#gojo satoru drabble

[v1x3n]

satoru gojo who's the biggest extrovert on the planet - hes always loud and chatty with everyone.

and it just so happens his soulmate is the biggest introvert on the planet - you're silent and antisocial, you barely speak up.

total opposites, so as every movie goes, he tries to get you out of your comfort zone.

he brings you to a party only for it to end in you slumped in the corner as many people surround you, to talk to satoru.

he buys you tight dresses, ones that show off your body. you have to admit you look amazing but the tightness overwhelms you and you trade it in for a nice pair of jeans.

months of him trying to drag you out of your comfort zone, pre dating and during, nothing gets you fully out. you're still not talkative, you're hesitate about physical touch, you don't go out much.

then as you're laying in his arms, your hair sticking to your face , you're fast asleep. a slight snore rolls from you as satoru is awake. he takes in the scent of your hair mixed with your shampoo - then he sighs. overpowering the silence.

he cant help but make peace with how quiet it currently is. as hes holding your body close and everything's calm - he realizes something.

he likes the silence. he likes how peaceful you are when you sleep - how your nose twitches every so often.

he likes being inside of your comfort zone for once - being apart of your world.

so from now on its satoru gojo who's still the biggest extrovert but instead of being loud and chatty with everyone - he isn't with you. hes calm, likes resting with you in silence, he uses a soft voice and the best part? its all for you.

[freaktoru]

. ۫ ꣑ৎ . satoru gojo is needy and rlly likes to cum inside!!

18+ MDNI

satoru gojo is one needy, pussy drunk, fuck. he’s quite literally the ceo of not being able to shut the fuck up—especially during sex.

“babyyyyy” he whines into the glistening skin of your neck, prodding your swollen, fucked out pussy with his cock. 

this is the fourth time satoru’s pushing into you tonight, whining and muttering in your ear about how it’s just not enough. for you, one round with satoru is all it takes to have your eyes rolling to the back of your head, and your breathing to quicken into shallow, shaky gasps. but for him? four times? baby, this is just the start.

“s-satoru—” you gasp at the sweet stretch, feeling him fully slide in his lengthy cock. “fuck baby—s-so tight” he stutters against your skin, placing soft, wet kisses along the stretch of your neck. he’s got you trapped in his favorite position—missionary—legs pushed back, hips locked in place with nowhere to escape.

“ ‘toru please s’ too much, n-no more” you whimper pathetically—nails desperately digging into his back, as he starts moving his hips, pushing himself in n out. 

“hah baby— feel s’good—gonna fuck you s-stupid on my cock” there he goes again, drunkenly slurring his words in your ear, ignoring your stupid pleas while he mercilessly overstimulates you with his cock.

“mmm ‘toru” the moan escapes your parted lips, your shaky breath ghosting over the now red, scratched up skin of his back.

“shh—shhh baby, take it, c’mon, take it for me” he groans, pairing each word with a deep, pleading thrust. and of course you will. how could you be so heartless and deny him like that?

“g-gonna let me cum in you baby?” he whispers against the shell of your ear, his warm breath sending a warm tingle of pleasure down your spine. 

“d-didn’t you already—”

“please baby cmon—fuck you feel s-so fucking good, let me just one m-more time” he cuts you off, mumbling against your skin and fucking you at the most deliciously agonizing pace. 

too fucked out to reply, you close your eyes, giving him a light, approving nod. no matter how much you deny it, in reality, you’d do anything satoru asks.

“mm yeahhh— good girl” he replies, coating your tight wet walls in his cum, ‘just one more time’.

[fgojous]

satoru loves your tits.

there’s no explanation. he just loves it. he loves squeezing it, pinching it, massaging it, biting it and even slapping it lightly with his big ass veiny hand.

he’s so weird but you love him anyway.

there are times where you’re just on the couch—scrolling on your phone, he’ll collapse on you and the first thing he does? bury his face on your cleavage and his hands were already squeezing it—softly, then not-so-soft and you’ll whine and he’ll just laugh.

when you’re cooking breakfast? he’ll hug you from behind, slip his hands under your shirt and he’ll squish your tits while smelling your neck.

and he’ll giggle like a lovesick teenager while doing it.

when you’re in bed and he spoons you? his hands?

yeah, you guessed it. on your tits—just resting on top, and he falls asleep with his hands on your chest and you’d giggle hearing him mumble so soft just before he falls asleep.

sometimes he’ll squish it too tight and you’ll swat his hand away. and he’ll give you this annoying yet cute pout. like he’s going to die when he doesn’t get his hands on you.

then he’ll make you give him a tit job for allegedly hurting his feelings by saying you’ve forbidden him from holding your tits—talk about dramatic.

and he loves it when you’re on top. because he gets to see it bounce on his face, he gets to push them together and suck it on his mouth.

then the next morning, you’ll see your chest littered with hickeys.

but yeah. you love him anyway. even if he calls you my big tittie girlfriend! with hearts in his eyes, but it’s okay, cause you love biting his ass when he turns his back on you.

[tojis-girl]

fratboy!satoru dating nerd!reader was an odd mix. you two never really liked the same things - there was one thing you both liked though and that was libraries. separate reasons though.

fratboy!satoru mumbled into your ear - telling you that you were a good girl and were doing so soo well for him!

fratboy!satoru whos large hand made its way up and down your thigh, comforting you while you wrote something down in your note pad.

nerd!readers who cunt was warming up fratboy!satoru dick, your warmth making his tip dribble out cum. your sat on him innocently but underneath the skirt you wore was anything but innocent.

you whine when you feel his dick twitch inside of you but he just tells you to continue with your notes.

fratboy!satoru who finds it interesting how your constantly reading and writing but the moment a dick enters you - you wanna do anything but!

fratboy!satoru who tells you to shut up, harshly digging his nails into your plush thigh as a punishment when your mewls grow to be a little too loud.

he doesnt want anyone else to hear the pretty sounds you make!

"Shut up, princess, or itll be even worse later."

[yuukiiqwq]

Satoru was confident that you liked him back. He was positive. He had no doubt in his mind that you were going to be his pretty little wife. Is he getting ahead of himself? Sure, he is, but he's that confident. That's until he noticed how he hadn't received any chocolate from you.

