꒰e ⊹ ˚ . . quick n' dirty!! ⁺ 𓈒 ꒰꒱ ♡ ･ ✧ Erix/Eris, 30s, she/her/hers, south asian (an ABCD bengali to be exact), adhd, woman in stem, multifandom writer but primarily jjk and lads right now. mostly i’m a darkfic gal, but i dabble a bit into everything and even draw and make gifs / edits on exceptionally rare occasions! Prev. usernames: arcanarix
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This blog contains a LOT of triggering content not meant for the eyes of minors. Viewer discretion's advised!
notes. Most of the X Reader content I write is written from an AFAB perspective, but many can be interpreted as gender neutral as well. However, I know that my writings can tread into "OC" territory so you can always interpret the MC of a lot of my works as just that- the MC and it doesn't have to be 'you' but you are reading through MC's filter.
Sometimes I'll write Canon/Canon or original stuff!
Hope you enjoy whatever silly ideas this monkey brain of mine decides to share! Join me and let’s match each other’s freak 💋
Every Sunday, Suguru’s eyes always find you. Even amidst the crowd of the congregation. The epitome of the perfect daughter, you arrive in a white dress, hair neatly kept, posture straight, and a demeanor that screams good girl.
Your voice is so soft-spoken, sweet and gentle that Suguru thinks he could listen to you talk for days. Even your laughter resonates like chimes dancing in the wind. Any sound from you feels like music to his ears.
And he hates that.
He hates how you’re soft-spoken, yet say the most lewd things with that same gentle mouth. You speak sweetly of praise and scripture, reciting verses with devotion, only to lean in later and whisper the most unholy things into his ear... but any sound from you is music to his ears. Even your moans.
Polite. Friendly. Always ready to be of service. Suguru never hesitates to drive you to Bible study whenever you ask. He remembers the first time his parents introduced you. He remembers how timid you were, how your hands folded in front of you, how you warmed up to him so easily.
You’re polite, alright.
He hates how meek you look every time you ask him for a ride. He hates how he can never say no, no matter how hard he tries. How could he, when it always ends the same way with your mouth on him in the parked car, your hands gripping his hair as he eats you out exactly how you like it afterward?
Kind and warm, and anyone at church would vouch for that. Your presence is the joy they look forward to during outreach events. Not once has anyone felt left out with you tending to them, smiling, listening.
You’re so warm it makes it hard for him to pull out of you. The way you wrap around his cock always makes him hesitate. You’re so pretty and so soft, your body a sin all on its own.
Suguru is a faithful follower of the Lord. He rarely lies or does anything he isn’t morally aligned with.
Which is ironic, considering he’s currently confined to a tiny bathroom with you.
He can never deny the strange pleasure he takes in watching you kneel before him, lips parted as you take him into your mouth.
You lift your head to look at him, drool pooling at your chin.
“Am I doing well?”
Suguru runs his thumb along your cheek, wiping the tears gathering at the corner of your eyes.
His smile is uncertain when he nods. “Yeah. I’m almost there.”
You smile at that, tightening your hand around his throbbing length. He starts spiraling when you pump him slowly, tongue circling the tip, cleaning off the precum that’s already oozing.
He hates the sight of the cross hanging on the wall in front of him. Hates how your delicate cross necklace sways against your chest as you work him.
“You taste so good,” he mutters.
You lick along his shaft in a long stroke, tongue grazing his balls before returning to the tip, sucking him in completely. He watches himself disappear into your mouth like that.
“You like this, don’t you, Sugu?” you murmur against him, making his breath hitch. “You like the idea that anyone could walk in on us.”
As much as he wants to savor it, time is running out. You only have five minutes before people start wondering where you went. Suguru’s fingers thread gently through your hair, until they don’t. He pulls his cock from your mouth.
“I don’t like sharing you,” he mutters, jaw clenched. “I like sharing my blessings. Not you.”
“Ah.” Your lips part slightly. He’s never been this honest before. “I’m all yours, though,” you say with a smile. “It’s only you, Sugu.”
“I don’t know if I believe that.” His mouth tightens. “You’re one hell of a liar.”
You sigh, knowing there’s no explaining yourself mid foreplay. Instead, you turn toward the sink, catching his gaze in the mirror as you hike your skirt up. You spread your legs and push your underwear aside, inviting him without a word.
“Keep fucking me like that and I’ll show you I’m yours,” you say with a smirk. “But let’s keep my virginity.”
