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sza. she/her. simp
navigation♡
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My ao3♡
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English is not my mother tongue♡
I apologize for any spelling and grammar errors♡
Feeling worse in a safe place doesn’t mean the safe place is wrong.
It often means your nervous system finally believes the danger has passed.
Instead of ranting I should probably update. Okay okay give me a sec.
I think the saddest thing in terms of Megumi and Gojo's relationship is that in the end, Gojo would have rather had Megumi end his life rather then anyone else.
Satoru Gojo is responsible for Megumi as a guardian more then that he trains him, so it's likely he knows a lot more about Megumi's depression and the (likely) inherent cause of it being abandoned at such a young age then later by his have his only family, Tsumiki Fushiguro, falling into a curse induced sleep. Only Toji isn't out doing whatever he likes, like Megumi assumes but was killed by Gojo. Know Gojo never tells him that but rather in the few training scenes we see between the two Gojo pushes Megumi on constantly. In this way we can see how Gojo feels although indirectly causes Megumi's depression.
Especially in the flashback before the subjugation ritual and subsequently releasing Mahoraga. In this scene we see Gojo retelling an old battle between the Gojo and Zenin clan where the two heads of the clans had eachs respect techniques, Six eyes and infinity, and 10 shadows. Although the details are the two head passed on in their duel Gojo makes something more apprent to Megumi. Gojo speculates with Megumi that one day he will be as strong as him or even stronger, effectively dethorning him as the Strongest Sorcerer in Jujutsu Society.
This is relevant because even if Gojo believes no one is allowed to take away the lives of the youth, he does recognise that he effectively stole Megumi's youth away with depression. That also why he believes he has a deeply flawed personality because he attempts to reimburse this lost youth with a normal high school experience. This is done by stopping his path to the Zenins and thereafter Jujutsu Society. However when this path is unaccepted by Megumi, he decides to train him to be the best like him. Hopefully to not only curb his depression but also as an atonement for cursing it in the first place.
This path is then effectively stopped by the sealing of Gojo and thereafter the control of Megumi's body by Sukuna. However the addition of Itadori makes him rethink his plan of atonement and thereafter his own life. Noticing the shift away from depression brought on by Yuji, Gojo realises that the only way he can fully atone is with his own life. Because the sacrifice of his own life leads to the opening needed Yuji to take back Megumi but also to effectively stop Sukuna and let them (hopefully) live out thier youth. This is further emphasised by the fact that Megumi is the the one who ends his life, while indirectly because it was Sukuna, it if still Megumi's body and in the grand scheme of things its Gojo's life to save Megumi's.
And in the bigger picture this is Gojos why of atoning the even bigger sin of being unaware of Suguru's depression and then his deteriorating mental state which leads to the parade and eventually the butterfly effect this has on the plot. Hence it is only fitting he passes on the day it starts, 24 December.
Back to the exchange of lives both figuratively and literally it is relevant but also ironic. Gojo is aware he will pass so he writes letters to them, and one is to Megumi, finally telling him, he is the one who murdered his father. And to Megumi habours no resentment to Gojo because again he has paid his life back. However it is ironic because one never really heals from things like depression or grief but rather they because scars on the heart. They close up and stop hurting, but the shape of them remains on you. And thier are days where even if you are better you look at them and at all still hurts. The phantom pains linger and will forever haunt you.
Hey everyone.
Sorry I took an extended break from writing because I had a really long assignment and like 4 test I needed to do. I'll be back tonight.♡
Threesome
Masterlist
Tervor Belmont and Sypha Belnades
"I only have eyes 42"
+18, pussy eating, titty licking, piv
You were just a simple maid, living on the edge of the village. Hired by the Belmonts, you simply wanted to do the laundry, assuming the lovely couple had gone out to work, but when you walked into the room, you found the couple in a very precarious position. And never in your life thought that they would let you join them. You had just wanted to take the washing out the hamper, Mr Belmont had gone out for work the day prior when you were in the middle of your stoop cleaning and had deemed today was wash day.
