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@faejvst
She put her face against Glinda’s and kissed her. “Hold out, if you can,” she murmured, and kissed her again. “Hold out, my sweet.”
Wicked, Gregory Maguire
i may have relapsed
there is nothing better than waking a pretty girl slowly from sleep by running your fingers gently along her clit until she's unconsciously twitching her hips, eyelashes fluttering -- almost awake -- then getting your mouth on her and applying firm, hard pressure, unrelenting, until she squirts all over your face and tits
getting to catch another hour of sleep pillowed in her body and covered in her cum is a close second
sweet husband Satoru with his crybaby wife
ᥫ᭡.
Satoru has always been the type to silently empathize with people especially the ones closest to him but when it comes to his wife he’s totally different.
Even when it comes to the littlest things, even the things that make him even confused on why you’re crying over it. But of course no matter what it might be he’s always there big arms open wide inviting you into his chest so he can squeeze you while peppering kisses all over your teary cheeks, whispering sweet praises in between each kiss.
when the sugar cookies you baked awhile ago finally cooled off, your sweet voice rang through the house calling satoru to the kitchen so he can try the new recipe you’ve been trying to master for the past few days.
I’m not even a minute Satorus heavy footsteps walk into the kitchen his blue eyes brightening as he sees the fresh cookies on the cooling rack.
before Satoru can even get to the rack of cookies you’re already handing him being way too excited cause you for sure think you mastered the recipe this time. Satoru lets out a small chuckle taking the cookie from you then taking a small bite out of the sugar cookie, his eyebrows furrowing, eyes squinting upwards as he chews then swallows too deeply.
“sweet girl, i think you used salt instead of sugar,” he admits. His voice is calm and gentle trying so hard not to completely crush your hope of getting the recipe right. Satoru lets out a small sigh as he sees the drop in your face, excitement completely gone.
Quickly putting the cookie on the counter, his large scarred hands cup your flushed cheeks from embarrassment. “sweetheart-,” he chuckles so softly trying to keep you from not sobbing, “it’s okay, you can bake them again,” he reassures. large thumbs placed under your eyes catching the tears that were already spilling over.
“i’ve baked them so many times already and i still can’t get it right,” your voice comes out shaky with an undertone of frustration. trying so hard to keep it together but all your mind could think of is how stupid you were from mixing up the ingredients.
“i know, sweet girl, but it happens a lot. more than you think, i mean mixing up salt and sugar is very common. It’s okay,” he reassures again. voice smothering you like sweet honey butter.
with a shaky exhale you nod, teary eyes still looking up at him as you calm down over the small mishap.
After 2 minutes go by of Satous thumbs gently drawing circles into your cheeks he lets go, pressing a soft kiss on each one before straightening back up.
“you bake the sugar cookies again, and i, your personal handsome taste tester will be back in no time.” he declares with a gentle smile, you nod wiping the last remaining tears from your soft red cheeks.
Satoru leans down again pressing another kiss to your temple his large hand rubbing your back “that’s my big girl, i’ll be in the living room if you need anything.” he softly says against your temple, he straightens back up giving you a small smack on the ass before walking back to the living room with that stupid grin his small dimple on one side threatening to show.
ᥫ᭡.
—-
a/n - i honestly don’t know if i like this, but i really wanted to write something sweet for satoru since i haven’t written for him in a hot minute. I’ll probably rewrite this soon (ᵕ—ᴗ—) also slightly proofread?
STUPID GIRL .ᐟ .ᐟ
꒰ summary : satoru gojo has a terrible habit of ruining the things she finds pretty.
꒰ content warnings : mdni. fem!gojo x fem!reader, toxic yuri, college au, rich mean girl gojo, bullying, panty stealing, hate sex, jealousy, humiliation, degradation, marking, bruising, biting, rough sex, strap-on, fingering, fingers in mouth, corruption kink. word count 1.9k art creds @cakkezzz on x
fem!satoru!gojo is a bitch, a heinous bitch, some might even say. her family is ridiculously rich. she’s beautiful with snowy white hair, glossy and shining, cut into long layered strands that always look effortlessly messy—but the kind of messy that’s sexy, not unkempt. her eyes are an alluring cyan blue, like uncharted oceans, varying in icy hues and depths, cold enough to make anyone freeze beneath her stare. her skin is a vast expanse of milky porcelain, supple and smooth, utterly flawless without a single blemish.