Suguru scoffs. “Like raw dogging your ass doesn’t count as fucking.”
You grin. “Not in my book.”
In retrospect, maybe it was fate he should’ve avoided entirely. Maybe he should’ve never crossed paths with you at all. And yet, he finds himself drawn to you, specifically, to the space between your legs.
You watch him through the mirror, eyes dark with lust, pussy throbbing as he spits into his hand to slick his cock. He grabs your hips and pushes inside you.
“God—”
“Shut up,” he snaps, thrusting again, loving the way he disappears into you.
“Yes yes yes,” you whimper. “Harder, please— Jesus—” You gasp as he fills you completely.
Suguru pulls your hair back, arm wrapping around your waist as he slams into you harder, faster, and exactly as you asked. You rest your head against his shoulder while he leaves wet kisses along your neck.
“H-holy fuck, you’re doing me so good,” you choke, eyes fluttering as you catch your reflection. “God— fuck!”
“Stop saying that,” he warns.
“Christ—” you moan, nails digging into his arm as sensation floods you.
He keeps pounding into you, one hand on your waist, the other guiding your movements as you clutch the back of his head. You arch into him, meeting his thrusts, and he pushes even deeper.
His grip tightens. One hand slips between your legs, tracing your slit before flicking your clit, then sliding a finger inside.
Suguru rests his chin on your shoulder, eyes locked on your face as expressions flicker. “Feels good, huh?”
“Y-yeah,” you whisper. “Put another finger in.”
“I bet they don’t do it like I do,” he says smugly, adding a second finger.
When your body starts to shudder, he adds a third, stretching you and hitting everything at once.
“They don’t— I— you—” Your words fall apart. He loves that—except when you curse like that. “God damn, Sugu.”
“I said stop it,” he breathes sharply. Stop using God’s name.
You cling to the back of his head, knots tightening low in your stomach as heat floods his face.
“That feels so good— shit,” you mewl, clenching around him. “Sugu—”
“You’re too loud,” he hisses.
He hates that he doesn’t know your favorite color. He hates that he doesn’t know what ice cream you like. But he knows your body well enough to know you’re close.
“Come inside,” you whisper in his ear. “Wanna feel it inside.”
Pleasure crashes over you, stars bursting behind your eyes. All you feel is his breath against your skin, the heat of him as he pulls out, cum spilling down your legs.
It’s ironic how he hates that the only thing he’s learned about you is that you like it rough, and that you’ll never see the gates of heaven. There are many reasons Suguru could find to hate you. But above all, he hates that you’re his favorite sin.
every time suguru touched you during spars until you got the hint
content: 2006!suguru, yearning, strong!gn!reader (has hair), obligatory straddling (i'm just a girl okay), as slowburn as i could get a 1.4k fic
The first time Suguru touched you, he didn’t even mean to. It was like a magnetic pull—invisible, unassuming—that tempted his hand. And it was nothing. Just a quiet brush along your arm to point out the scratch you earned yourself while breaking your fall from a particularly reckless dodge. It didn’t mean anything and he certainly didn’t intend to think about it later when he spotted a leaf stuck to your back. He didn’t mind the first touch. It was nothing.
Yet, he hesitated at the second chance, confused why he even thought about it. Why did he feel like it’d mean something if he reached for you? You and him are… colleagues. Friends? You’d become friends. Still his eyes had lingered on that leaf until a shake of your shoulder dislodged it from the fabric of your shirt.
Something in him stirred as he watched it fall and realized that he had wanted to be the one to brush it off of you.
The second time, Suguru wasn’t so ignorant. He was aware of his indulgence as he clapped you on the shoulder for a spar well-fought. He was out of breath, his defenses a little lowered, the inhibitions falling back just enough. You looked at him with a hint of surprise at the gesture, as one did when they realized a new milestone of friendship was reached. You punched his shoulder in return as you were just as out of breath as he was. Few things in jujutsu sorcery were as satisfying as a well-matched, good-spirited spar.
Suguru almost reached for your fist when it connected to his shoulder, maybe a left-over instinct of just having fought, maybe an urge to prolong the connection it made with him just a little bit. He looked after you only briefly as you excused yourself back to the dorms and calmed himself with a stretching session after.