However in this position, no washing would happen. The position being the fiery orange locks of Sypha tickling the skin of your inner thighs, cascading down and along it. Her mouth is busy, sucking on the bud of nerves between the swollen folds of your pussy. She then pulled off with a squelch and pointed her tongue to travel up and down the slit of your entrance. That combined with the feeling of Trevor's hands roughly groping your breast while pushing off the seam of your corset. His teeth full of gentle intent, teasingly pulling on the numb of breast making you sob out.
Just as quickly as it began it all stopped and you softly opened your eyes at the feeling of being shifted and positioned. With your head placed on top of the feeling of the soft furs that they kept on the bed, you found Tevor was stationed in between your thighs wrapped about his waist greedily. His hand wrapped around his ruddy red length fisting it hard as he watched you. The voice of Sypha was a gentle caress to the shell of your ear.
“He is gonna fuck you beatiful, while you lick me. "Is that okay sweetie?" it was like it made your body fire faster than you could even think. The need for stimulation accumulates as you begin to pour out in anticipation at the thought, you nodded your head so fast it nearly fell off. With a soft laugh, the view of Sypha milky caramel thighs came into view, the lips of her pussy over your swollen mouth. The lips of her pussy puffy and the area near the slit was a soft pink that glistened, begging for you to give them a long sweet kiss.
But before you could even do that the hot hard feeling of Tervor weighed onto your cunt. It was so warm and heavy, you could only imagine how it looked there, the bottom of his dick sliding up and down your cunt. The thick vein under it sweeping and kissing your clit. Softly he pushed into you, the stretch making you wince as you tighten. You could hear the way his breath began to labour as he continued to conquer your sobbing cunt. The occasional squelching that wasn't exclusively from you cunt must have been the couple kissing and you only pressed Tervors cock deeper inside you that thought.
Soon with glassy eyes and breathy moans, he bottomed out inside you holding himself there, your body too tight to move without pain. Sypha then decided to relax, she would finally let you taste her with a soft moan. She lowered her hips down towards you, which you greedily welcomed, pulling her hips down towards your face, burying your head in her soft jiggling ass. You lashed your tongue up and down her slit, pulling her clit into your mouth with enough suction to feel Sypha put her hands on your belly and moan. When you had relaxed enough while eating her pussy like it was your meal, the full feeling Tervor left you if only slight before plugging you back up. Over and over and over and over again. Until you were moaning and shaking.
You then decide wash day would have to be tomorrow (or not if Tervor and Sypha had any say)
Age Difference
Kinktober Masterlist
Keishin Ukai
+18, problematic, blow job, coach kink?, if you don't like !DNI!
The last time you had been seen by Coach Ukai, you were a simple 3rd year in high school, wearing a top and some too-short shorts, cheering for your then-boyfriend Tsukishima at the nationals. He remembered you had screamed his name so loud that the usually stoic boy had his face turning red. Ten years down the line, you were no longer Tsukishima’s girlfriend, but one of the new biology teachers at Karasuno. And today, he was softly suffering seeing you in a whole other light.
You were under his cubicle in the staff room, your tight skirt moulding and shaping around your ass, each bounce of your bobbing head making it ride up further and further, until the pretty black panties you wore that stretched over your wide ass were in his aerial view. On your haunches before him, the sharp edges of your heels looked out under you, and Ukai had to keep his eyes on them, to keep himself from releasing his load in your mouth.
But like you always like to do, you decide to tease, with how his dick was flexing in your mouth, the weight of his balls changing as your spit-covered hands rose and fell. You wanted to know why he wasn't giving you what you were working so hard for. You pull off with a wicked pop of his dick, making him groan as if being burned.
“Now Keishin, haven't I been a good enough girl…” You stroke up the length, collecting the spit that connected you to the weeping slit of his dick, then placing it on your cheek. Softly slapping your face with his cock you turn up to flutter your lashes at him. “Come on, Coach. Why won't you give me more?” you faux pout, looking at how his brows knit together in cogitation. You were taking so much out of him, his deep brown hair stuck to his forehead and his dark cherry lips from years of smoking were parted. Beads of sweat were rolling off his soft, wrinkling skin. His shaft twitches and contracts at your fake innocence, and all you do is giggle.
