Barnaby: hammer, elasticity, clown/heart

Eddie: scissors, paper magic, paper/spade

Sally: staff, weather magic, sun/stars

Howdy: bag, item conjure, clover

(order: weapon, magic, theme/brooch shape)

* Home is the mascot and the source of most of their magic, which is kept inside fancy shaped brooches that fit character’s themes. Their brooches allow them to transform into magical girls!

* They fight monstrous goop entities that have suddenly appeared from a mysterious place, while trying to live their day-to-day lives in their neighborhood! The setting is about the same with more fantasy magical girl aspects.

* Everyone gets the standard magical girl abilities (enhanced strength, jump ability, durability, senses) plus a signature power & weapon. They can change the size of their weapon as they wish.

Wally - Wally is the leader of Welcome Home’s Magical Girl team! He has the ability to manipulate art by controlling paint, crayons, ink, and graphite. Typically, he uses his trusty magic paintbrush, which has everlasting and color-changing paint on its bristles. He can make any drawing, whether his own or someone else’s, into come to life as he wills. He’s mainly in the backlines painting creatures and items to help his friends, or just painting appealing shapes on the ground!

In a last resort situation, Wally can summon an ocean of black paint that will gradually swallow and drain the life everything in its path, even himself. While using this magic, he will be in an unresponsive state that can only be stopped under certain circumstances [force, death, or Wally just has to force himself out of it]. Paint hands will also arise to protect Wally from harm, but they can be destroyed or blown away, although they will respawn within a few minutes. The paint will immediately disappear and stop its effects when Wally snaps out of it. Eventually, Wally will be able to master this power and control this form.

Julie - Julie has the ability to grow and manipulate all plants, but she typically sprouts flowers and roots all around. Her weapon is a yo-yo that she uses to grab things, whack ‘em, and turn it large to roll somebody over! Julie is the first to spring into action when something goes awry in the neighborhood, usually followed by Frank (who’s always dragged into the fight. Poor guy!).

Frank - Frank’s ability is butterfly manipulation: he can summon swarms of them to disorient enemies, and he can also “see” through his butterfly’s eyes to spy. Frank’s magic also allows him to take on the physiology/abilities of butterflies, such as flight, cocoon generation, and poison spit. His weapon is a bug net, which he waves around to ensnare and smack monsters!

Poppy - Poppy is the main healer of the Magical Girl team! As is her role, she has the ability to heal all injuries and ailments. Her healing magic can also bless food, so you can take a bite out of her seed treats and feel better instantly. She hates battle and prefers to stay on the sidelines to heal her friends. In tense moments, out comes her mighty shield that’ll protect her and her friends from any sort of danger!

Barnaby - Barnaby’s ability is elasticity, which means he can stretch himself as far as he wants. It’s a useful power for grabbing things a little too far away, slingshotting, or just being plain silly. His weapon is a large squeaky hammer—even with its usual soft squeakiness, it could still hit hard with a bit of momentum from wound up arms (just like Popeye)! He can perform all sorts of crazy feats with his bendy puppet limbs!

Eddie - Eddie is the neighborhood mailman, of course, but when he’s not handling packages, he’s working alongside his friends in their magical girl escapades! He has the ability to generate and manipulate paper: it can fold and move according to his control. For more precise crafts or battle, he uses his magic scissors to snip away! Before he de-transforms, he always makes sure to create more paper for his letters and envelopes.

Sally - Sally has the ability to control the weather! Her powers can draw out different weather conditions, sun, rain, snow, (you name it) and direct towards a certain area too. Her weapon is a staff with a sun-shaped topper, modeled after the shining star herself. Sometimes, during one of her stupendous plays, she summons thunder for dramatic effect—which she quickly changes back to sunny before the wind and rain can destroy her whole stage.

Howdy - Howdy has the ability to create any object he desires. Technically, His main “weapon” is his bottomless bag, but he typically uses his other creations to support his neighbors. Although in desperate times, his bag can still totally pack(aha) a punch! Most of his creations stored in the bag, which he knows like the back of his four hands. He’s the only one who can even navigate it!

Random notes and trivia:

* Wally’s power doesn’t work on photographs, printed artwork, clay, and fibers (RIP he can’t control his funny cardboard cutout.. Eddie probably can though)

* Wally’s paintbrush can be used as a blunt object

* Julie can accelerate the growth of a plant, but its fruits/vegetables will taste lackluster so it’s better to just let it grow by itself

* Frank’s summoned butterflies are not alive unlike the various bugs in the neighborhood.

* Frank’s cape opens up like wings when he flies!

