So Many Wips And So Little Time

thinking about barista!yuuta who tries his best, but can never quite get your coffee order just right. he's devastated every time—you were his very first regular at the coffee shop, patient and kind to him despite the fact that he had ambled around cluelessly behind the counter, pink dusted cheeks and fidgeting hands as he tried to figure out what the fuck a cappuccino was. it's been almost two months so far, and he's no closer to figuring out the proper ratio of foam to steamed milk.

it's his twelfth time making your order, and he twiddles his thumbs as you grimace slightly through large sips only to push down your feelings and smile, "yuuta, it's perfect, absolutely perfect—"

yuuta sighs, dismayed. "you hate it."

your smile turns sheepish under his pouty gaze. "no, seriously, you got it right this time, i swear. i love the hint of hazelnut you've added!"

"i didn't put any hazelnut in it," yuuta's brows furrow, clearly unconvinced and wilting as every second passes. despite the interesting taste, the coffee in front of you sits almost half empty. his eyes meet yours once again, renewed. "i'll get it right next time. i'll remake your drink as many times as i have to, until it's exactly how you like it!"

he turns around, murmuring and fussing about how many pumps of syrup he needs for the next time, what temperature, the angle of how he stirs—it's enough to make the commute and the hassle of going to a coffee shop nearly half an hour away from where you live worth it, if only the cute barista could just stop and realize you're not really there for the coffee.

you hope, for your sake and his, that he never gets your order right.

PLS HE LOOKS SO CUTE!!!!!! BABY YUJI IS MY BELOVED

nonnie, fear not-- working on that delectable request fic rn. hopefully i can finish it before the week over <3

social anxiety on TUMBLR of all things

"born under a bad sign"

— sukuna ryomen

tags ට yan sukuna, zombie apocalypse au, sukuna typical violence, slight gore (also typical), dubious consent, fingering, petting, dirty talk (are we even surprised), caretaker kink, minor infantilization, wildest backshots known to man, virgin reader

a/n ට baby's first ever fic <3 i've seen a lot of yan sukuna on my dash (1 & 2) and these ficlets/drabbles acted as my main source of inspiration. this wasn't at all how i imagined this to go, but i don't mind doing a second part at all. sukuna's probably occ but to me he's so sickingly sweet to you, and so violent to everyone else.

───⠀౨ৎ you puzzle around the reasons why sukuna would help you, of all people. why he didn't leave you to die. why he goes through the trouble. and then. and then he shows you. (3.6k wc)

the circumstances in which he stumbles upon you are purely accidental. sukuna swings down the hammer, relishes in the sick squelch of bone and sinew giving away and the feel of blood spattering back onto his face in wide arcs and the sight of you going very, very, still underneath him.

you had been so loud, before. screaming and whining and pleading for mercy. you're silent now. he wonders if you even dare to breathe. and that is how he finds it in himself to stop. to pull away. sukuna hasn't seen you yet, and he's curious to know what he's found.

slowly, with trembling, dainty little fingers, one of your hands reaches up to touch the dead mans shoulder. the tiniest of whimpers escapes you, hand spasming but managing enough of your strength to lift up and push the body away.

sukuna lets the hammer clatter noisily to the floor, smirk widening across his face at how you jump, shoulders raised and body tense with obvious fear. he crouches down, blood covered hand wrapping around your ankle and pulling you in to him with one sudden move. you allow yourself to look at his hands, his clothes spattered in blood, and nothing else.

you tremble, head hanging low. sukuna's tongue traces his sharp teeth, content no longer with silence.

"won't you look at me, sweetheart?" he croons, hand smearing blood from your cheek. you tremble and shake some more, ready to burst out of your skin at the juxtaposition of his touch.

but you lift your head. you obey. you must be fighting against every wired instinct right now. the ones that tell you to run. to hide. he doesn't bother hiding the shuddering low moan when he sees you.

"oh, look at you, gorgeous, prettiest little thing i've ever seen" he says, pulling in closer. the blood coating your face does little to hide your shining wide bambi eyes, your full lips, the gentle swoop of your nose. he reaches out behind him, patting around for something to clean your face. "good girl, stay still. just like that"

sukuna's big hand is like a brand against your skin. he cups your chin, turns your head to the side. you make a loud strangled whimper, no doubt having seen what was left of your attacker. sukuna tuts, pulls you back to him, pets at your shoulders and the back of your head until you calm down.

when he turns your head again, you keep your eyes shut.