“Please, Coach, cum in my mouth, I'll be a good girl.” You squat back on your calves, slaughtering your tongue from the bottom of his balls and pulling it up all the way to the top of his cock where a pearl of cum was pouring out, the flavour of it pooling on your soft tongue before you spat it back out on the tip. You make a show of it, stretching your arms back and forth on his shaking hips before wrapping your pretty fingers around him.
Keishin looked as if he was about to cry from trying to keep quiet, his hip pulling up as he could only think about cumming. This is still the staff room even after hours, but when he could feel the warmth of your mouth, he felt his resolve dissolve and melt out of him. The cream off white of it shoots out into the back of your throat. You did your best, you sucked it all up, the salty taste dripping off your tongue and down your chin. You pulled off as Keishin sat there nearly lifeless.
“What's the next set, Coach?”
Love Confession
Flufftober Masterlist
Mash Burnedead
"I blinked and suddenly I had a valentine♡"
Mash is such a cutie pie
Mash Burnedead was for the very first time perplexed. Sitting by the courtyard benches he looked down at the strawberry cream puff before him. It was warm and sweet and the way the berry smelled was just like you. You, you pretty, kind, funny, forever on his mind you. It's like you were haunting him like a ghost in the night.
You were constantly on his mind, no matter what he thought about you would appear there with a big wide smile. When he decided to pump iron he would secretly think about how you deserved to be beside someone with lovely rippling muscles so they can protect you, and would pump that much more. When he opened his Magical Chemistry book, he thought about how witty you were when outsmarting Lance or how you used to always expand his vocabulary. Even when he visited his pops it was all you around him.
Hopelessly he asked Finn if he was sick or if you had put a spell on him. The former had to explain that Mash Burnedead was in love with the first-year sweetie that was you. “Then what do I do about that?” Mash queried with a cock of his head. Overhearing this on his way in, Dot tried to give his input. And as always they would never be completely them without Lance coming to say Mash was absolutely not her type. After that slump in conversation, Lemon walked in a told him the following:
“Write her a note to meet you in the courtyard, show up with her favourite thing and let her know you feel Mash. Who knows she may like you too?”
It had been 4 months since then and only now did he eventually have the nerve to even write the letter. Now he sat there, feeling the cooling wind breeze past him and his heart swelling up in his chest. “Oh hey Mash” you say with a wave as you walk towards him. Every bit of light shone off of you highlighting your beauty and extenuating your big bright smile you wore for him and only him. Standing up to look at you with his classic deadpan express, Mash's fingers began to sweat, his stomach knotting in itself. It was do or die.
The mushroom head pushes the cream puff towards you dropping his head to face down as he does so. “This is for you.” He whispers but you seem to hear him taking the puff form his hands and sounding a sweet thank you. “Also, I'm not the best at showing my feelings,” he began slightly uncurling but never looking at you, “and this can be weird for us if I don't do it right,” he shifts his shoes into the sand a little and looks at your still one.
“But I like you. A lot. More than just my friend.” The words come out and characteristically quiet form him and bites his cheek a little as he peeps at you. When he sees you your smile has grown impossibly bigger wobbling like that of an excited child and your hands clasping the puff close to you as if it were your heart.
“Lucky for you Mash, so do I.”
Masturbation
kinktober masterlist
Kento Nanami
+18 cloths sniffing, voyuerism
Kento Nanami was nothing but a gentle man to you. As a personal assistant, you were his live-in assistant; you were around him more than 80% of the time, whether it was meetings, conferences or watching a movie on the sofa of his luxury penthouse, you were typically attached at the hip. And by virtue of that fact, you had never had Mr Nanami behave out of line.