It was Valentine's Day, and he still hasn't received any chocolate from you. Yeah, he had a mountain worth of chocolate from all those people who gave him it, but where was yours? He couldn't find it anywhere. He was sure that you would have placed your chocolate on his desk since you hadn't given him his. He double no triple checked all the chocolates, yet he could not find the one that has your pretty little name written on it. He continued to search through the chocolate pile for the fourth time today.

He must have missed it, right? Or did someone steal it? He swear he's going to hunt that person to the end of the Earth. Who dared to steal something that was rightfully his?

"Satoru, calm down."

He looked up at his best friend, who was trying to hold down a laugh at his panic.

"She'll probably give it to you later. The day just begun."

Right. Suguru is right. You'll give him his chocolate later. He's a good boy. He can wait.

That's what he told himself, but Suguru and Shoko have already received theirs this morning, and his is still nowhere to be found. Where is his chocolate? You're just sitting there in your seat, looking all pretty as if Satoru is not going through a huge dilemma because of you.

He couldn't help his hands that kept inching itself closer to the chocolate you gave Suguru. He wouldn't know if he snatched it, right? Suguru had received a lot of chocolate! He wouldn't know if he took it... was what he convinced himself before Suguru slapped his hand away.

"Satoru," he sighs.

"But Suguru!!!" Satoru whined as he sunk down into his seat.

"Be patient. You'll get yours soon."

But how soon is soon? Satoru isn't exactly known for his patient.

It was the end of the day, and still no chocolate from you. He asked Suguru and Shoko to leave first because he thought you would finally give it to him when both of you were alone. But you haven't. Where was his chocolate?

The two of you were approaching the exit of school, so Satoru made a quick decision, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into an empty classroom. He quickly shut the door and locked it.

"Satoru?" You asked in confusion. "What's wrong?"

"My chocolate."

"Your chocolate?"

"My chocolate from you! The symbol of your love towards me!"

"I didn't make you any," you replied smoothly. "Forgot to make them yesterday, so I woke up early today to make them, but I guess not early enough. I only had time to finish Shoko's and Suguru's. I didn't have time to make yours. Otherwise, I would have been late."

Satoru swear the world just ended. He looked down at his chest because he swears his heart ripped out of his chest at your words. Nope. Still alive. Why is he still alive in this cruel world? You had no chocolate for him? None? Not even a crumb?

"That's fine with you, right? I mean, you got a bunch of chocolate from other girls! You don't need mine."

He swear he is about to burst into tears. He didn't care about other girls. He didn't care about their chocolate. He wanted yours. How could you be so cruel and deny him of your chocolate? To reject him like this? He was devastated. No. Beyond devastated. Where is the closest cliff so he can jump off?

Pure silence radiated the room as Satoru tried to comprehend this horrible situation. Then he heard a small giggle slip pass your lips. That small giggle soon turns into a full-out laugh.

"You should have seen the look on your face, Satoru," you say as you try to stop laughing.

Was this funny to you? Why were you laughing at his suffering? Do you know how much he looked forward to today? To receive the cute little wrapped up chocolate you made for him? He dreamed of today, and you didn't have chocolate for him?

He then sees you reach into your bag and pull out exactly what he had imagined. A cute little chocolate box wrapped up in a baby blue color with a touch of white ribbon to finish it off. Fuck. He thinks he just got a heart attack seeing your chocolate. His chocolate.

"Princess, please don't joke like that to me ever again. You scared me half to death. I was going to jump off a cliff," he whined as he took the chocolate from your hand.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his dramatic behavior. "Stop being dramatic, Satoru. It's just chocolate."

A look of offense dawned his face as you utter those horrendous words to him.

"Chocolate? Just chocolate?" He huffed at you. He can't believe you as you treat this amazing god send gift as just chocolate. "Don't you dare call this just chocolate! This! This right here is proof of your undying love towards me!"

You laughed at his antics– "You're getting ahead of yourself, Satoru."

He delicately placed the chocolate safety away in his bag, treating it as a prized possession. He's looking forward towards white day. He already knows what he wants to get for you. He pulled you into a hug, nuzzling his face against your neck as he mutters– "You won't be saying that after I wife you up."

[satorusweetheart]

munch gojo <3

hovering over the bridge of his nose, you can feel his breath against your pussy. his hands work endlessly to grope the fat of your ass, spreading your lips apart in the process.

“i told you to sit on it— not fuckin float over” he grunts, pulling you down onto his pretty face.

his tongue pokes into your little cunt, stretching around his thick muscle as it traces your velvet walls. he guides your hips, letting you hump his mouth. it’s so much; so intense, your eyes roll back as he makes out with your warm pussy.

“fuck yeah,” he groans against your lips, lapping up your arousal. “i’m so fuckin hard.”

you can year him shuffling, his hands loosening their hold on you and as you turn your head, you see his cock springing free. his tip is already so sloppy, coated in more pre cum then you’ve seen in the past. he jerks himself off with a firey passion, moaning into your body, sending the vibrations up your spine.

“cum on my face, baby,” he begs, voice sounding oh-so whiny. his deserpation only causes you to grind faster, chasing your orgasm as the heat between your legs spreads throughout your body.

his tongue. his hand around his cock. his nose hitting against your clit is enough to drive you over the edge and while you squeal out, he only shoves his face deeper. he eats away at your cunt like a child eager to lick their plate clean.

[alygator77]

──little things like this

a/n. just something small i felt like writing 🫶🏻 what i imagine grocery shopping with satoru would be like.

cw. domestic fluff. dad! satoru. husband! satoru. and just... satoru being satoru. also, he's missing you (like, a lot).

You should’ve known better than to bring him.

It was supposed to be a quick trip—milk, eggs, veggies, rice, soy sauce. Easy. You had dinner planned and everything. His favorite—the one he always says you make better than anyone. The one he begged you to cook the first night he stayed over, back when you were still figuring each other out in that too-small apartment with the broken stove and mismatched bowls. He used to sit barefoot on the counter, freshly showered, stealing bites before you could plate anything.

But now?

Now you’re married to Satoru Gojo, and he’s pushing your daughter through a grocery store like it’s the highlight of his week—sunglasses shoved into his windblown white hair, sleeves rolled to his elbows, a smug grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

He’d just come off a string of missions, barely enough time to breathe between them, but when you mentioned needing to grab a few things, he immediately offered to come. Said he missed you. Said he wanted to do “normal stuff.”

Which might’ve sounded sweet, sure—until somewhere between produce and frozen foods, he completely veered off-script. And now, fifteen minutes in, your cart is a sugar bomb. Sour gummies. Five flavors of Pocky. A jumbo bag of marshmallows no one in your household has ever requested.