"wh-what's your. your name?" you say, shakily, eyes darting across his face, pretty brown hands curling and uncurling with anxiety. its clear that you're just looking for something to distract you. it's endearing. you're endearing. sukuna wants to carve out a hole inside his chest and shove you in it.

"sukuna." he says simply, eyes catching on a reflecting light. his thumb trails from the side of your neck now, down to your chest. and the small golden pin pressed into your bloodstained shirt. whistles in surprise. "waseda?"

you nod slowly, reaching for your pin again. sukuna lets you get close enough to grab it and then at the last second, holds it above your head.

his presses the pin back into your palm, and pets at your hair. "bet you would've fetched a pretty penny before all of this huh? sweet little girl like you. what'd you study in waseda, pretty girl?"

"law" you mumble, mouth struggling to form around the word. he barks out a loud laugh at that, petting at your face like one would a nervous kitten. your hands curl into your lap. "do—are you in...are you in school sukuna?"

another loud laugh. he manages to sound mocking and sweet all at once and his voice stuffs your head with cotton. "no, sweet girl. not in school"

"oh." you swallow around nothing again, voice quiet. you don't want to know what he did, before. you aren't sure you'll be able to stomach the answer. silence stretches between the two of you once more, and you know he's waiting for something. "do you have any water?"

sukuna smirks, teeth glinting in the low light. doesn't say anything at all. your mind puzzles over your words, searching for an error. you frown, peering over at him question dancing on your tongue.

he says nothing still. and his hand encloses around yours, pulls it into his lap. he traces over your fingers and up to your wrist, up some more—to your forearm. his other hand reaches for the hammer, still bloody, still wet, as he stands to his feet and pulls you up with him.

you have no choice, but to follow him. you're weak, physically, emotionally, mentally—you never would have been able to survive on your own.

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

you wrack your brain, searching for a reason.

before, your family had money. sukuna would have been compensated heavily for his time, for his odd stroke of generosity—no matter the violent steps taken in between. but your family is in america, and you are here, in japan. tears bead at your waterline and you're quick to brush them away but they won't stop falling. they fall faster than your hands can move and you curl into yourself.

sukuna raps his knuckles against the door loudly. waits a moment and then pushes both of you inside. its a bit nicer than what you would assume a man like sukuna—the type of bash a mans head in with you still underneath him—would enjoy. but then it breaches your mind in a moment of painstakingly clarity. you don't know him at all.

"are you going to kill me?" you ask through your tears, shuddering and shaking. maybe sukuna's the sick sort of man you've studied in your textbooks. the kind that like's to draw the violence out, so that it'll hurt more. there's a word for that kind of man.

it's been. it's been days, you think. a week, at most. together, you've encountered a dozen zombies. each time is the same. he pushes you behind him, kills them all quickly and the first time, you threw up. sukuna petted at your hair, crooning softly at you—tells you he'll take care of you. he'll make them go away.

"do you want me to kill you?" sukuna asks instead, smirking. he gestures for you to follow, beckoning you forwards with two fingers.

you shake your head, and then when you realize he can't exactly see, garble out a shaky, "no, b—but why would you help me if i can't. i can't give you anything"

a bathroom is where he's led you to. sukuna drags a small stool over using his foot, plants himself down on it. your mouth parts in surprise when the water turns on, sloshing loudly against the tub.

sukuna hums, tugs you forward—dragging you into his lap. he doesn't answer you, not yet, hands reaching up to tug your shoes off, then your socks. massages his bloodstained hands into your calves, skirting up to your knobby knees and higher still to unbutton your long skirt.

you make a small sound of objection, pushing your legs closed as your breath quickens. "sukuna? what are you, stop please?"

the hand that had been bracing you in his lap reaches down to push your legs apart, easily too easily, and when you try to squirm the hand unbuttoning your skirt hooks around your waist. pulls you back in. one swat against your thigh, underneath the fabric pooling around your waist has you stilling against him.