* Eddie is the only neighbor allowed to have a sharp weapon

* Howdy and Eddie can both produce paper

#magical girl! wally au #welcome home #strawberiiart #au talk #been wanting to do this for a while #but it took me like 3 months to figure out what i wanted to write for barnaby’s and sally’s stuff #eventually i will come up with a design for all of them.. but it will still be a while because character design is hard 😭#i was able to figure out a little bit of the quote unquote story i sorta made for welcome home thanks to the new update

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sundial-bee-scribbles · 11 months

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Could I ask 9 and/or 4?

got two people asking for 4 so i'll get to it lol but first:

9. What are your file name conventions

well it depends, usually now they're p straightforward (often for organizational purposes)

sometimes tho they're kinda funny

4. Fav character/subject that's a bitch to draw

oh there's probably a LOT honestly that i'm just forgetting abt but for one i'll say a certain bitch: FUKASE

ohhhhh my god. love that bastard but also wtf dude. aside from wildly inconsistent characterization in my stuff (b/c honestly he's a really interesting character who has a lot of potential for different interpretations, imo) I KEEP FUCKING UP HOW I DRAW HIM 😭😭 i'll forget some detail or another (like on his outfit or the fucking x thing near his mouth or the little flag on his head), colors aren't always consistent cause i keep changing them (sorry my guy your current red is kinda too high contrast and i got color theory shit going on in my things), I CAN NEVER FUCKING DRAW HIS HAIR RIGHT EVEN THO ITS NOT EVEN THEORETICALLY THAT HARD OF A HAIRSTYLE, not even his height's fucking consistent either he's a goddamn mess. award goes to him for sure in being THE most inconsistent variable vocaloid bitch in my shit, not just hc/portrayal-wise but also drawing wise because FUCK even if i draw him somewhat often HE LITERALLY LOOKS DIFFERENT EVERY FUCKING TIME

len's hair is also a bitch sometimes but for some reason i (usually) have less trouble w/ his hairstyle compared to fukase's WHICH IS SOME FUCKING BACKWARDS ASS LOGIC BRUH THE HELL

weirdly specific artist asks

#ask #anonymous #ask meme #SORRY THE RESPONSE WAS DELAYED i was in class and in general i take forever to type this shit up and i wanted the file name pics #those are all from images ive already posted im pretty sure; have fun guessing which are which if youre up for that challenge lol #my file names used to be more exciting when i was younger but now theyre kinda usually just the title or smthn related to the subject etc #that isnt to say i dont still have funny file names but some of the funnier ones are like inside jokes nobody would get or sm shit like tha #just in general theres QUITE A LOT of vocaloid design choices that are fucking hell on earth for me to draw sometimes #took me a while to figure out piko's hairstyle. and the details on his dress/boots/headphone things are fucking hell still rip so i simplif #i havent drawn maika a lot but like the one time i did i realized her design is actually kinda fuckin weird. same can b said for many other #i love them dont get me wrong but AUGHGHH dies sometimes. idk why some shit is easier for me to draw and some not ??? logic #i can say i can pretty much draw oliver from memory tho so clearly theres a bias here #ollie the star anon

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satoruhour · 4 months

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Just thought of something FREAKY in class… Single father Satoru looking for a babysitter and you’re looking for a side income during semester break and the tension goes crazy!!!! “We should’t be doing this my son will wake up” I’M GONNA SCREAMMMM

BLISS, PURE BLISS

a/n: happy new year LMFAOOO. thank you for all the asks btw i promise ill answer them asap 🥹 / @shotorus @osaemu @shidouryusm @mysugu @hyomagiri ♱

wc: 6.4k

warnings: ‘onee-san’ used but more of just addressing reader as an older figure because saying babysitter is kinda weird lol (kind of like how chinese people use 姐姐 even if they are not related), fem!reader, dilf!gojo, age gap (gojo in his late 30s, reader in mid-20s), angst if u squint, bit of slow burn n tension, making out, use of ‘slut’ and ‘whore’, praise, oral (f! receiving) / cunnilingus, clit stimulation, unprotected sex, p -> v sex, multiple rounds, consensual filming, creampie / breeding kink, n*sfw under the cut

“no fucking way . .” you mumble mostly to yourself, standing in front of the largest house of the gated community in roppongi, and while you knew the people here were excessively and obnoxiously rich, you’re never quite prepared until you’re getting a key card specifically mailed to your name just so you could enter.

you’re not even shameful when you take a video to send to your best friends, locking your screen almost immediately because you knew you’d never get to the job on time if you replied to them. with calculated steps, you’re walking up the house that’s designed with a modern structure, yet still retaining characteristics of a traditional japanese home. it’s less prominent at the front of the house, though.

“(y/n)-san, was it?” a voice startles you out of your ogling sessions. if the garden was already this nice, what would be in store for you when you went in? you’ll be finding out soon when your employer himself opens the door to you, a man with striking white hair and equally striking blue eyes that seem to look right into you. he’s dressed in a suit, probably no doubt ready to get to work while you’re out here taking your time. you cringe, immediately walking up to the door.

“y-yes! yes, i’m sorry sir, i was just uhm—”

he holds that intimidating stare just for a moment but then he breaks into a smile that mirrors the bright sun that shines down on the porch.

“it’s alright . . it’s not everyday you’re working at some rich guy’s house, right?” he jokes but that strikes a little ick into you — he’s already ticking the boxes of obnoxious and excessively rich, but you hate the effect he’s having on you.

“yeah . . no, i guess,” he hums in reply before sticking a hand out.

“gojo satoru,” he introduces himself, “call me anything but that sir shit, alright, doll?”

you nod obediently, trying not to let the little pet name get to your head because he probably does this to any babysitter who comes through the house, but either way, he’s welcoming you in and it’s like you step into a world unreal. it’s spotless, the floors shining under the sunlight, a large television in the living room, a spacious open concept dining-kitchen area, and this is just the first floor.

gojo takes his time to show you the house — where his kid’s toys were, where the food was, where the bathrooms and bedrooms were, it was never-ending. every step you took made you feel like you were walking the length of the nile, each turn only revealing more rooms and corridors.

and then, finally, his baby boy.