Though here he is, your husband, pushing your cart with one hand, lighting up in pure joy at every little treat you come across through the aisles.

“Satoru Gojo…” you deadpan as he reaches for a pack of cookies. “That is not on the list.”

Clicking his tongue, he holds them up like a sacred offering.

“Buuut… neither were you,” he hums, batting those ridiculously pretty blue eyes. “And yet—best thing I ever brought home.”

Narrowing your eyes, he smirks.

“’toru…” you sigh. “I really don’t think we need more sugar in this cart.”

Tilting his head, he pretends to ponder. “Need? …nah,” he tosses them in the basket anyway. “But, deserve? Absolutely.”

Rolling your eyes, you turn back to the list on your phone. You have… what—three items checked off? You’re pretty sure Satoru has added at least seven more. And, he seems to be multiplying his haul by the minute.

As you make your way down the next aisle, your daughter’s delighted squeal draws your attention. Glancing over your shoulder, there is Satoru—holding up two bags of candy to her like a game show host.

“Mmkay princess… choose wisely,” he whispers, low and dramatic. “Red or blue. You get one.”

Babbling, her little hands reach forward, grasping for the blue one.

“Ahhh… strong choice,” he nods, handing it over. And then, with zero shame, he drops the red bag into the cart behind her back.

“Ahem…” you squint, and he straightens. “You said one?”

“What? She picked hers,” he says, all innocence, sliding his sunglasses down onto the bridge of his nose. “This one’s mine.”

You groan, laughing despite yourself, as he resumes pushing the cart—now like it’s a racecar, swerving down the aisle while your daughter giggles.

“Please don’t teach her to shop like you,” you call out.

“Too late~” he sing-songs, vanishing around the corner, muttering under his breath, “Drifting into dairy… snack thrusters engaged…”

You sigh—but there’s no real frustration in it. Just warmth. Familiarity. Love.

Because sometimes you forget—you’re not in that cramped apartment anymore, counting coins and comparing brands. Not since Satoru. You still catch yourself reaching for the cheapest option, still instinctively scan barcodes and double-check price tags. But he never even looks. He just fills the cart like it’s second nature. Like full shelves and soft snacks and mochi picked on a whim are things you deserve.

You’re still learning how to live like this—where love doesn’t feel like a debt, and money isn’t something to fear. And even though he could buy out the entire store without blinking, he still treats picking out snacks with you like it’s the most important thing he’ll do all week.

Shaking your head, you turn back to the list. Soy sauce. You still need soy sauce for his dinner.

But as you round the corner, you don’t find the aisle you’re looking for—you find him instead, crouched in front of the freezer, elbows resting on his knees, two tubs of ice cream in hand.

Why is he studying them like he’s trying to defuse a bomb? He looks… entirely perplexed.

“Satoru…” you step up beside him, brow raised. “You good?”

“Oh. Yeah.” He doesn’t look up. “Just, uh… evaluating options.”

Glancing down at the tubs—matcha and black sesame—you fold your arms.

“Umm… you evaluating them for fun, or is this, like, an actual crisis?”

“Mmm… crisis is a strong word,” he mutters, still avoiding your gaze. “It’s just… strategy. Y’know. Ice cream strategy.”

Crouching down beside him, you rest your hand on his knee.

“Uh-huh…?”

There’s a pause.

Then, he sighs through his nose. “Alright… fine. I… couldn’t remember which one you liked more,” he admits. “I thought it was matcha. But then I remembered that one week you wouldn’t touch it, so now I’m stuck here like a dumbass, spiraling in the frozen aisle…”

You try not to laugh. “You’re spiraling over ice cream?”

“I’m spiraling because it’s you,” he huffs. “I wanted to surprise you… thought maybe we could stay up late and eat it in bed like we used to?”

Your teasing slips away, replaced with something soft.

“Oh… Satoru.”

He shrugs, like it’s no big deal, but there’s something in the way his voice lowers when he speaks again.

“I just… dunno. It feels like it’s been forever. Between missions, work, parenting—you’ve been running around nonstop. I just wanted tonight to feel kinda normal again. After dinner—after the princes goes to bed. Just… us? Even if it’s just ice cream.”

You watch him for a beat—your husband, who can bend reality, stand at the edge of the world, and still get hung up over picking the right tub of ice cream for you.

“I… like them both,” you mumble, bumping his shoulder gently against yours. “So why not both?”

He exhales like it physically relieves him. “Oh, thank god.”

You both stand, and without hesitation, he tosses both tubs into the basket.

“But… don’t go picking at mine and then pretending you didn’t like that flavor, okay?”

Grinning, you step ahead of him.

“Oh, I will steal yours. That’s marriage, babe.”

With a quiet laugh, he falls into step behind you.

“Brat.”

By the time you reach checkout, your cart holds three kinds of mochi ice cream, a suspiciously large bag of seaweed snacks, and absolutely no bread. Your daughter’s holding her bag of candy like it’s a stuffed animal, fussing while you try to scan it, and you’re juggling a reusable bag, along with what’s left of your patience while she begins to cry.

Noticing your frustration, Satoru slips in, insisting on scanning everything himself—for you. But when the self-checkout machine beeps loudly, his brows furrow and he pouts.

“The fuck? I did scan the damn carrots…” he mutters, narrowing his eyes, fumbling with the touch screen. “Don’t gaslight me... stupid thing..."

You sigh, somehow his presence makes the monotony feel… warm. And though this ‘quick trip’ has become what feels like an all-day event, you can’t deny how much you have also missed this man.

Outside, the air is soft with the promise of evening. Your daughter’s nodding off in her car seat, still hugging the candy bag like a teddy bear. Satoru loads the bags into the trunk with a proud little huff, dusting off his hands like he’s accomplished something huge.

“See?” he says, flashing a grin as he climbs into the passenger seat. “Told you grocery shopping as a family would be fun.”

You glance at the receipt. Then at him.

“You spent more in the snack aisle than on actual food….”

“I live off sugar and love. You know this.”

You roll your eyes, laughing under your breath as you slide into the driver’s seat. But as you buckle your seatbelt and glance down at the grocery list again, your heart sinks a little.

Did you…? Fuck.

You forgot the soy sauce.

Exhaling slowly, your gaze drifts over to Satoru in the passenger seat—slouched comfortably, eyes closed, perfectly content. The fading sun glows across his face, catching the edges of his smile.