"just gettin' you clean, pretty girl" he says, petting your sides and your stomach. "gotta take a bath"

"s-sukuna" you hate the way your voice tapers off into a whimper, pushing at his arm again. "i can. i can bathe myself"

there's a snorting sound in your ear, rumbling deep from his chest. one of his hands reaches into your skirt, cups your ass, massages you through your plain cotton panties. and his other hand dances up to your hip, reaches up to hook thick fingers around the bands of your skirt and panties—tugging them down to your knees and then dropping them on the floor.

he makes another amused sound when your hands jump to cover your exposed mound. "you can't do anything by yourself. not if i don't help you"

your mouth pulls into a frown, anger swirling inside you. he says it like he knows you. like its the absolute truth. "that's not true. i can"

sukuna ignores you. like you're a child. reaches up under your shirt to unhook your bra, massaging your small breasts. then again at your spine. pulls your blazer off, then takes special care in buttoning each and every button on your shirt. reaches a hand over to turn the water off, to sprinkle in salts. he's methodical, sure in his movements.

the room fills with the smell of flowers, of almonds and honey. your naked, shivering in his lap from the cold and from the fear strumming along your nerves.

he could break you, but he handles you so gently. you find that your body is as taught as a wire. you wonder how long it'll take for that gentleness to go away. for him to hurt you. to kill you, even though he hasn't said he will.

"isn't that better?" he asks, kneeling beside the tub, washcloth running over your skin. the dirt and sweat and grime washes away from your skin, water turning a murky brown. "i know what you need, sweetheart. i'll take care of you. soft little thing like you, bet you spend your entire life being taken care of."

and then—and then he pulls away. you go to wrap your arms around your middle, thankful that it's over. that that's all he wanted. that your still alive.

your stomach lurches for an entire different reason when you hear the tell-tale sound of a zipper, loud in the quiet room. you hang your head, breathe loudly through your nose and wait. a handful of minutes pass by and then sukuna's hands grab at your waist, lifting you up enough for him to join you.

you turn around, facing his chest. a part of you is surprised that he let you. its becoming apparent to you now that you're going to be doing a lot less of what you want, now. the other part, bigger, pressing, is upset. angry. shameful. why are you giving up so easily? why aren't you fighting back?

the answer hurts more than you'd like to admit. you've never fought back. always gave up so easily. you do what your parents want, act how they think you should. make friends with the people your advisors approve of. sukuna had been so shamefully close to the truth—without anyone calling the shots for you, you're afraid of how little you know yourself.

"i can help" you say softly, grabbing the small washcloth from his hands. really, in all honestly, you just want this to be over faster. don't want him to draw it out anymore. "i can do some things"

sukuna hums, hand reaching out to play with your hair.

he's got a lot of tattoos. and he's big, with huge muscles, hard planes that seem to stretch on for miles. there's nicks, tiny scrapes and cuts and littering of scars everywhere.

"you can do some things," agrees sukuna, once you've finished and the water drains from the tub. he's naked still, and now there water isn't there to hide anything. but he's so large, everywhere, the scent of him filling up your head. "would you like to do something for me, sweet girl?"

you have an inkling of what he wants, and your twist your hands in your lap. you have no choice, even if he phrases it like you do. he could toss you back out there, with the dead roaming the streets, bloodshot and thirsty and eager. so you nod, and climb into his lap, tucking your face into his neck—legs spreading out on either side of his hips when he pushes a hand onto your lower back.

"if you'll be good, i can be good." sukuna says, tracing the knobs on your spine.

you swallow, afraid to ask, but knowing that you must. "you wwon't—you won't let. others?"

"smart girl. good girl, it'll be just me. no other man could take care of you like i could." sukuna's fingers dig into the meat of your thighs, spreads your legs apart to look down at your cunt. you've got ugly hips, like a boy. and you don't shave, and you hope the sparse layer of hair isn't enough to turn him off. you want him to like what he sees. so he. so he can take care of you. your stomach clenches painfully when he presses the flat of his palm on your hipbone.

"you got a boyfriend, pretty girl?"

you shake your head, still tucked into his neck as he continues his caressing and petting. his fingers inch closer to your cunt, rubbing at the outer lips.

sukuna smirks. you can feel it rather than see it. "of course you don't, good girl like you. probably focused on your studies. my little lawyer girl. fuck, sweetheart, you've got such a pretty little cunt. you touch yourself? use your words"

"y-yes—sometimes" you reply, hips jerking as his fingers pet around your clit. you can hear yourself breathing heavier now, and its so shameful, you're dirty—nasty. your parents would be so ashamed of you.

he presses a kiss to the top of your head. it's so so gentle, you think you could cry. "with your fingers, sweet girl?"