“he’s a cheeky one, takes after his dad,” even with all the cockiness he’s shown to you, you can tell he has a soft spot for his kid. the boy stirs from his father’s voice, gleaming in happiness as he puts out his smaller hands to be picked up. as he settles into his arms, it’s just sinking in how tall your employer is. he makes a toddler look like a baby with how small his son looks wrapped snugly.

“satoshi, hi,” he whispers, bouncing the kid in his arms, “want to say hi to your onee-san?”

you manage a small wave but all he does is turn to hide in his father’s arms, definitely scared from a random stranger suddenly talking to him.

“she’s going to be taking care of you for the next month or so, you know?” he mumbles, brushing a hand through the matching white hair, “be nice to the babysitter, okay?”

all satoshi does is hum into his dad’s neck before he’s giving you a sheepish smile. “he’s like that, don’t worry about him.” and you return the smile, thinking that he wasn’t that obnoxious that you thought and that maybe he’s really a dad trying his hardest for his one kid. you realise he’s taking too much time, though, and so you sought out to remind him.

“oh, uh sir— gojo-san, don’t you have to go to work?”

although he’s mentioned satoshi to be taking after him, the boy goes right back to sleeping when he’s put back into his bed so you follow gojo as he adjusts his cuffs and smoothes out his collar just outside the room and you make the mistake of glancing upon the mirror on the far end of the corridor — it was undeniable that you looked like a high-end couple who’s newly married and raising a kid. you try to shake off the thoughts of adjusting his tie for him.

“it’s not being late if you’re on top.” he smirks and you resist the urge to roll your eyes; at least you weren’t alone in purging the delusional thoughts from your head, he was basically helping you at this point and you struggle between characterising him as conceited and admirable. “but, yeah, i should get going.”

but he stands at the door with backpack slung onto one shoulder while he continues to explain satoshi’s routines to you, his habits and also had to sneak in a few cute photos of the kid while squealing repeatedly and you’re left wondering how this guy could be the CEO of a company.

it’s been like that for as long as you can remember — bidding goodbye to your parents as you tell them that you’re off to your part-time job over the winter break. they’re happy you’re even leaving the house, shoving your lunch into your hands with big smiles that you’re at least doing anything other than sitting in your room. the train ride to the gated residential was nice, too, apart from the very crowded subways for people going to work in roppongi.

gojo greets you every morning when you arrive, reminding you of satoshi’s feeding times and his favourite shows and everything a father should know but don’t have the luxury to experience with aforementioned kid. it’s a little bittersweet, every time you see him kiss satoshi goodbye that turns into remaining in his room, to holding your hand and saying goodbye to daddy from the second floor, to getting carried by you at the front door.

it’s slow but sure progress day after day, from watching his cartoons, feeding him at the kitchen island, playing with his toys, that satoshi feels more and more comfortable with you, learning that while he was a well-behaved boy, he definitely had hints of your employer in him. mannerisms, words, voice, you wonder whether he even got any part of his mother in his genes.

you’d never ask, though, but it was told. unexpectedly.

“i’m home—” the last parts of his word die down into a whisper when he opens the door to see satoshi cuddled up to you, the last bits of home alone playing softly. by now you already know what happens in the movie so you’re texting your friends and laughing softly to yourself, jumping when your boss steps past the doorway. gojo winces when he checks his watch (“fuck. it’s already ten.”), toeing his shoes off and apologising simultaneously.

“oh— man, i’m so sorry, i had a late meeting with the CEO of our neighbouring franchise, i totally forgot about the time—” gojo’s quick to make his way down to the small pit of the house (he likes to call it the conversation pit), settling down on the side where satoshi had his head in your lap as his eyes linger on the movie. instinctively, his hands reach to pat his leg.

“oh, it’s okay, gojo-san, it’s the holidays anyway.”

“yeah?” he turns to you, one arm propped on the back of the sofa, “and why don’t a pretty girl like you have any plans?”

that catches you off-guard, among the many other times he’s called you pretty or sweets like no care in the world. you’re never quite used to it, too, seeking to fluster you. “you shouldn’t say stuff like that to me, gojo-san . .”

“why not?” he’s turned back to the television, now, and you take his place, staring at his side profile as the scenes of the movie move along his face. “i’m a single dad, aren’t i?”

“yeah but . . you could have anyone.”

“what if,” he turns and you chicken out, head snapping back to the front while he watches you and the both of you cannot deny the tiring dance you perform around each other all the time. the clench in his heart when he sees you carry his baby boy at the porch and the small smile he gives you every morning before he leaves for his job. he doesn’t want to go through with it and sighs.

it’s become hard to breathe around you. it’s become hard to hold himself back around you.

“i worked too much.” he suddenly says, facing the TV again. “i was too engrossed and . .”

confusion seeps in at first. yeah, it was no secret he worked his ass off despite being at the very top. your gaze falls to satoshi, curling more into your side like he’s cold and you adjust the blanket. you nod in recognition.

“we fought a lot. i tried— i tried to alter my schedule as much as i could, driving to and fro whenever she needed me, bringing satoshi to work as a baby when we couldn’t come to a compromise, but it was a lot. for her, for satoshi. he could sense whenever we were about to fight, on edge voices, items clattering to the floor . .”

by now, he’s leaned back, back of his hand resting on his forehead, “and he’d cry like he was interrupting us. cheeky, i told you,” and his eyes close, “we hardly reached middle ground. it was either this or that, hire a nanny or we take care of him, my endless job or the joy of life. i’m ashamed that i’ve prioritised my job more, and still do it now.”