He started looking forward to your spars. Sparring with Satoru was the kind of challenging he could not quite match, but facing off with you spiked an additional kind of adrenaline in his body. His longing for it only grew, the little extra thrill buzzing in his chest when you came particularly close for a left hook he had trouble dodging.
He made a point of catching your fist then. It hurt a little, the angle was a touch off, but he caught it and he reveled in the feeling of your raw power. The warmth behind it. Your cursed energies pressing against each other in a struggle to come out stronger than the other. You hadn’t expected his sudden move and the surprise showed on your face for only a moment before your features twisted into the wicked grin of a person well-entertained. Both of you knew catching a fist was a stupid move, strategically. It left his hand just as occupied as yours, your knuckles digging into his palms in a way that made him notice your other fist flying at him just a fraction too late.
Suguru landed on the cold hard ground that day, his hand and midriff in equal pains but his chest suspiciously tense. Like it was stretched full of air he had trouble letting go of. It only grew tighter when your hand appeared above his face as he lay on his back, your brows knotted in concern for him. Suguru rarely stayed on the ground, but that day he relished in the sight of your hand freely offered up to him, and he swallowed just a bit at the realization of how far gone he must have been.
He was sure it wasn’t just a fond friendship anymore when he fixed your hair for you. A particularly difficult scuffle had winded your hair around the button of his uniform, forcing your head close to his chest. Standing with his front to your back, it was on him to try and untangle the mess as complaints and pained whines rained from your lips. He’d seen you endure the excruciation of an impaled arm better than you were handling the tugging at your hair. Maybe you were playing it up to hurry him, he wouldn’t put that past you. But standing so close to you without having strong limbs fly at him, he couldn’t bring himself to respond to the urgency.
His fingers trembled. From the fighting, he told himself, surely, as they did after physical exhaustion. But it didn’t explain the timidness of his touch. His awareness of the scent perfuming your hair that he’d never noticed before. It was a little mean of him, the way he enjoyed his fingers wrapping around your hair, sliding along the strands, caressing them with his fingertips. He inspected the knot before he moved any of your hair. To lessen the pain, he thought. Not entirely because he enjoyed the touch so close to your head. He could feel the heat emanating from your body, not quite reaching him, as if teasingly. Giving him just an idea of what it’d feel like against his own. He had to lick his lips because they’d gotten far too dry as he stood there, distracted.
In the end, the tangle was an easy one to undo. Regrettably, even with all his stalling, the moment didn’t last long enough.
The final time, Suguru just got lucky. You’d asked him to practice a new move with you which involved kicking yourself off of a tree trunk and using the jump momentum to swing at him. He used one of his curses to throw you against said tree to increase the difficulty, per your request. Suguru himself needed to train his ability to sense incoming attacks from behind, usually relying too much on his curses instead of cursed energy detection, so this request was perfect. A competitive score-board followed shortly after, keeping track of who could best whom more often while training their signature weaknesses.
It didn’t look good for you. Your move was a lot harder, yet it had taken Suguru no effort at all to rope you into this senseless competition. A fact that kept his lips stretched in a grin every time he managed to block you before you got him.
For hours you hurled yourself at him. The more sluggish your movements became, the more competitive you grew. You wanted to win that last point to tip the scales, but you slipped instead of jumping, flailing through the air. Suguru, by then, understood your timing better than he could sense your energy, but he turned in time all the same. Just in time to catch sight of your face, mid-air, in trouble. Not enough time to dodge the full body slam that knocked you both into the ground.
He slid across the ground a little on his back before coming to a halt, and it took him another moment to realize you had weathered the fall better than him. Amazing, even. Dizzying, maybe. You’d managed to keep upright, landing straddling his abdomen, holding yourself up by means of his chest. You looked just as disoriented as he felt as you hovered above him. He needed multiple moments to process the view. There was a good distance between your upper bodies, but he grew increasingly aware of your warm thighs running up his sides, not to mention your weight on his core. You stared at him as he, for the first time, got lost in your eyes.
He allowed himself the moment of indulgence. You insisted this technically counted as a point for you as he argued you didn’t really get him, though. Challenging you was the easiest thing in the world for him, and the only way he could think to entertain you while he savored your presence a little longer. It lulled him into carelessness. It was an urge so primal, he couldn’t really stop himself.