you nod against his skin again, but remember that he wants you to talk. to use words. you swallow around a soft sound, trying to close your legs. "yes. but—b-but not my fingers...i tried, and it didn't—it didn't feel, it was okay but..."

god. you hate the way your voice cracks and breaks. how you fumble and trip over words. he must think you stupid now, inept, and your scared you're turning him off, that he might go soft. you clamp your mouth shut, screwing your eyes closed with a tapering whimper as he continues to pet around your pussy.

you're getting wetter, slicking up nicely. sukuna drags your slick to your hole, pets around it. returns back to your clit and rubs faster—at an intensity you would've shied away from if it was just you. a sound escapes you, and you're desperate to choke it down, hips bucking up into his touch.

sukuna swats at your ass, not hard enough to hurt. but a warning. the next sound you make, you don't bother trying to cover it up. his fingers flick at your clit in reward, and then his middle finger begins to press inside.

"there we go, good girl, relax for me, fuck, you're so tight" he sounds like he's putting his cock in your...in your cunt. and not, not his fingers. you whimper, nails pricking into his skin when his thumb returns to your clit. he pulls out, presses back in, other hand guiding your hips down into a slow rhythm. "that feel good?"

"yyeah" you sigh, making another high noise when a second finger presses in next to the first. he's speeding up now, and the sound of slick spurting out of your cunt, his fingers slamming up into your hole, stretching you out and its so—its so dirty but he isn't stopping, and had your nails dig into the meat of his shoulders. he's reminded of a cat sticking its nails into its owner, and thats you, you're his little kitten, gushing slick all over his hands, making little uhuhuh noises, endless whimpers and gasps of his name. "su-su'kuna, 'kuna! ohhh, uh, uh—'kuna"

sukuna throws his head back, cock so hard its throbbing. like he could cum. like he could cum and all he's got is two fingers inside your weeping cunny. if you sound like this now, if you're arching like this now, hips bucking up and legs kicking like this now—

"fuck baby, thereee you go" he goads, thumb reaching up to massage at your clit. the coil in your lower belly tightens up, faster and faster and sweat burns down your neck and you can tell you're about to come and you try to—you try to get the words out, hand that was previously clawing at his skin reaching down to try and push his hand away. but sukuna's stronger than you, not stopping, grunting out in your ear "can't wait to get inside this cunt. gonna fuck her so good, gonna give my sweet girl what she needs, shit, baby, listen to you, sound so pretty—you're such a good girl. gonna cream around me so good. go ahead and cum pretty, let go, i'll take care of it"

that feeling draws up, tighter and tighter and to fight back a scream, you bite down on his neck, panting wetly against his skin. your legs kick out, squirming wildly in his lap and your orgasms crashes into you like a freight train.

sukuna—he. he keeps his promise. takes care of it, talks you through it, fingers still pumping inside and stretching you out. presses sweet kisses to the side of your face, doesn't even seem to feel your teeth digging in, free hand running up and down your spine. laughs, whenever you seem to come back to it.

his hand reaches up, pats your ass softly. "on your stomach baby, good girl"

it would have been harder, you think, if you hadn't already cum. but you're pliant, going easily to your stomach. you can feel his hands, hot like firey brands, pulling you up to your knees, gripping tightly onto your hips. he cants his cock up against your pussy, swipes it through your slick before reaching down to guide it inside.

your mouth parts on a loud moan, eyes rolling into the back of your head. he's so much bigger than his fingers, wide and girthy—filling you up so well. he pulls out, pushes in a little more, repeats the process until his balls push up against your ass with a soft smack that has you both groaning out.

his hands fall back to your hips, pulling all the way out before slamming back in. you let out a loud yelp, almost pained, sensitive from just cumming and he's thrusting into you with short, hard jerks of his hips, cock hitting your sweet spot so well, breaths coming out of you in aborted little gasps. you fall forwards into the pillows, moaning louder now and sukuna doesn't slow down—but he speeds up, goes harder, grunting softly underneath your whiny and wet noises.