“if you didn’t, i wouldn’t be here, would i?”

that draws a chuckle out of him, “correct.”

“she couldn’t take it, not when she was a businesswoman on top of that. she was out doing herself at every aspect in her job, going to greater heights, and while she accused me of putting work first, she isn’t entirely innocent, either. but that’s . .”

“you don’t have to say anything, gojo-san,” you mumble as you watch the reunion of the characters in the movie before the screen cuts the black, no doubt affecting him in some way at the warmth displayed by the movie that contrasts heavily with his situation, “the fact that you even told me is . .”

the heavy atmosphere is disrupted by satoshi gasping, “papa! you’re home.”

you exchange awkward smiles as you watch the boy fight his way out of the blanket to hug gojo, the latter huffing when the boy drops his body weight on him and you take it as a sign to give them a bit of privacy, standing up to clean up the popcorn and cups. laughter and your employer’s voice resonate throughout the place even as they go up the stairs, a rare occasion where gojo is able to get his son ready for bed.

it’s only maybe an hour later when the house falls into silence. mouth burning from the mouthwash, the heater in satoshi’s room turned to a high setting, one bedtime story was read (which, he fell asleep halfway), the boy was out like a light. you felt it inappropriate to leave without at least saying goodbye, but you also didn’t want to cut into their time together; at least, that’s what you told yourself.

so you waited with your things on the kitchen island, getting a risky text just as gojo comes down, still in his suit from work.

[11:02pm, nobara -> you] BITCH GET THAT DICKKKKK!!!!!!!

and you yelp softly, slamming your phone down onto his marble counter. thankfully, he doesn’t notice, eyes close to shutting from fatigue.

“oh, shit, you’re still here?”

“i thought it would be, weird, if i didn’t say goodbye,” you get ready to leave, slinging your tote bag on, “but i also didn’t want to intrude on your time with satoshi, limited as it is.” well, you did also wish something would happen, but you had too much pride to admit it to yourself.

“you got a ride home?” he yawns and you feel guilty for extending your stay already. you didn’t even need to worry about the front door, he lived in a gated community for christ’s sake!

“um, not really, but i can always book an uber home.”

“i’ll drive you home, it’s unsafe,” is all he says like he’s trying to convince himself, “let me just get changed and we can go.”

gojo doesn’t leave you any room to protest before he’s up the stairs again and you’re left with a pounding heart and dizzy head, not sure what might ensue. you know him to be honourable; you’ve seen him with his child, you’ve seen him interact with his neighbours, but a late ride with your boss sounds sketchy as it is.

but it doesn’t feel like it when you feel the tokyo wind blowing through your hair, a slight gap in the window bringing you the chills of the night as he silently drives you back home. sitting in your employer’s car most of all felt weird, but even more so when he’s reaching your home faster than the gps system had predicted. his knuckles are white.

“you—”

your head snaps to him, “yes?”

his car headlights are the brightest in the parking lot where every car is silent, quiet, much like his clammy hands and red cheeks. gojo satoru turns to you, feeling that familiar tug in his heart and lump in his throat for the first time in a while, and he can’t speak.

but you lean forward like your life depends on it and you leap inwardly when you see that he does the same. eyes trained forward, your stares boring into the other, waiting to see who’d close their eyes first. you just stop short of an inch, met with the hypnotising swirls of raging oceans in gojo’s eyes and you swallow when his eyes flit down to your lips and back up like he wouldn’t get caught.

with shaking hands, your fingers trace over his lips and you sigh when you feel just how soft they are, just like his skin, just like his eyes when they look at satoshi. your heart skips a beat when he just lightly kisses the pads of your fingers, and that encourages you to cradle his cheek, up his jaw, up his undercut.

“let’s just kiss, yeah?” he was afraid that if he spoke too loud, he’d shatter the glass, snap the string of tension, voice cracking until you swallow it, you stomach his nervousness with a lively, strong kiss from your lips to his, and he just melts.

gojo hums into the kiss, leaning forward over the stick shift and into the passenger seat before you counter it with your own movements: hand on his shoulders and pushing until you’re on his space of the driver’s seat and playing the game of tug that’s been going on for the past few weeks. you win.

“god, you’re so . .” gojo whines out when you climb onto him, whispering into your mouth while you get comfortable in your straddling position, cutting him off with a second, rougher kiss and you both moan softly, passion taking over in the evident way your arms scramble to wrap around him while he pulls you flush against his front.

the car is filled with sounds of your kissing, something that definitely shouldn’t be done in his home and yet you risk it all in your home’s parking lot. you break the kiss and hide in his neck, already starting the makings of a hickey there while your pelvis selfishly grinds into his front and he kneads your ass. in the mingling of breaths and moans, he’s left to stop the two of you when there’s a muffled ringtone coming from your bag and you swallow at the insanity of the situation.

“i’ll see you, monday, right?” gojo breathlessly says later, bulge still showing through his sweats while you hang outside the driver’s side, not wanting to leave. he takes your hand, planting a peck on it and then brings you in for another harmless kiss.

“yeah, gojo-san . . monday.”

you lose count of how many times you’ve swallowed throughout the night, but he says something to lift the mood just a bit.