His thumbs brushed your ankles before he could think better of it. When he realized, he looked at you, and you were already looking back at him in a way that whispered that you’d noticed it wasn’t so innocent anymore. What did it say about you, the fact that you didn’t move despite it? Were you so safe around Suguru you wouldn’t pay any mind to a thing he did, or could you be welcoming his touch? Boldly, his hands wrapped around your ankles, dragging his thumb across your skin. He searched your face for answers but the haughty smirk was back on your lips.
“I totally won this.”
Suguru could only smile then, feeling your warmth against him—the very sensation he’d wondered about for a while, now in his grasp. “No, you didn’t.”
a/n: if you reached this point, know that i made the hair scene hair-type-agnostic bc i have curly hair and AINT NOBODY RUNNING THEIR GRUBBY HANDS THROUGH MY LOCKS
bully!gojo just looooooves to eat you out like im sorryyyyyy
his big hands push the insides of your thighs apart, allowing him access to the juicy goodness that is your body. he doesn't care if you're shaved, bleeding, dirty, nothing is getting between him and your clit.
and he's a real eater, no bullshit. his tongue is fierce the way is lathers you up and down, sucking on your skin until your legs are shaking around his head. his tongue explores your hole, all while his eyes glance up at you, hooded with desire.
he stays down there for what feels like forever, not listening to you when you tell him to stop or try to pull away. you've learnt to just lay there and take it as he steals every orgasm from you, over and over again, until your legs are twitching and your only sounds are whimpers.
when he's done, he pants softly and licks his lips whilst plunging his fingers into you hole that's now so pliant and open and ready. he spends moments admiring it before finally pushing his weeping cock into you.
he has to make sure his good girl is ready for him, doesn't he?
bestfriend!geto who secretly has a crush on you but disguises it as bullying.
bestfriend!geto who hates seeing you with other men that aren’t him, especially if it’s a date.
bestfriend!geto who’ll take you shopping just for said date; dragging him with you from store to store to put together the prettiest outfit, including victoria’s secret to snatch up a very specific pair of panties that you’ll claim is “for later”.
bestfriend!geto who you’ll facetime later that day with the very outfit he bought for you; he’ll ask you to give him a little spin, your skirt unknowingly flying up and revealing the lace panties you have underneath.
bestfriend!geto whose cock twitches in his pants when he sees what’s under your skirt.
bestfriend!geto who’s absolutely seething at the thought of your pathetic date getting to touch what’s his.
bestfriend!geto who’s left alone with his thoughts, and his hand, once you’re out on your date.
bestfriend!geto who jerks off to the thought of you wearing that same pair of panties for him, begging him to touch you, to finally claim you.
bestfriend!geto who struggles to keep himself quiet as he’s thrusting into the palm of his hand, mind racing about how pretty you’d look underneath him, crying on his cock about how ‘it’s too big’.
bestfriend!geto who’d coo you, rub your clit to soothe the discomfort of his huge cock barging into your tight haven, whispering words of “doing so good for me, baby”, “taking me so well, angel. feels so good—shit,” “been dreaming of being inside this pussy, better than i imagined.”
bestfriend!geto who, when he cums, imagines he’s filling your pussy up instead; hot, thick ropes of his cum painting your insides like a piece of art.
bestfriend!geto who you text after the date, telling him it was boring and the guy barely made you laugh, only talking about himself the whole time—self centered fucker.
bestfriend!geto who’ll roll his eyes when you tell him about your date, mumbling something about how “you shouldn’t have went out with him in the first place…” “huh?” “hm? nothing.”
bestfriend!geto who has no idea you feel for him the same way he does about you.
bestfriend!geto who has no idea you wore those lace panties for him, in hopes that he’d tell you to stay with him instead of going out on that date, wishing he’d pin you down and tear the flimsy fabric right off with his teeth.
bestfriend!geto who has no idea you only went on that date to make him jealous; to make him notice you.
mission accomplished.
three posts in less than twenty four hours? i deserve some head for this
thinking about satoru doing your henna / mehndi . . . you ask him to do your dominant hand for you (bc lord knows u cannot do it yourself to save ur life) and he obliges, telling you he's got it allllll under control. though, when he gets to it, you dont think youve ever seen him more focused in his life. theres a little crease between his eyebrows and his tongue slightly pokes out as he steadies the cone with his free hand. you cant really see how he's doing because hes quite literally hunched over your hand. when he's done you're in awe. i mean, what did you expect? its gojo satoru, of course he would be good at henna just like how he's good at everything else he does. the lines are crisp and even, but when you take a closer look at the design you can see a tiny little "S" hidden amongst the swirling petals. and when you ask him about hiding his initial in your mehndi he blushes. "i've done some research," he smiles. "thats what you do for weddings, right?" and he js sooo right, and you kiss him because hes so thoughtful and youre so happy that he appreciates your culture <333
Geto is an obsessive person. That is an objective fact.