"ffffuck, fuck, baby, yeah. good fucking girl. knew this'd be the tightest little cunt. squeezin me so tight, pretty girl" pours the dirty words from his mouth as his balls smack loudly against your ass. your cunt squelches, so wet from your orgasm and getting wetter still. your hands fly to his arms, whining, pushing blindly at him. its too much, too fast—you can't take it, and you whine again, hands clawing at the sheets trying to—"no, no, fuck. don't run from it baby. c'mon you can take it, i know my good girl can take it"

you can't speak, so you shake your head wildly, jerking forwards hard enough that his cock slips out and that makes you moan like... like a whore, turning on your side to catch your breath. but its only for a second, before sukuna's back, guiding you onto your front with a soft cooing noise—slipping back inside.

its a different angle now, with his arm around your waist, keeping your ass nice and pert against his cock as he drills into your weepy cunt. dirty talk spews from his mouth, telling you to take it, telling you how good you are, how tight your cunny is clamping around his cock. calls you a whore, a slut, and you whine loudly at that, hands spasming in the sheets as you shake your head wildly.

"i-i'm not," you protest, pushing your ass back, "not a slut, 'kuna, not—i'm not, please, pleasepleasepleaseples—"

sukuna laughs, sounding dark and sarcastic. "no, baby, i'm sorry—fuck, you're not a slut, just fffuck, you're just so good for me aren't you? sweet girl, taking it so well, pussy's so good baby, i'll keep you forever. keep you right here on my cock, mm. wanted to be gentle for my sweet girl, i'll treat her right next time—"

his thrusts send you up the bed, headboard knocking against the wall, and you can feel his face shove into the sheets next to your head as he speeds up. he's close to cumming, he tells you as his fingers intertwine with yours. he squeezes your hand tight, grunting lowly in your ear before pulling out so fast your body crumples to the bed like dead weight. he jerks his cock quickly, spurting cum over your ass and lower thighs.

you cough, swallow around your slightly hoarse throat. "they...su-'kuna, what if they...heard? and they come?"

sukuna's hands caresses your flank, every inch of bare skin he can reach. "didn't i tell you i'd take care of it sweetheart?"

you think you manage to nod, fighting against your eyes slipping shut. and you think, you think sukuna laughs again, promises again that he's not letting you go. and your heart clenches when you realize what it had been, the reason he had helped you in the first place.

and it makes you feel gross, makes you feel used. like a whore. and you fall into sleep. and the last thought on your mind is, he'll take care of it.

read a fanfic so good i started writing again.

FRIENDS WHO PLAY TOGETHER STAY TOGETHER ! ! — ARCANE

( tw ) f!reader. FF pairings. modern AU! masterbation. fingering. squirting. cunillings. dry humping. reader is kinda possessive in Vi’s. some yearning.

featuring. Violet, Caitlyn Kiramman & Mel Madarda

authors note. When you off that honey packet and ur home girl the only one in vicinity. Mel is so 🤭 I can’t she my type to a teeee. Anyways I’m about to go watch Act 2 WISH ME LUCK IM SCARED. Also idk how I feel about Kaits part I could do better 😔

VIOLET 

You and Vi were at another one of your friends' sleepovers. You didn't wanna come, you wanted to spend the Saturday just the two of you, alone. You hated sharing her attention, she was your best friend. You were each other's number one, why did you need other friends when you two were each other's everything. It was late now, almost everyone was sleeping or about to fall asleep when Vi crawled between the bodies of people to where you were laying. You didn’t notice until you felt the familiar embrace of her against your back. Despite yourself, you felt yourself relaxing against her body.  

“Are you still mad at me?” she whispered into your ear before placing a gentle kiss on your bare shoulder. “You know my favorite person. You have nothing to worry about.”  

“Yeah, whatever.” You grumbled. You weren't truly mad anymore but you knew what came next, what Vi did to reassure you that you were special to her. Her only best friend. You weren’t surprised when her hips rocked into your ass, when she pressed her tits against your back nor when her hand traveled underneath your oversized sleep shirt and cupped your breast. 

“Vi…” You sighed nuzzling into the arm underneath your head. She tightened her grip on your breast and rocked her hips into you. You push back harder and soon enough you guys find a rhythm. Your ass pushing down on her hips when she grinds up into you. Her callused palm grazes your nipple and you whine softly. She whimpers into your shoulder, finger going to your nipple when she pulls and twists. You wish her mouth was on you, you wish your mouth was on her. You turn your head to her “I love you the most. My favorite forever.”  

You feel her smile into your shoulder. “You're so beautiful, you know that?” translation: I love you too. 