“we just made out and you’re still calling me by my last name?”

you laugh lightly, “monday, satoru. i’ll be there, same time, on monday.”

gojo leaves a farewell kiss to the inside of your wrist, “attagirl.”

but if you’re not careful, it might just happen in satoru’s house.

the remainder of your employment at his house is tiring. it’s so hard not to kiss him before he leaves for work, so difficult not to long for him while you take care of satoshi, so entirely harrowing not to claim him as yours as you watch him play after his work. at this point, you’re hoping school will just start soon and the rush of assignments and readings will take your mind off of it, but you cannot deny the excitement every time you leave your house.

“you’ll bring food and cook every monday, wednesday, friday, and i’ll order food for the both of you every tuesday and thursday, how’s that?” gojo thinks it’s time to introduce him to larger pieces of food, but it’s gone past that by now and to your meal arrangements.

“i’m okay with cooking, though!” you assure him, and plus, you loved your parents’ home cooked bentos that they give you everyday, “do we gotta?”

“sorting out meals is tiring, (y/n),” gojo takes the place beside you, leaning against the counter just like you before drinking out of his cup, “i want to at least help at little.”

“you already are.” you smile, “i can see you making the effort.”

“it’s not enough, though, i could be doing better.”

gojo hates how this scene sets up — like two parents just figuring out the best for their kid — it’s a callback to the memory in the same exact kitchen. at least all you do is kiss and make out, because he wouldn’t know what to do if you moan out his name in that same intimate way that threatens his walls to come down again. he loved sex, he loved the bedroom, but he’s riding a thin line the way he’s doing with you.

“you are,” is everything that you say, and you leap forward to kiss him. you do it so hard that he has to put down the glass to fully embrace you, walking you backwards to the conversation pit and he carries you so effortlessly because he doesn’t want you walking backwards down some stairs.

he hates how you bring him into your lips, he hates how gently he lays you down, and he hates how you accept the kisses down your neck and body. you, on the other hand, aren’t doing so well, either — it’s either a hit or miss with a broken man like gojo satoru, and you’re stepping on glass shards hoping you don’t say anything wrong with him because he’s trying his best but he just can’t see it.

“are you okay with this?” he asks halfway down your torso and he gets lightheaded from how well his hands cover your waist. “tell me to stop, and i’ll stop.”

“n-no . . keep going, satoru.”

he exhales shakily at that, fingers tugging your top up and his hands are so cold you resist shivering, but you do anyway from the sheer fucking craziness that gojo drives you into. one pop of your button, and you’re already lifting your hips off the couch for him to remove your pants but movement on the stairs make you halt.

“papa?” satoshi calls out sleepily, rubbing his eyes and pouting. you can see it, almost, with how much time you’ve spent with the kid, and you hope he can’t see you. “i . . i had a nightmare and i just— i wanna sleep with you.”

he’s started sniffling and you feel your heart break that he knows his papa well enough to know he would never sleep in his room. his job always has him sleeping out in the living room.

go. you mouth, kissing your fingers and pressing it to his lips before he puts on a show — yawning, stretching his arms, already making satoshi feel at ease with his theatrics before he’s stopping at the foot of the stairs to look back at you. you already know gojo satoru has redeemed himself a hundred times over. i’ll see you tomorrow.

funnily, satoshi somehow does have some intervention powers, because each time the both of you attempt to go down on each other, he’s either saying he threw up, or he needs to use the toilet, or that he’s hungry. while you both love him to death, it’s also becoming difficult to hold back each time you see each other. his car in your parking lot is all he has and you dare not to go to his workplace where rumours would spark.

so after a tiring night of getting a hyper satoshi to sleep, you’d at least try. at this point, you know not to expect too much out of it, starting always with some talking. it was easy to talk to your boss, and when you phrase it like that, it did come off a little strange, but it was far from that when your boss in his late 30s looked just like he did ten years ago and that he had crazy blue eyes and insane white hair and was hot.

“thank you for taking care of him for the past month and a half,” gojo thanked you, leaning over to give you a peck to the temple, “it means a lot.”

“he’s a sweet boy, plus, i do need the money,” you giggle, nudging him, “and it did let me get to know you . .”

“certainly,” he mumbles. drunk off your scent, he leans in again, kissing you fully on the lips now. you hum softly, going on your tippy toes and wrapping your arms around his shoulder. swiftly, he props you on the kitchen counter and you yelp in surprise, unable to help the throb of your pussy when he slots himself in between your legs.

jokingly, he puts his hand to his ear. “no satoshi interruption tonight?”

you smack his shoulder, “don’t jinx it.”

he laughs, a proper laugh before he sighs shakily, fingers thumbing your sides gently. “you know . . we shouldn’t be doing this,” you feel your heart sink a little, but he quells it with hovering lips over yours, “he could hear and wake up.”

“then why have you been accepting all my kisses, gojo satoru?” your eyes challenge him, but you know one touch from him would have you submitting to him. his breath fans over your lips, and you can feel his pulse speed up when your fingers go over his neck, to his nape, to his undercut. you run your fingertips through it.

“you have too much power over me, simple.” that sentence has your eyes fluttering close. it’s too much for you and yet you welcome it with open arms, “it’s become so bad that you’re all i think about.”