fem!satoru!gojo is beautiful, feared, and sought after by everyone… yet she’s too busy staring at the shy, quiet girl who rarely speaks, face buried in her phone, earbuds always plugged in—a perfect target for satoru, a new fixation for her.
so wherever you go, satoru follows. annoyingly bitchy as ever and a complete bully, purposely causing you to trip and spill your papers right outside chem—stacks of white sheets scattering across the hallway—just so she has a reason to bend down and help you gather them, sneaking a glance at your soft, dewy tits in that pretty shirt—way too revealing for her liking. i mean, seriously, the guys around here are pigs. she’s just looking out for you.
which is exactly why, during gym next period, she shoves the top you left in your locker—completely unknowing of her malicious plans—as she steals it and shoves it into her bag with every intention of burning it once she gets home… or maybe rubbing it against her aching cunt first. either way, she’s getting rid of it.
fem!satoru!gojo would’ve never expected the effect you have on her, though. so easy to bend to her will, so soft for her, so easy to rile up—yet somehow liking such dirty things, liking when she uses you, leaves you all pretty with marks from her teeth and lips :( cute, really. don’t let that fool you though, you’ll get bitchy with her from time to time, bratty in ways that have her sighing through a nasty grin. satoru just knows how to smack it right off you, in the only way she’s good at.
fem!satoru!gojo who bullies and ridicules you daily.
every time the professor assigns partners, it’s the same thing—papers rustling, names being called, and then her chair scraping back like she already knew. sometimes you think she pays the professor just to partner you together. that, or she has annoying, absurd luck.
“stupid girl,” she mutters as she sits down beside you, not even bothering to look at your face yet, already flipping the assignment over with rough, careless fingers, annoyance clear in her tone. “you really can’t do anything right. you know that’s why we’re always partnered together.”
your skin hums with nerves, tension tightening under the strain in her voice. she notices, like a predator hunting prey—her eyes narrowing on you with something sharp and eerily similar to bloodlust, with her need to ruin you. she’d never admit it, but seeing you all scared and nervous makes her clit tingle with anticipation for when she has you fucked dumb and squirming beneath her, fingers shoved in your mouth as you drool around them like a dumb slut.
a lazy sigh escapes her pretty, glossed lips that always carry a faint sheen of glimmer. her voice is loud enough to carry across the room despite it being merely a lackluster sigh.
“aw, c’mon,” she drawls, leaning back in her chair, long limbs stretching out like she owns the space, nearly kicking the person sitting in front of her. “you’re really gonna stick me with her again, teach?” she rolls her eyes, pointing at your frame as her lips form a bored pout.
people whisper to their respective groups, snickering cascading down the rows of students, disdain reaching your ears. their voices are shrill as they laugh without restraint, full of imprudence and ignorance. not surprising, though—laughter always follows when satoru speaks, even the stupidest of things; everyone here kisses the ground she walks on.
she tilts her head toward the professor, all faux annoyance and boredom, like this is some personal stain to her name.
“she’s just too stupid, really. it’s a shame she’s unteachable, bottom of the barrel, the lowest of them all,” she says casually, like it’s obvious to anyone with eyes. then she glances back at you, a smile forming—shifting into something sharp, vampire-like in the catch of the light, canines pearly white, the grin stretching long and wide, curling into something almost sinister, a full cheshire grin—“isn’t that why you always stick her with me so she can copy whatever the smartest one does and get an A? pfft. that’s low even for you, y/n.”
“don’t worry, though,” she says absentmindedly toward the professor, already leaning in, her perfume cloying and sweet, smelling like something sugary, almost like whipped vanilla and tart berries. sweet yet bitter, perfectly emasculating her sweet tooth, and the sourness that coats her tongue and lingers in her words, her breath skittering down your warm flesh in its feverish wake—spoken like a warning—before she finishes her sentence: “i’ll handle her, professor.”
fem!satoru!gojo who gets meaner when she’s jealous. someone glances at you too long, and she’s already there—cutting in with that lazy smile that never reaches her low, dead-set eyes.