You are his biggest obsession. That’s another objective fact. YOU are his obsession, his sole muse, his one and only exception, and motivation, and frankly his only reason to breathe now. Everything else-- this war or something he keeps speaking of, the cult, whatever-- is secondary to you.
And with his obsession comes a plethora of other fixations you must endure because everything circles back to the fact that he simply cannot allow a moment to go by without you knowing how much he cannot leave you alone.
The intensity of his gaze tracing your body up and down is hardly enough of a warning before he practically pounced on you the minute he strode into the room and saw you in the middle of slipping into your pajamas. Pinning both your wrists above your head with just one of his larger hands elicits a small yelp out of you before kissing into your neck while murmuring something about how much he longed for you the entire day.
It's not like he doesn't have access to you every waking moment of his or your life. He can call off anything at the snap of his fingers and report to you whenever he desires, but he tries to be a dutiful man.
You on the other hand no longer have a life outside of this cult since he's taken you, once an unsuspecting, bright-eyed client, who merely fell into his trap, hook, line, and sinker.
His other hand slides up your hip and stops to fondle your exposed breasts, and your lips part into a low whimper.
"L-Lord Geto, I... !"
He cuts you off with a soft kiss, alarmingly so. The tenderness of the act is such a juxtaposition to who he is that your eyes grow wide. He pulls back for a moment, violet pupils darkening while drinking in your state.
"If you dare deny me the pleasure of having you, I'll be sure to make you regret it," he growls, catching his breath with his face flushed. "I missed you."
At a loss of words, pathetically, you can feel your throat and mouth dry up as you try to muster up any kind of response that could please him.
Rather than waiting, he buries his head between your breasts, kissing between the soft mounds, sucking a nipple into his mouth and grinding the little bud between his teeth--
"--Aah! Please, at least, take me to bed?"
Geto graciously accepts your request. Trailing his lips down your stomach as he rests you on the mattress, yanking your pajama bottoms off and parting your legs--
"--G-geto...?" Why do you still act like you don't expect this...?
"Shush now, pet," he chides while his fingers prod at the cotton of your panties, grinning as a growing dampness forms there. "I've yet to have my fix of you. Won't you indulge me?"
The look on his face gives you no room to challenge him.
Ⳋ᧙ ꒰ CW ꒱ NSFW, dubcon/noncon, yandere satosugu training a fem!darling to take them b/c her pelvic floor is too tight, treatment, oral (fem. receiving), fingering, foreplay, don't be mistaken these two are so far from actually gentle. [WC: ~1K]
a/n: i suffer from tight hips... also i can't seem to stick to a format
"We have to go slow with this," Geto starts, while gesturing for you to rest on your back. "Get in those poses we went over earlier. Those are supposed to help."
Clearly, he isn't pleased that he has to take baby steps with you, but seeing as there's nothing else he can do to get you relaxed enough to take him or Gojo--both two men with impossibly huge dicks at that--he's had no other alternative than to be a little merciful.
As merciful as a psychotic kidnapper can be, you guess, because their only other goal is to properly break into you.
"Which one?" you manage to ask, not daring to meet his eyes--the way they always seem void of emotion except when he evokes reactions out of you sends shivers down your spine. "We went through several."
Not only has he taken the liberty of looking up pelvic floor treatments, he's putting you through pelvic floor therapy. This can't be real, and yet it is.
Gojo's too impatient to walk you through this, but he's still hovering nearby, lazily fisting his cock while keeping his gaze locked on you both from his corner of the room.
"Butterfly pose," he grunts, fisting your thighs and yanking you closer toward the edge of the bed, and helping you into positioning your legs into a diamond. The roughness transmutes into a strange gentleness against the fleshier parts of your inner thighs, thumbs rubbing soothing circles into your bare skin. "And we're breathing through it."
His eyes drop to your exposed pussy, your hole already fluttering around nothing which must a confounding factor because your hole is actually too tight even for a finger to get in there. And you don't have to look up to know that he's practically salivating at the thought of breaking into it.