“Y’know… I was gonna make your favorite tonight.”

His eyes open slowly. “Oh yeah?”

You nod. “But… we forgot the soy sauce.”

"...oh." He grimaces, genuinely. “Shit… I really thought I grabbed it,” he scratches the back of his head. “Want me to run back in real quick?”

You pause, then look at your daughter sleeping in the rearview mirror. Her gentle snore. The quiet hum of the car. The warmth in the air.

“No…” you murmur. “It’s fine.”

“You sure?”

You look at him again, and it hits you—not the ice cream, not the dinner. Little things like… this. Him. Her. This whole imperfect evening.

“Yeah… let’s get takeout,” you say, shifting the car into reverse. “We'll cuddle in bed. Split some ice cream.”

He smiles again, slow and warm.

“Deal.”

[teddybeartoji]

18+ mdni; gn!reader

satoru likes jerking off in front of a mirror. no, scratch that – he fucking loves doing it.

fully bare, he sits on the bed in front of a body length mirror. the sun peeks from the window, kissing the freckles and scars on his body. there's a pink flush to his skin - his chest, his neck, his cheeks, the tips of his ears; he feels warm all over.

thighs spread wide open, he's leaned back on his one arm while his eyes are glued to his reflection in the mirror. his own hand feels hot on his tummy as he trails them over his pecs and his perked nipples. they're awfully sensitive and satoru can't help but hiss when he gives them a little squeeze. his bottom lip gets caught between his teeth and his dick twitches. he's so fucking hard.

pre-cum leaks from his aching tip, all swollen and deprived. he's been sitting here for a good while now – he loves edging himself; he conjures up the prettiest pictures of you in his head as he trails over his abs. he thinks about it being yours instead. your hand, your fingers.

he plays with his happy trail as he thinks about you nuzzling your face in it. his dick jumps again and he let's out a shaky laugh.

finally deciding to give in, he wraps his fingers around the base of his cock and his eyes almost cross at the touch. but he refuses to shut them – still keeping them trained on his own body through the reflection in front of him. he tightens his fist as he pushes down a little, putting more pressure onto his sensitive balls.

his head lolls to the side as he watches a glob of pre-cum slide down the side of his shaft. he thinks about you licking it up. he thinks about you giving his aching dick a kiss. his pearly white teeth sink into the plush flesh of his lower lip, almost strong enough to draw blood when he moves his fist up, twisting his wrist as he goes over the leaky tip.

his hair is tousled and he's starting to sweat – he looks fucking good. all the work he's putting in at the gym is really showing under the afternoon sun; his muscles look more defined with the layer of sweat glistening over them and he's proud of what he's seeing. it's hot. he isn't afraid to admit that he thinks that he's sexy, that he looks amazing like this. even his cock looks pretty; rock hard and pink, pre-cum weeping from the slit as it bounces at every thought of you inside his head.

you and your gorgeous smile. you and your loving eyes. you and your stupid jokes. you and your... body. he feels like a bit of a creep thinking about you in such dirty ways when you're not even his.

yet.

pushing off his hand, he spreads his legs a little wider as he leans forward, getting more comfortable. his fingers stay wrapped around his length while his free hand goes to his stomach. he's so sensitive to every single sensation – no matter whether it's from his own touch or somebody else's.

he discovered something new a few days ago... his belly button is sensitive, too. he pumps his cock slowly, almost painflully so as he traces his navel. goosebumps raise on his skin despite him feeling anything but cold; his head feels dizzy in the best way possible, his tummy nice and warm. satoru circles the hole before pushing the tip of his finger in. it's feels so weird and so fucking good.

the sight of him sort of fingering his own belly button is strange, but satoru has never been one to stray from experimentation. he loves to try new things, he loves to have fun – and if a silly thing like this makes him feel so ridiculously good, then so be it. he's not gonna be ashamed of that.

he can't wait to let you do it to him either. he's even a bit excited to see your reaction to the offer – would you be weirded out or would you be into it? would you tease him for it, call him names? tell him that he's a freak? a pervert? he pushes into the tiny hole a little harder at the thought of you making fun of him, his fist tightening around his cock.

he spits down onto his cock and speeds up just a little, enjoying the slick sounds that fill the room. he stares at his own adam's apple, he watches it bob as he swallows. he thinks about having something down his throat. he thinks about how it would look, how it would feel. he moves his free hand to touch the sensitive skin of his neck and puts some pressure on it – the broken moan that ripples from him echoes around the whole apartment and he just wishes you were here to listen to him.

his eyes are low as they set on his heavy cock again. he tries to imagine his hand as your own – he needs to do it. he wants you to touch him so badly, he wants you to make him feel good. of course, he thinks about making you feel good aswell; he spends so, so much time on thinking about giving you head. about the way you'd taste, the way you'd whine and whimper. how you'd squirm below him as he fucks you into overstimulation. but he does like to think about you down on his knees in front of him too. he wants to be greedy. he is greedy.

taking his hand from his neck, he now cups his balls with a pleased sigh. he massages them, letting his own spit and cum cover them completely. it's messy, just the way he likes it. he feels it dripping down to his asshole and he can't keep his lips from tugging upward. his eyes trail up his body through the reflection – his sweaty abs, his pecs, his flushed neck; his plump and now a little swollen lips and the pink tint that's dusted across his cheekbones. he's quite fond of his dimples and he loves seeing them. he thinks they make him even better looking, more charming. they do.

satoru thinks about the way you always poke them whenever you have the chance. would you do it now too that he's here jerking off to disgusting thoughts of you like the needy boy that he is? he thinks about the way you like to rest your head on his shoulder and hide your face into the crook of his neck whenever he tries to tease you a little. how warm your breath feels on his skin. how your lips brush against his pulse point.

fuck.

as he fondles with his balls, he gnaws on his lip because he needs to feel more. he wants you to bite it instead, he wants you to play with him instead. taking his hand from his crotch, he lets it travel all over his body again – his thighs, his waist, his lower tummy. everything feels so fucking good. his hips buck up into his fist when his fingers dance around his belly button once more. his head lolls back but he never takes his eyes off from himself in the mirror. he moves up to massage his pecs now, his sensitive nipples. he wants to feel your tongue on them. he can't stop thinking about it – your teethmarks around the buds, the bruises you'd leave behind.