Which is why it was a wonder to you when you woke up in the middle of the night to something, a type of moan. You had been in your room, the door opposite Kento's, wrapped in your warm weighted blankets, when you opened your eyes lazily to gaze into the darkness of your room. As your strained eyes focused, the darkness began to move, to shift from side to side and then moaned out like it was choking.
Frozen in fear, you continue to look at it morphing before you, waking up more and more. You began to notice that the darkness was not moving, instead it was your blonde boss hunching over an area you remember as where you put all of your dirty clothes, the area near the hamper. Curious, you squint and watch. Watch the taller man hunched over, the right side of his body shifting rapidly as he continued. You lay there wondering what was happening. The sound of his deep voice mused into the air, breathy, hearty, filled with darkness and melting into your skin, making it hot.
It was your name, repeated, on and on and on. It was accompanied by the sound of pathetic sniffles, followed by rumbling breaths. The sound of squelching became louder, bouncing in and out, off and around your walls. Shocked, you could assume your boss, Kento Nanami, was in your room, nose stuffed in your dirty clothes and masturbating. You felt yourself stiffen and scandalised, wanting to look away but fearing a shift in your body would alert him to your awakened state.
So you sat and watched him. Watched him, imagining the way his hand would be curled up against his cock, fisting and rubbing at it at the thought of you, the scent of you. Was he smelling your blouse? You pants? Skirt? Socks? Those soft yellow lace panties you had bought at the thought of him. You had no idea a man of such stoic demeanour was this passionate. Panting and groaning so wantonly. What would he be like with you instead of your clothes, you wanted to know. The area at the apex of your thighs begins to moisten, spoiling the soft feeling of your sleep pants. You inhale the air heavily, willing your hands to stay by your side, to relieve the pain that was building there and let your head wander?
How long has it been?
Has he done it before?
And before you knew it, you were awake again next to Kento Nanami, the perfect gentleman.
Kinktober '25 Masterlist (Discontinued)
Masturbation
Age difference
Threesome
Flufftober '25 Masterlist (Discontinued, im sorry :((( )
First Kiss
Love Confession
First Kiss
Megumi Fushiguro
flufftober Masterlist
short and sweet
It was a warm summer day. The sky was turning a dark orange as the sun descended down the mountains. The cicadas sang a sweet melody in the cool air. The long winding halls of Jujutsu Tech were quiet and empty, only filled with sunlight and pieces of dust that danced in its bask.
It was the last day of the school year, dorms were locked up for a long time, and the staff room locked up. Your train ticket home was tucked into your backpack that stood by the door as you awaited Ijitchi to return and take you to the train station for the final time. It was the end of your third year at the school and saying goodbye to it and all the beautiful friends you made along the way was one of the most bittersweet moments you have ever experienced.
Or was it this one, the feeling of Megumi’s lip on yours slowly moving, articulating against yours all the things he never said to you. How much you really meant to him. His firm hands on your face caressing you forward into him. The feeling of his thick black hair in your fingers, the smooth lock clasping to you as if you were life. His lips tasted like the dairy banana ice cream he was eating just moments ago, you hated the flavour but here, entangled with the taste of his skin it was just good. Subtle, sweet filling you up endlessly.
Your first kiss, by your first love.
𖥻 五条悟 ─────────────── dimples
satoru is very cute.
there are many words that you can describe him—strong, handsome, confident, cocky, and so much more. he is the gojo satoru and you honestly think he has a kink for words of affirmation.
but to you, he is cute—very much so.
you are currently staring at him, yapping about sweets he has found on one of his missions. it’s about mochi—you guess—you are not really paying attention since you are preoccupied by something else.
his dimples. his deep and cute dimples on his cheeks.
whenever he smiles, like he captures the sun itself and brings it everywhere, his dimples appear like peek-a-boo. not only he lightens up the whole room, but he also shows off (not really) these very cutesy dimples.
it’s adorably frustrating because how can he be so perfect? and with dimples? he’s literally out here to kill you.
he notices you gawking at him and smirks. there it is again.