It's not just because you're too fucking scared to even be aroused at all, because even in those circumstances, someone should be able to take something in there. Be it a finger. A toy. Anything! It's something you've struggled with in the past with previous partners and everything. Sex is downright hard, uncomfortable, and painful which shouldn't be the case at all, only because you can't even get a finger inside of you.
The fact that out of everyone who has ever taken an interest in you like this, to actually work past the problem, is someone who, not only kidnapped you but is intent on keeping you as their pretty pet for the rest of your life is downright tragic.
Of course that's your life. Of fucking course it is.
"That's it," he coos, "I can see you're trying, darling. I told you we're going to go slow, and all I'm going to try today is a finger inside."
He wiggles his pinky for reference with an easy grin. "And of course, we'll add some extra cushion. Don't worry."
"Maybe it'll help if we used both our mouths?" Gojo suggests, and Geto scoffs.
"You had your chance to help her out. I'm taking care of this for now."
"Rude."
You clench your eyes shut. It hasn't even been fifteen minutes into the pose, and Geto's patience is clearly wearing thin too because now he's helping you into a straddling pose, pinning your ankles over your shoulders.
"Satoru, hold her down while I take care of her," Geto commands before his nose tickles your clit, making you breath hitch the moment his lips sucked your folds into his mouth.
The bed dips a little behind your head, and your eyes snap open again. In your line of vision is Gojo's stupid face grinning down at you while his hands replace Geto's to keep you firm in place.
"Breathe, Princess, we don't want to hurt you. Much," he snickers while kissing your temple. You wish you could make a smart retort but words die on your tongue. Geto's hands rest over the jiggly flesh of your ass cheeks while his tongue laps and laps at your pussy. "We want you to relax, and let us make you feel good. It hurt our feelings learning you never had good sex, but now we're here to remedy that."
Geto makes such loud slurping noises while digging his tongue in there that you bite down on your lip to suppress an embarrassed whine. Gojo pouts down at you.
"Come on, don't be like that," he croons, "He's being so generous so the least you could do is not hide those pretty noises you make."
At that, you feel Geto take an experimental dip of his tongue into your hole, already starting to suck just that wet muscle inside and he groans.
"Fuck." Talking with his mouth full. Disgusting. "I know how badly you want to be fucked, but we need to be gentle with you."
"Yeah, we'd love to fuck you so hard you're seeing stars but look at how much you're struggling to handle his mouth," Gojo taunts, "You gotta relax. Breathe, we said. Breathe."
And you're fucking trying to, but there's no way you can find it in you to relax when--
"--G-geto!" you yell, hands reaching for his shoulders as he inches more of his tongue inside of you. "Please, please..."
He laughs, retracting his tongue for a moment to prod your opening with the tip of his pinky. His tongue joins the flexible digit, rimming the hole while his pinky goes inside--
"--aah!"
"Shhhh," Gojo consoles, "Just relax into the feeling, alright? We have to get you relaxed enough to open up."
"Please... it's..." Geto's tongue lapping at your clit while inching the rest of his finger inside of you isn't unpleasant but it still feels... "It's..."
"Working," Gojo breathes with a look of approval. "You feel that, baby? That's how good we're going to get to make you feel when we make more progress with this."
"Maybe we might even work up to two fingers tonight," Geto remarks while pumping his finger, slow, gentle. "How does that feel? Does it still hurt?"
Your eyebrows furrow at the intrusion, and you dare to take a peek. It's just his pinky. The tip of his tongue is barely grazing around the rim.
"It's... okay," you mutter, "I-it.. feels g-good."
Geto grins in approval.
"See? Told you to trust us," Gojo purrs, and Geto doesn't quicken his pace, keeping to that gentle rocking of his pinky and the soft kitten licks of his tongue. Despite everything about this which is clearly so damning, you don't hate how it feels, it feels kind of nice. The nicest it's ever felt for you, and, the more Geto does it like that, and suddenly you're--
"I'm... gonna cum!" And the way you're squeezing around that singular digit has Geto moaning into the sensitive, damp skin of your pussy, and you're thrashing a bit into the mattress to the point where Gojo loosens his grip on you.
"That's it. You did so good," Geto praises, "You took that so well."
i’d like to take a min and say i appreciate that this site still remains kinda chill compared to other platforms. Like yeah there’s still going to be bullshit here and there in fandoms (that i just block lol), but mostly the space has a better vibe. because actually why are people on instagram or tiktok so mean? like genuinely.