“don’t,” she says simply, like it’s obvious you’re her pet. she should really get you a collar—maybe bedazzle it. she’s thinking a fifteen-carat flawless white diamond set into a pastel leather leash, only the best for her baby. she lets out a small snicker to herself, then pauses—nah… that’s too much.
she can’t stand when another person even throws a glance your way. last time a guy hit on you, she got him expelled. surprisingly easy when you have her money, status, and a last name professors practically bow to.
fem!satoru!gojo leaves bruises where her fingers dig into your flesh, teeth sinking in and puncturing skin in her wake. make her jealous, and it becomes your punishment.
fem!satoru!gojo sees you as something she can have whenever she wants—something she can use, take, ruin. corrupt under her gaze, her fingers knead into your soft doughy skin, as she pulls you into some secluded room, your skin sick with need, goosebumps crawling up your arms. she’s not even bothering to be gentle as she strips you bare.
her touch is confident; she knows she’s in control as her fingers skitter across the skin between your inner thighs, coming to a halt at your clothed core, fingers slipping through and working through your cunt, aware of all your sweet spots, your pussy swallowing her slender digits down to the knuckle as she curls and pumps into your heated core.
and you don’t fight it.
if anything, your body leans into her. chasing her touch.
this weird, hostile, hate-fueled thing between you and satoru is something you willingly take part in. you hate her—her attitude, the way she’s rude, snobby, so stuck-up it makes your blood boil—but she’s also the only one who can fuck three orgasms out of you back-to-back and leave your thighs clenching just from the sight of her sharp, smug grin, too cocky, and all teeth.
and don’t even get started when she pulls out the strap.
she’s mean about it—ruthless, sadistic.
your face is shoved deep into the pillow, barely able to breathe between shallow gasps as her hips snap forward again and again, the brutal force knocking the air from your lungs. the plastic cock drives deep inside you, your panties shoved to the side, your body already sensitive from the way her long fingers teased your clit beforehand. this position she’s got you in—she knows exactly what she’s doing—lets her hit that spot perfectly, every thrust dragging a scraped, broken sound out of you.
the room fills with it. the soft, wet, obscene squelching sound, the constant echo of your greedy cunt taking everything she gives.
“pathetic,” she mutters, voice low and mocking. “going dumb over my cock like this.”
she really believes it, too. she talks like it’s hers, like it’s real, like if she wanted, she could come inside you and leave you completely ruined, full of her seed, leaking with it. god, what a nerd, you think.
“fucking slut for this cock, aren’t you?”
you grip the sheets, nails digging into the fabric, your voice muffled into the pillow. “ngh—fuck, s’toru, it’s too much… i hate you.”
she’s got a crooked smile, teeth dragging over her bottom lip, all need. “nah, baby, your pussy’s telling me different. she’s a real bigggg talker, you know.”
satoru slowly eases the baby blue strap from your tight heat, and your cunt clings—desperate, greedy, almost rotten in the way it sucks her back in. when she finally pulls out, the ridges are coated, slick with your creamy release.
“mm.” she hums, satisfied, a little amused. “see that? you’re painting my shit.”
something shifts in her at the sight—something sharper, more carnivorous—and suddenly she’s rutting into you harder, faster, pushing you up the bed with the force of it. then she slows, dragging it out, letting you feel every inch as your pussy clamps down around her.
she flips you over without warning, forcing you onto your back so you have to look at her.
her white hair is messy, pushed back, strands sticking from sweat. her eyeliner is smudged, lashes pale and catching the light, her expression wrecked in a way she’d never admit you’re the cause of.
her voice comes out rough as she leans in, thumb pressing against your lips before pushing inside your mouth, forcing past your teeth. the second you feel her, you bite down hard, leaving behind tooth-marked petals.
something dark flashes through her sky-kissed eyes—she’s quick with her movements. her hand snaps across your face, sharp and sudden, a sting that burns hot against your skin without quite tipping into real pain.
you just grin at her like a crazy woman. your eyes are glassy, wet with tears pooling along your lashes, your cheeks flushed and overheated from everything she’s dragged out of you. your body’s still trembling, ruined from the way she’s pulled orgasm after orgasm out of you, damp strands of hair clinging to your skin, mascara faintly smeared beneath your eyes.
“cocky, aren’t we,” she murmurs.
her fingers shove deeper into your mouth this time, pressing against your tongue, pushing far enough to make you choke, your eyes watering as tears finally spill over. at the same time, her other hand slides down your body, dragging along your slit before slipping your lace panties off completely.
she brings them up, pressing the soft lace to her face, inhaling slow.