“is that so?” you pull lightly on his hair.

he nods, foreheads touching now and he’s trying to hold himself back, but, “i’ve been holding back, entirely too much, baby, and i don’t think i can, anymore.”

“yeah?” you whisper, bringing him in with your legs, “show me, then.”

gojo satoru decides that maybe taking the leap isn’t so bad, so he fully gives himself to you, tugging your lips to his in a clashing kiss that has you groaning in pain just a bit. he giggles and apologises and tries again, and this time, it’s got your hips moving against him, whimpering into his mouth. gojo’s hard just from kissing, something that he’s desperate to relieve himself off so — he’s whispering for you to hang on while he slots his hands under your ass and lifts you.

satoru knows his house well, walking up with you in tow and lips still on yours, right into his room. you giggle when he plops you down and he’s already looking forward to ravishing you, but —

“let me check on satoshi for a sec.”

you laugh silently, “of course, satoru, go.”

and once your boss’ made sure his son is out cold in slumber, he’s all over you again and definitely showing you how much he’s been holding himself back. you’re the pure focus of the night, making you chase for more when he pulls away and kissing down your body. he worships it, tongue circling a nipple while his hand plays with the other, eyes staring holes into yours from how intense the blue was.

“s-satoru . .”

“yes, sweets, what is it?”

“feels good—” you whine, back arching into his hold once he leaves your tits and continues down your body. each kiss is like hellfire against your cold skin, and he pops a button and listens out again, both of you sighing in relief and giggling to each other when you don’t hear a knock on the door.

“does it? good.” it’s tantalisingly slow, the pace at which gojo peels your clothes off, but when your pants are finally off, he marvels at your beauty as he brings your legs apart. you’re shy, hiding yourself behind your arms and resisting his hands.

“aht, no, c’mon, show yourself, baby.” he only moans when he sees the dark patch at the centre of your underwear, pressing a finger into your clit and you’re ashamed at how intensely you react to it. gojo continues his torture, thumbing your bud just to watch your face contort into pleasure, “so, so pretty.”

you preen at the praise, even more so when he pulls your panties to the side and sucks slowly on your clit. it’s slow, again, and you’re clutching the sheets so tight when he lays his tongue flat against your pussy. satoru takes his time, savouring each bit of your cunt to make up for lost time, filling the room with the lewdest noises of your sopping cunt on his tongue.

“taste so fuckin’ sweet, pussy’s s’good,” he practically moans into your core, arms wrapping around your thighs to bring you closer while you try to keep your noises down to a minimum. little pants and mewls leave your lips, eyes never leaving the head of hair.

but he’s unpredictable, as gojo always is, so when he’s hovering over you just to give you a little innocent kiss, you think nothing of it, until he’s back in front of your pussy and starts eating you out like a starved man. you let out a loud moan, dragging it out until you’re gulping down your next sounds. it doesn’t help much, though, cause gojo’s slurping at your pussy like it’s the end of the world.

“s-satoru—! too much—” you moan but your hips grind into his mouth, your hands now finding purchase in his hair, “t-too loud.”

“mmf— don’t care,” he mumbles into your cunt, making sure he gets every drop of your arousal on his tongue while he abuses your clit, alternating between flicking his tongue and sucking hard and you think it’s the best head you’ve ever gotten.

“not when your cunt’s so perfect,” you only press his head deeper into you like it would stop his muffled sentences, but that only spurs him to suck harder before he just shifts down a little to plunge his tongue into your hole. you choke out a moan as his nose nudges your clit, clenching around his muscle.

“relax— mmhh, you gotta relax, baby,” he’s massaging your thighs but if anything it does the exact opposite, closing your thighs around his head in sensitivity.

“it’s— h-hard to,” you moan out, already feeling the coil in your tummy that’s approaching oh, so quickly when gojo eats you out like this. he shifts his attention back to your puffy clit, eyes flicking up to make contact with yours and you shrivel under his intense stare, “w-when you’re making me feel s’good—!”

you feel him smile into your cunt but he says nothing, taking note of the drop of your jaw, the scrunch of your eyes, the contractions of your stomach. your legs like to straighten out and shake when you’re close, he memorises. when you start to tighten your grip on his hair, he ingrains it in his mind.

“cumming— i’m c-close,” but it’s like satoru doesn’t even need it when his eyes digest the way he sends you over the edge with just his tongue.

“g— god! satoru!” your mouth falls into a silent scream after, head dipping so much into the pillow while you grind your cunt into his face, gushing all over his face with a renewed spirit and regret for all those times that men have rubbed your left lip thinking it was your clit.

“let it go, yeess . . that’s it,” satoru doesn’t hesitate to get sloppy, sucking up all your cum, gasping for air once he’s done with his meal, “pretty girl just came all over my face.”

you struggle to your elbows despite the words he utters, propped up just to catch a glimpse of him and the soaked bottom of his face that stretches into a smile.

“was that better than all the uni boys who’ve never felt the touch of a woman?” you laugh at that, making quick work of grabbing his chin and bringing him back to your lips.

“much, much better.” and you take the opportunity to flip the tables, trembling, shaking legs trying their best to wrap around his torso to straddle him — but once you’re over, you’re not quite sure what to do apart from letting your hands roam all over the expanse of his shoulders and chest.