“what? you fallin’ for me again?”
you cup his cheeks and fix your eyes that shape like heart into him. you pinch both of them and you try not to squeal.
“yes, satoru. i am falling for you again and will always be—forever.”
he is rendered speechless and you continue simping for your man, because he clearly deserves it.
You call Gojo ‘old’ because of his white hair to tease him–he puts a few babies in you to prove that it’s genetic.
Haunted +18
CZW Jon Moxely x fem reader
TW: implied past sexual assault, implications of drug use, sex under the influence, and dubious consent and blood play. If you don't like or can't handle, take care of yourself and scroll.
2k words I think.
Notes: my personal favourites, try listening to Haunted by Beyonce, Me and your mama by Childish Gambino and Apple Cherry and Bad Blood by NAO. Enjoy♡
Curled up on the curb you stare at the quiet street; illuminated by the warm glow of lights., the air fragranced by the sour smell of piss. The feeling of the concrete prickles as you at the tops of your back thigh, the dress so short barely able to curl over your bum as you tuck your face comfortably into the crook in-between your knees. You can still feel him, feel it all. The grime of his hands scraping the skin on your arms as you pushed away, but he was strong, and desperation came off of him in waves. Wave that comes towards you, dragging up your skirt, pulling on your skin, grinding on you. Hot and uncomfortable, like boiling water on burnt skin. The memories of it all make you lean over to the side, the pressure like a stone pushing up your dry throat up and out onto the gutter beside your feet. The colour a wicked mix as you looked at the mixture of bile, alcohol, and items of lunch wrap in your drunk vision. It was a welcomed sight in opposition to what you were thinking. What you wanted to forget. What you wanted to forget for weeks now: The reason you were out here, on a piss covered curb and the sound of music bouncing off the walls of a building a whisper behind you.
Anything to not go home. Anything to never be there with him, beside him, him on top of you. You gag on nothing, stomach too empty to produce more as your vomit flows away. The bouncer wouldn't let you stay, too drunk to see straight so there was only one place to go. With a phone running on empty, a few bills and a few pills in your bag you stand and begin to walk. Walk toward those eyes, steel blue and haunting. Like a predator finding not prey…but something worth hunting. So you stalk towards them.
He is there at the back thinking of you as he slams his fist into his cheek. You, small and still in a crowd of things like him. Things that were hungry, angry, crazy mutts, barbarians. Betting, getting off on seeing his blood splattered on the white floor, as he got off lying there lifeless, feeling numb despite his match success. You were like a rabbit surrounded by jackals. Jackals that feed on you. You had marks on their teeth in the forms of ill covered bruises and scars. You were a pet to one of these betting Jackals who wanted Moxley gone, bleeding to death in the middle of the ring.
Until he saw your eyes, haunted by sleepless night, surrounded by dark skin but despite that, they were sharp, like that of a wolf. Boring into him. Stripping him. Disarming all that he was without a word. Wide and focused on him as a fluorescent light shattered into powdered glass shards. Another punch, fully planted on his own jaw as if to knock you away from the forefront of his mind. He groaned, a metallic tang feeling in his mouth. He had to concentrate on it, the taste of his blood in his mouth and not the predator that had been seeking him out.
Bouncing up and down the dark tunnel-like halls, he hears his name being called out in the mix of mighty roars of the small rowdy crowd. He jumps out to them, the room lights a dirty yellow in where the ring was . He stepped into it basking in it as he swallowed his blood tainted spit and felt like he had swallowed the essence of life itself. Looking down the creaking mats and wood he saw prey. He could smell it. Drake was equally as hungry as him ready to tear him a new one. He knew that better than anyone else.
But he was hungry, unsatiated by even the aftertaste of his own blood. He lusted to taste Drake's blood to taste the blood of a wounded animal wounded by his hand. Lusting of success of a hunt. Stepping beyond the ropes, he stared his opponent down, slurs and insults of himself and former flying around, but he learned to tune them out and focus as he heard that around the bell.