he grinds his cock into the tight little hole he's made with his hand, lips permanently stretched into a sick grin because he knows it's coming already. the knot in his tummy keeps tightening, his need growing with every stroke he makes. he thinks about holding it off but decides that he won't do it today; he's meeting you in an hour – he's going to have to jerk off again after that anyway.

satoru plays with his nipple while rubbing the swollen tip of his cock with his palm and oh, fuck he's close. he thinks about how warm you'd feel around him. he thinks about your pretty face. he makes his fist even smaller and humps into it, mainly focusing on the tip. it's just so sensitive and it feels so fucking good. he thinks about you wrapping your lips around it, about you licking at the slit. he thinks about your smile. how much better your hand would feel on him. the wet noises that emit from the friction between his fingers and his cock make his heart beat even faster – dirty, dirty, dirty. he thinks about recording the sounds and sending them to you. he thinks about videoing himself through the mirror; he wants you to see what he's seeing.

every twitch and every spasm, the muscles he's worked so hard on, his dimples, his fingers, the mess he's making for you. he rubs his free hand over his tummy, his belly button and he thinks about your eyes and—

white spurts of cum land on his hands and his belly and his happy trail. satoru moans with a smile on his face - he doesn't hold back, now finally letting his eyes close as his head falls back. he keeps fucking into his fist despite how much it feels. he loves it.

after a good few seconds, he finally cracks open his eyes and peeks at himself again. he looks like a mess. it's perfect. he let's go off his softening dick, focusing on the cum adorning his skin instead. he takes a finger and swipes through the thick liquid; he drags it all over his lower stomach, playing with it like a child. he pushes some of it into his belly button and chuckles breathlessly at his own silly antics. he doesn't care.

his phone dings, signaling an incoming message and to his delight – it's you. satoru hums at the sight. it's a simple text, just something about buying him sweets from the store but it has his dick twitching against his thigh again.

maybe he has time for a round two before meeting you...

+ everybody say thank you logan we love you @staryukis this one is for you baby<333333

[fayerie]

a kiss is never enough for gojo - not when he’s got you.

gojo’s mouth is an unrelenting worshipper, claiming your tits like they’re the only thing in the world that matters.

his lips are glossy, pressing sloppy, desperate kisses all over your skin, leaving a slick trail of saliva that makes your nerves ignite all over again, he swirls his tongue around your nipple, slow and purposeful, like he’s tasting you for the first time. then, his teeth catch it - not hard enough to hurt, but with that perfect teasing nip that has you gasping and crumbling under his attention.

his hand cups your breast, fingers kneading gently - kneading with a mix of possessiveness and reverence, as if he’s trying to memorize the weight and warmth of you. then he dips his head lower, flicking his tongue against the other nipple, his breath now ragged.

you can feel the way his mouth sucks and pulls, the slick, wet sounds filling the room, mingling with your gasps and soft moans. your hands find his hair instantly, tangling in those white strands, pulling him closer, begging without words for more.

his eyes meet yours just for a moment, that smirk tugging at his lips as he murmurs against your skin, “mmm..you like that, baby?”

you’re drowning in this sensation - his mouth, his hands, the way he worships every inch of you like you’re a goddamn miracle.

then, almost cruelly slow, he flicks his tongue over your nipple again, teasing, dragging it out until you’re trembling. his fingers squeeze and roll your other breast, thumb circling your nipple in perfect rhythm with his mouth’s ministrations. the slick heat between your legs deepens, burning brighter with every breathless gasp he drags out of you.

you’re helpless, caught in his act of worship, and honestly, you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else right now.

[satorena]

࣪ ִֶָ☾. an ugly, green eyed monster resides in the pits of your guts, and to his utmost confusion— don’t you know he has eyes for you only?

cw. 18+. lowkey sub gojo. a littleee foot action. reverse cowgírl. cunningulūs. sorta ruined orgașm. fem!reader. 3k wc.

you’re upset.

you’re upset with him.

what he’d thought had been the perfect date at the perfect restaurant with the most perfect partner, had positively gone to shit, and he’s not sure who’s to blame. himself or that unnecessarily audacious waitress— who might get blacklisted as soon as he gets home for having the nerve to foul his girlfriend’s mood.

(but not you. you’re never to blame. you can literally do no wrong in his eyes.)

he tries to ease the tension in his sleek car by talking your ear off about god knows what, reminds you how beautiful you look in your suede dress, rubs the pad of his thumb at the smooth skin of your thigh— but to no avail, you remain as quiet as you’d been back in that crappy establishment.

after all, there’s only so many “wow’s”, “insane’s,” and “that’s crazy’s” you can muster. . . right?

wrong.

because when you both make it to your shared condo, he hangs his keys on their respective hanger and immediately kneels on one knee. you don’t seem surprised in the slightest— and he’d be a horrible boyfriend if you had been, you deserve nothing short of the ultimate princess package — arms crossed over your chest expectantly.

and just who is he to disappoint you?

his fingers get to work with quickness— expertly as they undo the straps of your heels. he can’t imagine the pain your gorgeous feet endure just for the sake of his lowly self. so he grants you a short but tender foot rub where your skin reddens. his knuckles ease some tension where it throbs, and the soft hum you release is enough to bring a smile on his lips.

he’s finally doing something right.

you roll your ankle once he’s finished his caress, face as stoic as ever, but before you can even think about resting your foot on the floor, he lowers himself and kisses. he peppers the ankle bone in hot, gentle kisses that come from the depths of his soul, and trails his way up from your calf all the way up to your mid thigh. when he lays down the last of his embrace to your leg, cerulean eyes flutter open and meet yours— eyes narrow just slightly.

he doesn’t falter in the slightest, parroting every movement onto the next leg. he undoes the straps of your heels, massages your foot, and spoils your leg in kisses once more. there isn’t an inch of you that doesn’t smell nothing short of divine.

but the moment fleets as soon as it came, and you make your way to your shared bedroom in the blink of an eye. his knee may ache against the hard floor, but he finds it impossible to keep his eyes off of you— there’s a certain elegance in every step you take towards the bedroom, hips swaying with divine femininity, fingers fumbling as they work to undo the hook at the top of your dress.

it’s only when you arrive at the door, that you take a beat of a pause. he doesn’t take his eyes off of you once. he doesn’t think he could if he wanted to, anyway. there’s a pregnant silence in the air, safe from the ticking of the clock in the living room. it seems you’ve finally managed, as your arms lower to rest at your sides and your dress slips comedically slow from your frame and pools at your ankles.

his dick immediately stirs to life. you’d gone commando this whole time. and it’s only when your hand hovers over the knob of the door, you cast him a look over your shoulder, the ghost of a smirk tugging at your coloured lips. you step out of the dress and waltz into your shared space, and he doesn’t think he’s ever ran this fast in his life, tumbling over scattered items in the house in desperate attempts to get to you.