MEL MEDARDA 

You couldn’t believe it. Your best friend’s tongue was inside of you. Licking you. Her lips were sucking on your clit, her teeth were biting your pussy lips. You could hear how wet you were—you could feel yourself leaking all over her face. “Mel!” You scream out into the dark room before slamming your hands over your own mouth. You don’t want anyone to see you—you don’t want her mother to see you, what a scene she would make. Seeing her daughter nose deep into her childhood best friend. Mel pulls her mouth off your clit with an embarrassingly loud pop. “Do you feel that? This is how you’re supposed to eat pussy darling.” She smiles when you just nod. Afraid that if you remove your hands from your mouth, you might confess something you don’t want.  

Plus, this was just a favor, strictly platonic, you were just friends. That’s why she was eating you out in the first place—you wanted to finally dip your toe into the dating scene but you were scared because you were inexperienced, you didn’t wanna leave your future partners disappointed in your nonexistence skills. And that’s where your best friend came in. Where you didn’t know anything about sex, she knew what felt like everything. Though you never saw her with anyone, she talked like she knew the ins and outs of men and women and she offered to teach you.  

“Now after you use your mouth and get them wet you wanna bring in your fingers, like this.” Mel grabs one of your thighs and pushes it down, giving her a better view of your dripping pussy before using her free hand and pushing a slender finger into you. You gasp. “I know you’ve fingered yourself before sweets, how many fingers have you shoved into this pretty pussy?” 

You whimper, hesitantly removing your hands. “T-two Melly.” You answer bashfully, using the nickname you gave her when you were children. She hums and adds another. You bite your lip, lower abdomen clenching when she curls them into your spongy g-spot. 

“Now pay attention to me alright?” She leans down to place a kiss on your pubs, leaving a trail of light kisses until she reaches your clit. She moves her hand out of you and a fast pace, fingers curling when she knuckles deep. You moan at the feeling of her hand pounding into you.  

She gives your clit a few kitten lips before wrapping her full lips around the swollen area. She bits hard enough for you to wince before she starts sucking. You feel yourself coming apart on her face before you can stop yourself. She hurriedly removes her fingers, mouth sucking you even harder when you feel liquid gush out of you. You grab the back of her head and scream. You can’t stop it, you don’t want to. You throw your thigh over her head and curl your foot into her back, still riding the high. When your pussy stops shooting the mysterious liquid out Mel’s fingers find themselves back inside, four this time. 

You feel tears collecting in the corner of your eyes, as she finger-fucks you. Mel pops back off your abused clit to whisper praises, good girl, you're doing so good, look at how well you take me, you feel heavenly, and when she goes back to playing with your clit you know you don’t want anyone to fuck you unless it’s her. Maybe you can ask her to teach you how to give hickeys next. 

CAITYLYN KIRAMMAN 

You were horny. Cait was horny. You both kept glancing at each other when you thought the other wasn’t looking, sussing out what the other was thinking. The movie you guys were watching was a rating away from being straight porn. When it was over you, both decided to call it a night. It was late she said. You guys had class tomorrow you said. When the lights turned off, you both said goodnight and laid down in your shared bed. You two were so close and loved being near each other that on the first day of the semester you pushed your twin beds together. Oh, how you were regretting that idea now. All you wanted to do was fuck yourself. You knew you weren’t going to fall asleep without an orgasm and so after twenty minutes when you thought Cait was asleep, you found your hand traveling into your boy shorts. You sighed in relief when your fingers grazed your throbbing clit. You rubbed it for a few seconds before shoving two fingers into yourself. 

That relief was short-lived when you heard a breathy moan that didn’t come from you. You tensed up and stopped. When you didn't hear anything—maybe she was making those noise in her sleep—you slowly started to move your fingers in and out, palm rubbing against your clit. You bite your lip to stifle a moan and turn onto your back. You could barely move your fingers in and out lying on your side. You part your legs and moan when you finally hit your G-spot. You're so horny but your imagination isn't cutting it. Opening your eyes you turn your head to find the outline of your best friend who was the star in some of your fantasies, her hourglass figure would for sure spark a fantasy. When your eyes adjust to the dark you're shocked to see Cait staring back at you, her blanket pooling at her hips when you could see her hand abruptly stop moving. Your Cait was masturbating too, in the same bed as you. A grin spreads along your face. 