“and can she do it again all over my cock?” the obscene words sound almost taboo falling from his mouth that your mouth drops open in initial shock, but it subsides into anticipation soon enough.

wordlessly, you take matters into your own hands, fingers making quick work of his trousers while he removes his top impatiently. the scowl on your face is prominent when you struggle to work his belt out and he chuckles with helping hands, the burn on your face deepening.

“there,” gojo giggles and he pulls you in with a peck-filled apology, “don’t worry, we have all the time in the world.”

you hum, “not when your son could knock any time soon.”

that prompts a giggle that fades off into a loud moan once your warm hand wraps around him, something that he’d never tell you how many times he’s fantasised about. slowly, you stroke his cock, excruciatingly slow just like how he’s done to your cunt earlier.

you’re hovering over him, now, dragging his tip along your pussy and whining softly at the pre-cum that mixes together with your juices. you need him into you as soon as possible, and apart from your soon burning thighs, you’ve been wanting this for as long as you’ve stepped foot into his house from the very first day.

inch by inch, you sink down onto gojo’s weeping cock, getting the luxury of feeling his sensitive twitches with the plunge into your cunt. you’re glad at least he had offered to stretch you out just a tad bit earlier, the intrusion of his fingers already having you panting for his dick; and now, when you have the real thing, it drives your mind insane.

“’t-toru— haah . .” your body curls up from the painful stretch, lips muttering the nickname unknowingly as you grasp onto his shoulders for support, and while he helps you on, he never stops saying the most filthy things, grinning each time you clench around him.

“never thought i’d be here, fuckin’ the babysitter, but here we are,” your oh my god is whispered only for the other to hear, body burning up from the words before he grinds his pelvis into yours and you slump forward in pleasure. your words are a bunch of nothingness, a string of incoherence, “and her pussy’s just so fucking— tight!”

giving you one or two breaths of rest, satoru coos in your face, cradling it and littering kisses all over it before he’s moving his hips and you’re breaking the kiss to whine out, moving your hips to meet his as well. you move sooner or later, bouncing on his cock once you’re more used to him in you and the position only hits all your spots just right.

“f-fuck— you’re so big—!” you roll your hips into him, eyes stuck on how there’s just a small bump in your tummy each time you bottom out. your boss from across you is equally ruined, eyes struggling to keep open with wet hair stuck to his forehead. “feel so so g-good . .”

“yeah?” he breathlessly mumbles, hand squeezing and kneading your ass and trying to help you, but the warmth of your cunt around his length just feels too good. “bounce on that dick, baby.”

and you do, planting your feet into the bed and fingers creating bruises along his shoulders as you impale yourself on his fat cock, switching to relaxing in his embrace and letting your hips do the work when your legs start hurting. there, you indulge in gojo’s lips as you hump him, the delicious friction of your clit against his pubes sending you reeling.

“you’re going to be soaking my sheets from how much you’re leaking,” gojo jests, letting your moans take over his mind while his lips trace down your neck, eyes just peeking over to see your ass ripple from the force. “not that i mind. how’s she doin’?”

“she’s getting,” a choked whine interrupts you, “a little tired.”

and that draws a laugh out of gojo who does nothing but tease you, something he likes to do even in makeout sessions, and he doesn’t hesitate to reach over to his bedsie table to grab his phone, leaning back to bask in your glory. here, your body just looks heavenly as you try your best to move on his lap.

“hang on a little more for me, princess,” with one hand, his larger hand leave chills all over your body and the other points his phone at you, not before making sure you were okay with it, “and smile for the camera.”

you try your best even when his hand make his way to your mouth, pulling it open with his fingers to slot it in. you’re sure you look like a whore right now, but the camera pointed your way only turn you on more, like it’s beckoning you to put on a show. and you loved the attention, so you close your lips around his fingers and start sucking, grinding even harsher on his cock that has gojo stuttering.

“y—yeah, attagirl . .” he grins at the video he takes, “show the camera how much of a cockslut you are.”

you whine, bringing the hand to your clit while you shove two hands onto his torso to really work your thighs out, feeling that familiar curl in your stomach once he starts rubbing his saliva-filed fingers along you bundle of nerves.

“r-right there, satoru—!” you swear under your breath, giving hooded eyes to the camera while you chase your high drunkenly, all sort of coherent thought banished from your head. “love your cock, love it, love it—!”

satoru swears he wants to cum from just watching you use him, and even holding himself back is proving difficult when you clamp and tighten around him until his fingers press particularly deep into your clit and you’re cumming with a loud cry of his name, body convulsing all over the video.

“tha’s a good girl . . cream my cock, yeeaaahh . .” gojo watches, hypnotised, as you lose control over your body, but the pleasure-filled whimper that you merge his name with is just too good, that he spills unexpectedly in you. the video is far from stable, so he only slaps the phone down to relish in his orgasm. gojo pushes his hips up and you gasp at the feeling, back arching when you feel his cum seep into you.

you’ve never even given much thought to pregnancy, but the feeling of his cum dribbling into you fogs your mind that you only want more after a mental note to buy the morning after pill tomorrow.

“n-need more,” you beg, fondling at his cheeks and undercut, “w-want more cum in me, satoru . .”

and it’s like a flip switches in him, because he’s flipping you over right after — he has to see his cum leave your pussy first though, taking the still ongoing video and putting it right up to your pussy, using his tip to smear your mixed juices all around.