(he picks up your fallen dress of course.)

oh, you’re so beautiful yet so cruel. he admires the duality you carry with ease— like a deceitful siren luring pathetic fishermen into the sea, he falls for your trap with no regards of his own safety, enamoured by your entire existence.

which was how he found himself bound to your king sized bed, limbs restrained to the headrest and his cock throbbing in his tight slacks. he’s flushed from the neck up— he’s so hard it hurts, watching as you pay him absolutely no mind, carrying on with your nightly routine. the anticipation drives him insane, as you pace from the bathroom, the sound of the shower running, before pacing back to your bedroom, grabbing your essentials before heading back to the bathroom.

all the while adorned in your birthday suit. wet and naked— his favorite combination.

god, you’re cruel.

after an infinity and a half, you come out of the bathroom, now wrapped in your silk robe, hair tied up and face completely bare. christ— just when he thought you couldn’t get any prettier. you sit at your vanity, grabbing at whatever tools you needed for your lash care, and that’s his final straw.

“princess,” he croaks, hoping he sounds as desperate as he feels. you tilt your head back, expression entirely remorseless, though you do cock a brow. he swallows harshly, “c’mon, untie me already. please?”

you blink at him, spoolie in hand, “for what?”

for what? isn’t it obvious? for him to grab at your hips, pull you over his face and tongue fuck you so raw that he erases all traces of negative emotions in your soul that’d come to life within the past few hours and have you forgive him of any wrongdoing.

duh.

gojo’s a smarter man and keeps those thoughts to himself. instead, he heaves out a deep sigh that kins to a whine and shifts his hips, “to properly apologize, baby.”

you turn your focus back onto your own reflection in the mirror, running the brush over your lash extensions. even when you pretend to ignore him, you’re beautiful. he doesn’t miss the way you cast him look through the glass though, “well what’s stopping you?”

he tugs his wrists against his ties restricting him as an answer, an exasperated look coating his face. truthfully, he could’ve easily managed his way out of this predicament but then he’d have to deal with your attitude worsening. he’s already on your bad side and doesn’t wish to stay there longer. so, he’s willing to sit this torture out just to have you forgive him.

but good lord, his balls hurt.

you put the spoolie down and sigh. hope blooms in his chest as you stand up from your vanity and make your way towards the bed. as you begin to crawl into bed, he spreads his legs a little further, creating an opening in case you were to change your mind. you have an unreadable expression on your pretty face, and he can’t lie, it’s kind of worrying him.

and turning him on, but fork spotted in kitchen, right?

you take the bait and make your way in between his legs. though, instead of releasing him from his restriction, you sit criss cross and give him a long look. his chest heaves and he’s starting to feel like those madmen scientists that come close to achieving whatever bullshit project they’d poured years of their lives into.

you don’t falter, however, “you want to properly apologize?”

he nods eagerly, like a puppy trying to please its owner, and frankly, that’s exactly what it is. some may call him desperate— pathetic even, but they’ve never came close to having the god earned blessing of having you as their partner. and they never will, so respectfully, they can shut the fuck up.

“that’s all i want.” he emphasizes, and for extra measure, “let me say sorry the best way i know how.”

he watches the gears turn in your pretty head. and, with a convictive nod, you stretch your arms backwards to support your body weight as you bend your knees and spread your legs. and whether or not you meant to send him to the great court in the sky, you swipe your tongue against your index and middle finger, before crawling them down your stomach and right at your cunt, spreading your lips apart in a filthy fucking sound.

his eyes might as well pop out of their sockets in heart shapes as his jaw falls slack. he thinks he hears his stomach growl in hunger, eyes narrowing at the sight of the meal he craves most. your robe slips past your shoulder and reveals a sexy amount of collarbone and boob, while simultaneously slipping past your hips, revealing the cash prize.

your dripping pussy.

his throat runs dry as all rational thoughts are immediately thrown out the window. if he doesn’t have your cunt in his mouth this instant, he might actually die. she clenches around nothing and trickles a tantalizing trail of slick. you have the world’s prettiest smile on your lips, and despite deriving pleasure from his demise, he’d gladly let you ruin him if it got you this turned on.

“thought you wanted to apologize, toru?” you ask him, with feigned innocence and a tilt of your head. and if the cutesy bat of your lashes wasn’t enough to kill him, then dragging your foot over the print of his bulge definitely did. you rest the arch of your heel over his shaft and experimentally roll it around. he didn’t even consider he was into foot play, but coming from you? another box checked from his kink list.

he groans, hips chasing the pleasure set ablaze in his fiery guts, “god— i do. i really, really do,” lord knows if you keep this up, he’s never going to beat the minute man allegations. and frankly? he doesn’t care.

“but i’m right here,” you coo, lowering your foot to cradle at where resides his heavy balls. you nudge at the sack and the whimper that follows his lips cracks a pity pout on your own, “what’s the hold up?”

this psychological ass torture. at this rate, he figures you know he knows he can free himself out of the ties at any given moment. but doing so would definitely upset you. and the chances of him getting some would be slim to absolutely none.

you beautiful yet painfully cruel woman.

“you know what’s the hold up,” he groans, fighting both inner demons and the urge to paint his boxers white, “at this point, you don’t even need to untie me— just let me eat you out, please.”

and like the angel sent from heaven you are, you comply. had he been released from the binding, he’d gladly be kicking his feet in the air and twirling a strand of snowy locks in his fingers in pure bred excitement. except, in the position he’s in, that outcome is not possible. but never fear— munch man is here!

and with his back pressed against the headboard, you stand on the bed, your feet at each side of his hips, and bend forward— not without a quick look back and a knowing smirk of course. and from this angle, with your spine dipping into a sinful curve, he’s presented with a view that puts the goddess of beauty herself to shame.

the roundness of your ass paired with the fullness of your cunt— a two for once combo. hell fucking yeah.

and he wastes no time. he stretches his neck as far as it allows him to and then some, as he indulges into the five star michelin meal that is your pussy. with your arms stretched out and your hands supporting your body’s weight, you moan gracefully into the quiet of the night, your sounds unfortunately overshadowed by the slurping of his filthy mouth at your sloppy core. if he was a better man, he’d have reduced his own volume at the expense of hearing yours,

but it was just so hard when you tasted so good.

and like the selfish bastard he is, he doesn’t quiet down. doesn’t even think to, instead voicing out his delights in the art of cunningulus. yes, because being blessed with the opportunity to have your pussy in his mouth is nothing short of art itself. he flicks his tongue from that sensitive bundle of nerves and drags it up to your tight hole, and tongue fucks the shit out of you.