“I-I’m not—”  

“I am.” You whisper, pushing your blanket off you. Her eyes immediately latch onto where your fingers are slowly pushing in and out. Your other hand comes up to your tank top where you push your shirt down. Your breasts spill out. Cait’s face turns into a tomato, eyes widening even more than they already are. She doesn't remove her gaze from your breasts when she starts fingering herself again. You watch her mouth part into a small O and her eyes roll to the back of her head. You imagine what she looks like riding your face and start to speed up. Your other hand twisting your nipples.  

“I-m gonna..” Cait whimper and spasms for a few seconds. You moan at the look on her face, so pleased with herself, and soon enough you're squeezing your eyes and coming too.  

𓆩ഒ𓆪 tagging system !

ꕤ*. as you may know, this blogs contains quite a bit of dark content. i always make sure to label them at the beginning of fics. but if you wish to mute the tags entirely

✭. dc // ✭. yandere // ✭.specifichere (ie ✭.stalking)

i have the same tagging layout for fandoms and characters as well !

ꕤ*. outside of fics, i use the following tags, which you can block as needed :

✭.malpractice = me talking and blahblahblah-ing !

✭.commonlaw = reblogs

✭.amicuscuraie = asks !

ꕤ*. as far as requests go, i'm open to anything except the following :

ᘒ incest (i might hear you out on step or pseudo) ⊹ scat ⊹ urine ⊹ fwb troupe ⊹ period sex ⊹ physically abusive relationships

so where are all the mel fics guys...

"life spring"

— gojo satoru

tags ට lite somno (consensual), praise kink, pussy job, riding, vanilla and full of so much love its gross, morning sex, lowkey sub satoru, established marriage, fix it fic of sorts

a/n ට i listened to hozier the entire time i wrote this. so thats how you guys know im serious about the vanilla sex.

───⠀౨ৎ this is the married life that gojo deserves and it's his and sometimes he can't believe its all real. (1.4k wc)

the room glows like pure gold, spun from the sun's waves.

its warm and it smells like home and satoru's eyes blink open slowly before shutting again. there are other colors too ; pretty cherry blossom pinks, hazy greens and blue the color of the sea. a gift from the first years — from nobara in particular. it's supposed to mimic stained glass.

satoru wants to cling to his dream for a moment longer. a boat, rocking gently at sea. you and your smile as you took turns pushing each other overboard. but the fuzzy feeling is lifting and faster by the second.

a bird cries and sings its morning song. satoru opens his eyes and grins.

the first thing he always sees when he wakes up is you. whether thats when your curled up under his chin like you want to burrow up under your skin. or if its like now—with your face inches away from his, eyes screwed shut in pleasure, grinding down on his cock.

satoru reaches out to pull you down, and breathes your name against your lips. not quite kissing, just breathing the same air. bucks up once and twice, smiling at your cheeky grin. like you aren't more undone than he is.

"'morning, satoru" you giggle, kissing him finally, sounding breathless.

his fingers find your waist, secretly delighting in your bareness. hums appreciatively as your weeping cunt rocks down against his cock—fully hard now. "its a very good morning"

he has no shame at all in admitting he loves this—loves when you take charge. when you go for what you want. you had spent so long being meek, trying to blend into the background. hoping to fade away. but you've come into your own, and satoru likes to think he's apart of that. how he gives you the stability, the comfort, to chase what you're after.

"did you cum yet?" satoru asks, fingers tracing shapes into your skin.

you shake your head, lip caught between your teeth. but you know to keep your eyes open—focused completely on him.

"that's my good girl" satoru says, proud. you let out a shaky whine, pace faltering. "my pretty wife, so wet for me"

your hands come down to frame his chest, nails pretty against his skin as your hips grind in tight little circles that have him groaning out. and then your hand grabs his dick—holding him right where you want him, oh god—grinding more firmly against your clit.

"that's what you needed baby? needed my dick, didn't you?" satoru asks, like you both don't already know the answer. pleasure zips up his spine as your movements grow faster, sloppier. the pressure's enough to keep him on the edge, enough to make him feel like he could cum, maybe—but doesn't. it's the best. his hand rubs your back, moves your hair out of your eyes. "i don't mind sweetheart, its your dick. my hot, perfect wife"

you sob, muscled thighs trembling as you chase your high. your nails dig into his chest and he knows your searching for it now—the perfect stroke that'll finally make you cum.