“mm… yeah. think i’m gonna keep these,” she says, almost casually. “you don’t mind, do you?” she bats her eyelashes at you, long white lashes fluttering softly, deceptively sweet. yeah, you don’t mind. even if you did, it’s not like you could say anything when she’s looking at you like that—so sickly saccharine it’s almost suffocating.
she doesn’t wait for an answer—just tucks them into her bra like they’re hers now, just like you are, already looking back down at you with that same awful, knowing smirk. yet you catch the way it frays at the edges, faltering beneath your held gaze.
꒰ྀི১ ໒꒱ིྀ masterlist - kofi - emergency comm info!
note . . i love evil women hello !! @kamislop this is for u 😈
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me: feels unloved *searches x reader tag*
𑣲 busted heater ♡
☆ wife!sevika x reader ★
── ♡ synopsis: you both had an argument, but the heater is broken and you’re both broke.
── ♡ cw: cuddling, fluff, post argument tension
You and Sevika had just had an argument but the biting cold of the Zaunite winter forced you both to remain in the room that trapped the most heat—the shared bedroom of your apartment.
Sevika fiddled with the heater for a while, but returned with a frustrated huff before slumping down on the edge of the bed.
You perked from underneath the blanket.
“Can’t figure it out?” You asked.
can she just tie my hands behind my back and finger me til i’m gasping and moaning into her mouth
@spicyburgy
and for the lady, perhaps a clingy butch ?
A needy femme who teases herself all day with sapphic media and deny her orgasms because she wants real touch and to be fucked senseless by a butch or another femme….
It’s me,I’m that needy femme
18+ She loves the faces you make when you take her strap. ۶ৎ
You’re on your back in the middle of her soft bed, legs spread wide around her hips, while she hovers above you. The mirror on the ceiling reflects everything back down at you: your flushed chest, the way your thighs tremble, the desperate little twist of your mouth every time she rolls her hips. “Look up, baby,” she whispers, voice low and enticing against your ear. “Watch yourself for me.”
You tilt your head back. The sight makes your stomach flutter: her body moving over yours, the thick strap disappearing inside you with every smooth thrust, your own face twisted in pleasure, lips parted, eyes glassy, cheeks burning. She smiles when she sees you looking. “There she is,” she murmurs, almost fondly. “My pretty girl. Look how fucked out you get for me, baby.”
Her pace stays steady but filthy, hips rolling in that perfect rhythm that hits deep every single time. One of her hands slides up to cup your jaw, gently turning your face so you can’t look away from the mirror. “See that?” she breathes, pressing a kiss just below your ear. “See how your mouth falls open when I go deep? How your eyes get all hazy when I grind against your clit like this?”
You whimper, unable to stop the soft, broken sounds spilling from your lips. She watches your reflection with dark, loving eyes, like she’s memorizing every twitch of your face, every flutter of your lashes.
“You’re so beautiful when you let go,” she says softly, almost a whisper. She leans down to kiss you, slowly, while still fucking you in that same steady rhythm. When she pulls back, her thumb brushes your bottom lip. “I could watch you for hours.” Your thighs start shaking harder around her waist. She feels it and smiles, grinding deeper, slower, making sure you feel every inch.
“Come for me, sweetheart,” she whispers, eyes locked on your reflection. “Let me see that pretty face when you fall apart.” You do — back arching, mouth open in a silent cry as pleasure crashes through you. She keeps moving through it, murmuring soft praises against your skin, completely captivated by the way you look coming on her strap.
When you finally go limp beneath her, she leans down and kisses you again, slow and tender, like she’s thanking you for letting her see you like this. She pulls out gently, then wraps you up in her arms, pressing soft kisses to your forehead while you catch your breath. “My perfect girl,” she whispers, still watching your face in the mirror above. “I love every face you make for me.”
The urge to hold down her hips and fuck her through her orgasm, listening to her pretty cries as I turn her into my mindless little slut with my strap.
pretty girl that likes to be called princess. pretty girl that cries when they’re overstimulated. pretty girl that can’t stop cumming when you find that little spot they love. pretty girl that babbles when they wanna cum. pretty girl that digs nails in so hard it bleeds. pretty girl that pulls their panties to the side and asks if you want a treat. pretty girl that moans your name like a prayer as you’re making them see god. pretty girl that’s always so grateful to be your special girl.
when someone draws sevika without a happy trail a fairy dies