You push the 5 dollar bill and bright blue pill into the bouncer's chest. He looks down at you then it makes you quirk a brow. Without missing a beat he throws the smiley faced pill into his mouth, crushes it between his molars and swallows before letting you through. You stumble down towards the yellow light, holding onto the wall that caved into you as you did so. You can hear the sound of his name pounding off and onto the walls in your pulsing mind as a headache moves from the base of your nape to the furrow in your brows. The image of those blue eyes following his name in your head is like an echo. When you get to the light you are perched up above looking down at the square cased in a circle.
He is there barely awake , mirroring you,face dripping the red of his blood and grime that covered his face. His body flimsy as he is strong up against Drake's body. You think to turn away but before you do,his eyes all open a less than a fraction, the saw yours. Eyes that had haunted him looking down at him, gone was that investigative glint that made them glow but they were dull. Calling, wanting. Never leaving,you instead walk around to sit, watching as his head turns to follow you as you slowly step before sitting yourself down. Sitting watching and waiting.
He could feel it, feel the way your eyes looked at him and begged. The feeling mixing into his blood lust, he didn't want to just wound Drake but sink his teeth into you. Sink them deep into the throat till the skin snapped before licking the open flesh. Thoughts of lapping at it clouding his barely conscious mind. The thought itself injected adrenaline into his very veins that for the first time in a while was glad they pumped his blood so rapidly.
Throwing his body to Drake, he sank his teeth into his ear, the crack of the soft cartilage there snapping with the sound of a cry from Drake; the taste of his poison bitter blood followed. He willed his limb body up to deliver a few body shots to his victim—his obstacle the only thing keeping from you. Keeping him from dropping those eyes from hunting him. Possessed by overcoming lust he grabbed a tubular bulb and shattered it across Drake's body, white dust that burnt as it left cut skin in its wake fell around before grabbing another fluorescent light bulb. Then another. The sound of the crowd chants louder. The other. “Mox, Mox, Mox, Mox!”and another. With a yell of his own as he smelt the tang of blood fill his nose. As he pinned the wounded mutts for his victory Moxley could hear his name yelled through the roof tops. But his bloodlust was far from satisfied.
The pain of the glass powder in his eyes, the strain of the yellow light, the taste of his blood and Drake’s in his mouth was not enough as he looked into your eyes.
Tonight's show was far from over, but he needed you now. In a blur of motion he was climbing the stairs to get you, find you, hunt the hunter. But then he emerged there and you were at the top of the stairs. You were darkened standing against the light but your eyes, you God forsaken eyes were glowing at him, at his arrival. The sound of his dirty old boots slowed to a dead stop a few steps before you. He's studied your body, the way it curved and carved the light around you.
“Jon.”
Your voice refocuses him, refocuses him to that look in your eyes. The way they cried to him, begged for him. Screamed at him to touch you. Wailed for him to make you feel something again knowing nothing about you but the carnal desire of you wanting him. Preying on him to take it all away into a bitter memory of nothingness.
His boots started on the stairs again then stopped as he crushed his mouth to yours, greed overtaking him as he sinks his tongue into your mouth, uncaring of the taste of liquor on it. The rest of you was sweet. Obliging him, you tighten your hands into his hair and fix his mouth to yours pushing him more, pressed for him to sink his tongue into your throat. To know you, to taste you full and wholly. Pushing and dragging you up the wall until your heels left the ground, he let your lips go with a loud pop and prompted you to explore and sample the taste of your raw skin.
His lips felt like fire scrunching your skin, as it turned an angry reddy colour after being held in his mouth for so long. You let your voice flow out freely, a sigh and cry forced out of you as his lips lashes at your collar bone. That sound you made, the sound he made you make, it fuels him, makes him see red. Makes his hips buck up into the gap between your ass cheeks as he gropes and spreads them in his grip. His jeans hurt against him, the thinness of his underwear making it worse as the tip of his cock glides uncomfortably about his metallic zip.
