
6 posts
Tacos-desal - Sin Ttulo - Tumblr Blog

you know how it is with the desert mines
based on this meme:

I love how you draw Leona’s hair…so soft and floofy…I know that man uses a 5 in 1 body wash and yet still looks like that…
thank you! 💛💛💛 truly, it is unfair how many of the Twst boys have absolutely gorgeous hair with zero -- nay, negative -- effort. do not make the mistake of asking them about their hair routine. it will only lead to madness.





dad gojo pt.2 featuring Megumi and shikigami training

pairing: fem! reader, husband! suguru
c.w: bl0wjobs, dirty talk, cursing.
w.c: 1,3k

When Suguru wants to receive head, he doesn’t say it. Words suddenly seem far too vulgar for a man who spews out filth when he’s fucking his cock deep into you. He wants to catch you off guard with his words, but asking you to suck him off sounds disrespectful—he can spit in your mouth, eat your ass but never push his cock down your throat unless you asked him to. You are too sweet for him, all comfortable in your cotton shorts and worn out T-shirt you had begged him not to get rid of when he pulled it out his closet. You’re so attached to the piece of clothing, he joked that he had competition in the relationship.
He eyes you carefully as you take a seat next to him on the couch, throw your head on his lap and bury your face in his stomach. You are affectionate, that he knows. However, it took everything in Suguru not to buck up his hips when he feels your cheek press against his soft cock. He can feel himself hardening, you’re clearly exhausted and in need of comforting, so he reaches out for the pillow next to him and tries to place it on his crotch.
“What are you doing?” you mumble against his skin, somehow having lifted up his shirt and were now pressing your lips against his stomach.
“Getting you a pillow to rest your head on.” He replies, fingers stroking your hair. He feels you shake your head, lips peppering kisses along his scarred stomach.
“I don’t need it here,” he stares at you confused, but it doesn’t last for long. He feels you move from the couch and down to the floor where you sit obediently on your knees between his large thighs. You braced yourself on his knees with a look of fascination on your face, wondering what you did in a past life that was so heroic that you were rewarded with such a handsome man, sculpted by God himself.
You reach for the pillow intended for your head and position it below your knees, shuffling a bit to get yourself comfortable. Your fingers reach for his shorts and you look up at Suguru, waiting for him to give you a bit of a helping hand and let you undress him.
“This is all very random,” he says but lifts up his hips nonetheless. How could he complain when he’s been daydreaming of fucking your face all morning? He’s always appreciated your little expressions. You had a face full of emotion—when you were sad, he knew it by the little tremble to your lips. When you were annoyed, your eyebrows would stay furrowed for so long he worried you’d get a headache. Catching anxiety on your face was easy—all color would drain from it. And when you were so full of love for him, so adoring, your eyes spoke volumes to him. Pupils blown wide, smile reaching your cheeks and eye contact that lasted for an eternity—he loved to trace his thumb along your skin, feel the acne scars all the way down to your lips that suck in his thumb like a treat. He loved your face so much, he wanted to stuff it with his cock.
He would let you take the lead, watch what you do with it—he imagines that you would start by licking the side, focus on that one prominent vein that makes him hiss, then you’d lick your way up to the tip before wrapping those delicious lips around it—kind of like how you were doing right now.
You are shameless with showing your appreciation for his massive cock. Your hands fondle with his balls like a stress toy, your mouth busy trying to fit all of him inside—but you can’t. You’ve tried it before and almost choked to death. You take a deep breath as you pull away from his dick, staring at it in its full glory, standing tall. Saliva coated it from all edges, but your favorite was the tip—leaking pre-cum which you were ready to swallow gladly. It tasted bitter, a testament to the coffee and cigarette he consumed regularly, but the rest of Suguru was sweet—all warm and soft touches on your face, roughened up when your voice gets higher and your whines beg him to use your body for his own pleasure.
“Fuck, you are sweet f’me.” He slurs, eyes rolling back and a sigh leaving his lips your hand wraps around the base. You stroke him eagerly, watching with intent eyes as his head rolls back and rests on the couch. Your clit tingles when you see the muscle of his arms flex, his hand twitching and you pray he would grip the back of your head with it. You moan around the tip when he does, and it sends Suguru spiraling.
“Holy shit,” his eyes shoot open when you start to bob your head, using both hands to stroke his cock up and down all whilst twisting. You combine the two actions, creating what Suguru believes is a recipe for trouble because he finds his one foot raising to the tips, trying to control the shakes that was going through his thighs. But to no avail.
You are unstoppable when you hear Suguru reach that part of his journey to his orgasm—when all self-control exits his body and his noises start sounding more of a recording of a high quality, fan favorite porn video. He is hissing, lips smacking as he tries to keep his noises in—he covers his face with his hand but soon realizes that he needs to grab onto something so now his face is uncovered and it’s a sight to see—flushed cheeks, sweaty forehead and lips parted as they bless your ears.
“Shit, oh shit, oh baby,” he sits up fully, hands holding your head as you continue your movements. You can’t see him now but you know that you can’t stop. You feel him fucking up into your mouth, eyes tearing up everytime the tip of his fat cock hits the back of your throat but it doesn’t matter—not when you were making Suguru cum.
“Fuck yeah keep going, just like that mm—“ his words are so encouraging, it makes you squeeze your thighs. You didn’t want to touch yourself because that would mean one less hand to stroke his cock. You weren’t willing to make that sacrifice when you knew your pussy was going to receive princess treatment after making your husband cum. “Oh fuck yes, yeah yeah—“
He cums with a loud string of profanities, emptying himself down your throat. You squeeze your eyes shut as his dick shoots thick ropes of cum, your hands resting on his knees as you slowly pull your mouth off of him. The living room is filled with breathing sounds, Suguru leans back to catch his breath and locks eyes with you right as you wipe your mouth with a proud, cock-drunk grin. There’s saliva coating your chin which you didn’t wipe off, so Suguru reaches a hand down and grabs your jaw.
“You are—fuck,” he laughs in disbelief, unable to wrap his head around the fact that you just gave him such a mind-blowing orgasm so randomly.
“Amazing?” you ask cheekily, letting him pull you on his lap as you straddle him. You purposely sit your ass on his limp dick, grinning when he hisses and his hands find your hips to grip them and keep you off of his cock. “Who says I’m done?” You tilt your head to the side and your husband stares at you with wide eyes when he feels you start grinding against his sensitive dick.
“How about another one, hm?”

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