"my perfect sorcerer wife is so strong" satoru whispers, gently caressing your stomach. "so beautiful. i'm so lucky. you gonna cum soon aren't you, baby? gonna cum messy too?"

you nod, another broken sob falling from your lips, fractured uh-uh-huhhh, satoru. you change your angle, and suddenly the wet sounds of your pussy sliding against his cock fill the room.

"yeah," he says, nodding, a wistful sigh leaving his lips. "can you hear yourself baby, hear how fucking wet and sloppy you are?"

and that's what does it for you—slumping down into his neck with a wail, as you take his hand and lead it down to your cunt. he knows what you want immediately, rubbing you fast and hard as you cum.

"you did so good," he says, sticking his fingers into his mouth to suck off the taste. your hips shake and quiver with the intensity of your orgasm. you don't answer for a long minute, and he can feel the soft puffs of air against his skin.

"hi" you breathe, finally, smiling at him

"hi" he says back, like a dork. you snuggle in closer, fingers brushing up softly against his cheek. satoru smiles and briefly closes his eyes. he can feel the smile breaking out onto his face, impossible to stop. never did he think he could be here, and have this : softness, laughter and smiles. peace.

"mm, and what are you laughing at?" you ask, leaning up on one elbow.

satoru opens his eyes. grins cheekily. "you. i was thinking your head looked like a raisin"

your mouth opens and closes in disbelief. the hand that been so gently caressing his face moments ago pinches his cheek sharply. and then you get that familiar mischievous look in your eye.

"no wait—" he protests, far too late. you descend upon him, jabbing your fingers into his sides, and his stomach and the side of his neck—where he is most ticklish. satoru writhes on the bed, loud peals of laughter bursting from him as he tries every yielding term in the book.

"oh yeah not so funny now is it?" you goad, although the sound of his laughter drowns you out.

"okay, okay, okay—"

a loud thud, and satoru falls of the bed and crashes to the floor in a heap of too-long limbs.

"oh shit" you mutter, and he doesn't need six eyes to tell him that you're covering your mouth with your hand to hide your laughter. you lean over the edge of the bed, eyes crinkling in the corner. age has done well by you. "baby, are you okay?"

"i think i broke my back" satoru groans, and massages his lower back to nail the point in further. "i'm getting so old"

"oh please" you snort, rolling your eyes, "you're only 39"

"that means i already have one foot in the grave!"

you roll your eyes again, pulling him up on the bed. "yes, you old old man. practically dead already"

"its been a good run" satoru says dramatically, tossing his head back onto the pillow. "i'm going to die happy now. 10 long years married to the love of my life"

"mmm" you hum, noncommittally, reaching over to feel up on his cock. his back straightens and he gets hard again embarrassingly fast. "do you think you have enough life left to handle me riding you?"

satoru pretends to think about it, massaging your right tit, slightly smaller than the left—fitting so perfectly into his hand. "try not to squeeze my soul out of my body and we're good"

"good," you say, settling on top of him again "i want you in me"

"fuck—baby, you can't just—" satoru gasps, as you breach yourself with his cock in one hard thrust. all coherent thought tumbles from his mind, gone with the wind, when he feels your warm cunt flutter around him and then squeeze. "you're doing that on purpose"

"am i?" you ask cheekily, smirking, riding him hard and fast. your ass smacks down against his thighs loudly, and when he dares to look at the place where the two of you are connected—he sees the ring of white around the base and has to screw his eyes shut to stop himself from cumming. he groans, tossing his head back, arm shielding his face from view.

ten years, and he still has to fight from busting his load the minute you get your cunt around him. ten years and he still keens, still mumbles shaky gasps and praises into the air. hands squeezing delicately around your hips, occasionally going to cup your ass—to help you along.

not that you need it. you grind down, hand massaging and squeezing at his pecs, as your go in tight circles around his dick. then you rise back up, letting him slip all the way out before slamming back down again.

you lean down next to his ear, taking his lobe between your teeth and biting gently. "baby?"

"y-yeah?" satoru asks, voice high, thrusting up into your tight heat in short aborted pumps of his hips. "you need something from me?"

"mmm" you moan in affirmation and he can feel you smiling against his cheek. "i want you to cum in me now"

satoru's grip on your hips turns bruising. he holds you still and shoves his dick into you over and over again, loud in the silent room. so good he can't think, broken praises and curses spilling from his lips. he brings you down and slams up into you one last time before doing exactly what you ask of him.