“s-shit, baby,” a soft mewl comes from your voice. he feels a hand caress his hair, and when your manicured nails claw at those locks, he feels his cock jump eagerly in his pants, “that’s it— fuck, eat it right.”

he’s a weak, weak man. you grind your hips back on his face and praise him for doing what he was put on this earth to do, all the while riding his tongue. he flattens the muscle and lets you use him like the toy he is— up and about for your pleasure, always. if he died suffocating between your plush thighs, don’t mourn his death, because he went out doing the thing he loved,

you.

it feels like both forever and a second when he’s rewarded with your juices. you wail and cry out his name, and before he knows it, you’re gushing all over him— his nose, his mouth, his chin. to the best of his abilities, he widens his jaw and slurps everything you have to offer him. the taste is so authentically you, a sweet nectar you couldn’t pull out of the ripest of fruits from a tree. his face is moist and damp and the only thought process going through his mushy brain is don’t cum just yet don’t cum just yet don’t cum just yet.

luckily, he doesn’t, but you’re not done just yet. because it doesn’t take anymore than a few breaths for him to catch up on unsolicited air, before a deep and boyish moan rips out of his chest like wind had gotten knocked out of him.

in all your glory, you squat down— he’d been too dazed out to even notice when you’d taken his brick hardened dick out— and ride him. you’re pulling out all the big guns— both hands and feet planted on the mattress, your silk robe resting right above your lower back, as you sink down on him.

gods, it takes everything in him— everything, to not bust. his fingers tighten against themselves as his toes curl, and his head is thrown back, but even so, he never takes his eyes off of you. the ripples of your ass ricocheting with each bounce, the amplified bass of your cries, the melody of your wetness squelching on his cock.

why the fuck would he ever look away?

your pace is steady and fast— you are by no means wasting time. and he loves it just like that, quick and meaningless despite his love for you being everything but that. every meet of your ass on his hips comes as fast as the last one, and tugs on the coiling in his stomach ready to snap.

sweat begins to collect at his hairline, and given the fact you’d sprayed him earlier, he’s certain his hair is now matted to his forehead. no matter though, “justtt like that,” he eggs you on, knowing despite your foul mood, there’s nothing you enjoy more than praises. there’s nothing he enjoys more than praising you, “use me baby, this dick ‘s all yours— fuckkk,”

and because he knows his princess so well, you ride him even harder— his sincere words running like fuel to you. he notices your creamed unison coating the peremiter of his dick, glazing his shaft to the point he can barely feel himself in you because of how wet everything feels.

“damn— ‘m not gonna last,” he warns you, and to his biggest mistake. his balls are heavy with love he’s itching to release in your womb, and if you keep jerking at his cock with your gummy walls, he’s bound to spill. he blames it on it being the first round, after all.

you tilt your head back and there’s a mischievous glint in your pretty eyes. you bat your lashes a few times, and the corner of your lips tug into a radiant smile, “yeah? you wanna cum inside, baby?” there is literally nothing more he wants. he nods his head excessively, not enough languages in this entire world to describe in words just how badly he needs to fill you up with his sperm.

but still, he tries with moot point, “yesyesyesyes— fuck, i’ll do anything,”

and with purposeful kegels, you clamp down on his cock whenever you bottom out and latch onto his tip whenever you sit up. he can’t take anymore— he feels heat licking at every extremity of his limbs, blood rushing into his head and his abdominal muscles are caving in. he needs it— he needs it.

at the very last second, just as the dam is ready to break and release— you pull away.

his eyes widen before snapping shut as his orgasm washes over him anyways. his cock springs out of your warmth and rests at the crack of your ass, and shoots. he’s soiling your gown in his nut, and you slip a hand between your thighs to cradle his twitching balls. his back arches at your touch, and somehow, shoots double his average load.

“aweee,” you coo condescendingly while fondling his privates, giving him both the best and worst time of his life, “‘s too bad i’m still upset with you.”

his ears ring pretentiously as his limbs fall limp— not his dick though. never his dick when you’re around— his breathing ragged and skin blotched a bright shade of pink. with an adorable giggle, you give your ass a little shake, and his dick bounces with you, shooting weaker spurts of cum. what a view.

but shit. . . he’s gonna be here for a while, isn’t he?

as long as it’s with you, he doesn’t mind. he’s ready for round two whenever you are.

sum calm, sum slight 🙂‍↔️. enjoy these crumbs while i fight for my life

[classyrbf]

CLASSMATE GOJO SERIES!

SYNOPSIS...read the short 4 part series about classmate!gojo and pervy fem!reader all right here

INFO...classmate!gojo x fem!reader, smut smut smut, trading nudes, masturbation, p in v, name calling, and other filth, only a 4 part series

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

feel free to support me <3

series:

part 1

part 2

part 3

part 4

bonuses:

[gojoscinnamonroll]

sleepovers with your boyfriend satoru !!

the first time you had ever invited your boyfriend satoru gojo over for a sleepover, he felt like that was the best moment of his life. spending quality time with you and he doesn't have to leave you for the night right after?? hell yeah, that was a win for the giddy and clingy, fluffy white-haired man. once he received the "come spend the night with me 'toru, i can't sleep without you." text, he started squealing and bouncing on his toes like a teenage girl in love, throwing all the clothes and necessities he had into a bag and immediately racing over. since then, the sleepovers had turned into a every weekend thing for the both of you, never having one boring sleepover with your loving boy.

he never fails to show up at your door with your favorite snacks and junk food to munch on while the two of you watch trashy reality shows or emotional, cheesy, sappy movies. and in return, you always buy silly face masks (sometimes matching hello kitty or animal print) for the two of you to have on while watching.

of course, with ‘toru having a sweet tooth and you always needing a sweet little treat, you two always decide to bake something delicious around 12am. whether that be cookies, cinnamon rolls, kikufuku, cakes, etc with some jams playing in the background to listen to together (and satoru definitely getting distracted by the music that he starts dancing & ends up getting frosting or sugar or something all over himself with you having to clean him up.)

when you and your lover finally get into bed and settle down after stuffing your faces with sweets to cuddle with the lights off, he always has some random late night thought he always likes to converse about to keep you awake just a little longer.