He is weak to give you what you need here, too weak to haul you up into the wall and fuck you like a wild animal. Body was limp, knees so painful he thought he would buckle under you. He can feel you need it, grinding your clothed cunt against his hard, bloodied abdomen. Tightening your legs about his time was daring him to let you go, leave you without. Moxley would never, with the look in your eyes as you half looked at him, hands in his greasy blooded hair tugging and pulling telling him where you needed him, where to cover you with him. But he is strong enough to lay you down and bury himself in you.
With a deep breath he dares your mouths to duel again, pressed to an inch of their lives, teeth bumbling together as you did, tangling tongues to the other. The bump of his steps makes you occasionally sink deeper into his mouth, the tip of the wet muscle rubbing against the wound in his mouth. The taste of a mixture of blood flooding your senses as you feel him shudder under you. His tinted jeans press into the tight ring of your ass and you moan into your mouth at the feeling, the base of his jeans and shift your swollen pussy lips as he walks.
With burning lungs and lips so swollen they are numb, happily covered in Moxley's saliva he all but throws you onto the creaking bed of the Combat Zone warehouse. Every bed spring came up to stab into your soft skin, the whole of it dipping under your wait. But it's not worth registering as Moxley climbs over you, cock leaping to his raw skin, settling under his belly button as he crawls over you like an animal awaiting to mate. With eyes focused on him, as his mouth finds yours biting on the soft skin of his lip and tugging, you shift your panties off to the side for him. He nips on the skin of your top lips sinking his teeth there pulling your mouth to his before a tongue into your mouth.
Grabbing his dick in your hand between you, you waste no time pushing the tip in, eyes blowing wide at the feeling. The way it stretched you wide, painful but you lathered in it, the dryness changing to a sloppy wet at the feeling of it makes you pussy weep. Moxley feels the tightness of your pussy, how you pulse at the feel of him, and exhales with a hearty moan into the cavern of your mouth, and is rewarded with a moan of your own into his mouth, the sounds coming together and clashing.
Feeling you gush around him, Moxley pulls himself out, wiping your cunt off it slick and stroking it up his dick before pushing back in with less resistance from your wanting cunt. You sob out a whine as he penetrates in more and more, his own head ducking to breath and makes goosebumps erupt on the side of your neck. More and more, his breath came quicker, your moans got louder, more choke out as he pushed his cock into your cunt, feeling the rippling walls pull him in as your body flexed in pleasure. His mouth began to drip as he wanted to sink his teeth into your flesh, his mouth just over your quickening pulse.
As he snapped his hips up into you more, bouncing you against the painful bed springs you began to pray a filthy prayer of his name, “Moxely, Moxely, Mox, Mox…Oh god.” That's what he felt like now, not like your prey, not a mutt, not a fighter but your God, there for you to worship making your dream come true. The desire to have everything wash off of you and feel the sweat he built up on your body wash it away from you. Wash that scums touch off, you, rebirth you as he drilled you into his mattress. Looking up at your eyes glazing over as you looked down at him praying his name he felt the need to bite to overcome him.
Placing his teeth over your beating pulse he snapped his jaw closed, the feeling making you scream as tears welled in your eyes.Skin snapping at the forces of it and bodies teasing as white waves of pleasure overcame you, cunt sobbing as you cum around him, a strangled “Jon!” Coming out as a deadly scream. It made him thrust faster and faster and faster, The feeling of your sweet, decadent blood filling in his mouth as he spilt his seed inside you. Hot fucking ropes, shooting intside you, over over and over in you, begging for you to accept them. Wanting to be in you and held there. So fucking much pouring into you until it felt you insides became liquid, melting thanks to hot it felt.
You could barely move, feeling Moxley lashing at the wound he made against your skin. Kissing the lines of teeth, he numbed it down for the moment of maybe it was the adrenaline pumping through either way. It made you drift off to the sound, the sound of his tongue on your skin and the feeling of fullness still there even if his dick was softening inside you.
When you finally came to, Moxley was pressed on to your back and you could finally see straight. You got up, slid your panties back in place and wrote him a note.
‘See you again next week.’
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