“who knew i’d hired such a dirty girl?” he addresses the camera more than you, but he catches your flustered glance with a wink and after poorly setting up the camera on his bedside table (he just was too intoxicated on your cunt), he’s pushing back into you with a loud groan, not even caring for the consequences any more. his cum is just so much, too, spilling out the sides.

“only f’r you,” you mumble, grabbing at his forearms needily. your eyes flutter close as he bottoms out, your legs pushed right up to your chest as he folds you whichever way he wants to. at this point, if he wanted to own you, you wouldn’t object one bit, not when gojo satoru’s cock stretches your pretty pussy so nicely. “a cumslut only for you.”

“yeah?” he starts moving his hips and your arch into his hold, “i wonder how i got so — fuck — lucky.” everything is sloppy and wet and disgusting and you love every moment of it, even after he’s cummed in you the second, third, fourth time, you’re happy to be pumped full of his cum, giving him a tired, glistening grin that he returns.

“think i should be transferring over my life savings for a cunt this sweet,” you giggle at the compliment, but don’t protest when he’s pulling up the app to gift you with a hefty amount; both your salary and bonus, all from making gojo satoru fall helplessly just from your touch — something to brag about indeed.

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silkjade · 8 months

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MIRACLE ALIGNERS

Featuring— neuvillette x reader ⤀ warnings: none ! ⤀ summary: the melusines play matchmaker a/n: do they need an ideal mother

Your relationship with fontaine’s melusines started when you took on the menial task of helping menthe tailor the sleeves of her too long cuffs, and was solidified after your wholehearted support for aeval’s aquabus tour. In such a small community, word travels fast and your popularity skyrockets when mamere paints your portrait as her muse of choice.

It’s not like you mind, as they’re quite easy to get along with—very sweet, if not a little naive—and you do enjoy their company when they greet you on the streets or invite you to tea. Still, it comes as a bit of a surprise when a few approach you, absolutely convinced that you’d be a great companion to their ‘very lonely, very human friend.’

…Which is how you come to find yourself seated at cafe lucerne, impatiently tapping your fingers at this supposed ‘friend’ who would be so rude as to make you wait more than 30 minutes past the designated meeting time. You take a deep breath to keep your irritation at bay, convincing yourself that any friend of the melusines, especially one they speak so highly of, must be a good person.

As you continue to wait, one table away, something very blue crosses your line of sight, and you look up to discover that it’s none other than the esteemed iudex himself, the chief justice who radiates such an air of refined elegance that you cannot help but sit up a little straighter in his vicinity. Seems this day just got a little more interesting as it’s not everyday you run into the notoriously elusive monsieur neuvillette just out and about on the streets of fontaine.

You yourself have been to your share of trials at the opera epiclese, seen him from his seat up above, looming over the courtroom, high and mighty. Up close, he’s still all sharp lines and perfect etiquette, the very personification of grace, but you can’t deny the fact that he’s so much more handsome in person.

He casts a glance towards a nearby clock, and while his expression remains largely neutral, his violet eyes dance, perturbed. Perhaps he’s also meeting someone here? You deduce that it must be so, judging by the fact that he’s seated at a table clearly meant for more, and since you obviously have the time, you might as well play detective, which now begs the question: who could he be meeting?

You highly doubt it’s lady furina, so perhaps another official? Except an outdoor cafe is hardly the place to conduct such business. Besides, the average fontainian would be much too intimidated to dare keep someone of such high regard waiting. Maybe a friend, then?

Your head tilts as you think through your observations. At least outwardly, monsieur neuvillette is…cold. He presents himself the same way in and out of court: untouchable as the sun, but with none of its warmth. He’s private and stays out of the public eye, only ever seen interacting comfortably with the archon and…the melusines…

You lean back in disbelief at the way it all clicks. Impossible. The friend the melusines so adamantly wanted to introduce you to is…monsieur neuvillette? What a ridiculous notion to even entertain. Besides, it’s public knowledge that he’s much more of a father figure to them… although it does explain why they seemed so tongue-tied describing this so-called ‘friend.’

And…he does look quite forlorn sitting there, face blank and fingers laced together. You make a mental note to remind your little friends that as amiable as he may be with them, they cannot just blindside you with the chief justice of fontaine. Still, a meeting is a meeting, and it’d be terribly rude of you to just up and leave.

“Um, pardon me monsieur neuvillette but you wouldn’t happen to be meeting anyone here, would you?”

Neuvillette blinks. What a pleasant surprise; not many approach him of their own accord. “As it happens, I was supposed to meet a few melusines for tea.” He gestures to the evidently empty table, though his sharp ears catch the faint whispers amidst the rustle of leaves to his side.

“However, I suspect they may have forgotten to inform me of their change of plans.” He clears his throat, tilting his head towards a nearby bush where the tips of a few very colorful pairs of ears wiggle in excitement.

The corners of your lips quirk into the beginnings of a small smile. “That’s funny—a few melusines insisted that I meet a very human friend of theirs, though he’s yet to show up.” For obvious reasons, you decide to drop the fact they called him lonely behind his back.

Ah. So you were the kind individual his melusines often spoke so fondly of.

“Perhaps he attended the trial this morning. It did run longer than anticipated.” Yes, you knew there must have been a valid explanation to the tardiness.

“Well, maybe we can keep each other company while we wait?”

Neuvillette gestures at the empty chair across from him and you swear the sun seems to shine a little brighter. “I would very much like that.”