"sweets, do you think aliens are real and will take over the world someday? or or or maybe, what if they think we're the aliens?" he ponders. " 'toru baby.. what the heck?? are you talking about???" you murmured sleepily but trying to hide your grin.

and when the night’s festivities end, when you fall asleep laying on satoru’s chest as he combs through your hair and admires all the features of your face as you sleep soundly with quiet snores coming from you, he lets out a soft giggle as he thinks about how he'd spend everyday and night for the rest of his life with you like this pulling you in closer and falling into a slumber as well.

likes + reblogs appreciated <3 please don't steal/copy/modify my works!

[nanamisbbygirl]

uv index

type: nsfw minors dni

includes: pervy best friend gojo + geto x afab!reader

summary: it was a big mistake to ask for help applying lotion at the beach, especially when you’re with geto suguru and gojo satoru.

cw: threesome, fingering, unprotected p in v, oral sex (m!reciving), cream pies, lots of fondling, public indecency and gooner behaviour lol

a/n: come get your dinner y’all i put my whole pussy into cooking it up.. enjoy!

the beach was perfect this time of year, especially with the way your skin felt as it soaked up the summer sun. you laid on your belly, as you shared the abnormally large towel with your friends, suguru and satoru.

suguru was sitting to your side, staring out at the ocean as satoru reemerged from the water, droplets dripping down his body. he met you both with a pout on his lips.

“are you guys coming in or what?” he was disappointed in the fake he seemed to be the only one enjoying the beach for what it was.

“soon,” you hummed, “let me tan a little longer.” you reached for your beach bag, pulling out some tanning lotion.

“you know that stuff isn’t good for you,” suguru grumbled.

“yeah neither is smoking” you remind him, causing him to scoff a little. although your next question appears to snap them out of their grumpy moods. “can one of you rub this on my back— i can’t reach it myself.”

both boys perked up, fighting over who would go first. suguru held the bottle in his hand, squirting the lotion along your back. they looked down at how suggestive it seemed to be, gulping, he reached forward to touch your skin.

his large hands caressed your back, massaging the tenderness of your flesh. you let out a relaxed sigh, as suguru’s hands made their way down your body.

you felt him stop at your mid back, teasing the hem of your cheeky bikini bottoms, wondering how far he should go. that’s when you felt a second pair of hands— satoru had joined in, apparently itching to have a turn.

he had lathered his hands with the tanning lotion, creeping his way up your legs, his fingers faintly lining your inner thighs.

suguru took initiative, lowering his grasp, making sure to coat every inch of you with the lotion. his fingers slipped under the thin straps that were holding your bathing suit in place, tempted to untie them.

before satoru got the chance to, his friend had claimed his spot hovering over your butt, palms pressing into your perky cheeks. his hands moved carefully in circular motions, being sure to pull at them, allowing him little peeks at your lips — you wanted to tan everywhere, right?

the black haired boy was drooling over you, once again leaving satoru to feel left out. although; he didn’t whine this time, instead leaning towards your ear while his free hand met the spot where your top tied together.

“you might want to take this off— wouldn’t want to get tan lines.” he whispered delicately, as though he wasn’t fulfilling his devious desires. you didn’t have the chance to protest as he undid your top in a blink of an eye. you hugged your breasts, hoping that nothing would slip out.

“we’re in public guys!” you squealed, as both their hands temporarily stopped. suguru and satoru looked around them.

“no one’s around, don’t worry and don’t fuss.” suguru declared, but it still put you on edge. it was hard to think straight with the stimulation they were providing you with.

satoru begins to reach for your breast, hoping that you’ll easily comply with him.

“cmon don’t you want your front side to tan a little, too?” just like that he was able to flip you effortlessly, leaving you to cling to your now ill fitted top.

you get a look at both of them, how they’re glowing in the sunlight, their swim trunks becoming extra tight. you can trace the outlines of their dicks with your eyes, holding your breath at the situation you managed to get yourself into. they both stare back at you, an animalistic urge in their eyes.

suguru splashes the lotion against your stomach then placing some into satoru’s greedy hands. it’s almost too much to take in all at once, you feel yourself wiggling around trying to pick who to focus your attention on first.

satoru rubs his hands together, making the most of the lotion suguru provided him with.

“move your arms, peach.” he laughs with the pet name. he nudges your arms and judging by the look on his face he wasn’t gonna let anything stop him from having his way.

so, you complied with satoru’s demand. you removed your arms, placing them to the side of your head, causing the bikini top to begin to slide up, revealing more of your tits. this made satoru grin.

while all this was happening, suguru was still working away, making sure every part of your body was oiled up, reflecting the sun. his hands carved out your body as if he was a sculpter, rubbing his thumbs against your hips before pressing down on your lower stomach. he continued down, outlining your cunt, carelessly running his hands under your bottoms and groping your soft butt.

he pulled you into him, forcing you to straddle his waist as he rests you on his thighs. you can feel his bulge against your pussy, it’s driving you crazy how close you are but how distant your pleasure seems to be.

you can no longer pay attention to suguru, as you feel your nipples being gently rolled around in satoru’s fingers. he gives them cheeky little pinches before kneading your breast, squishing them with his huge hands.

“fuck you’re so hot,” suguru mutters, grinding up and drown, chasing the friction between the two of you. you whimper as satoru fondles your breasts, flashing his friend a mischievous look.

“she seems pretty desperate doesn’t she?” satoru asks suguru. “as if this wasn’t her plan the whole time. do you think we should give her the attention she wants?” he says this without missing a motion, taking as much of your boobs into his hands as possible. you can tell by the way he licks his lips he wants to put them in his mouth, but he’s holding back, as if to get suguru’s opinion on the matter.

“depends,” he huffs, holding onto your hips, “how bad does she want it?” they talk about you like you’re not even there, as though you’re not already in such a vulnerable state for them.

“whaddya think, peach? what should we do?” satoru looks down as you, holding your left breast tightly as he anticipates your response.

“i.. i want more,” you say, but it’s not the response he’s looking for as he pinches your nipple.

“gotta try harder than that: be specific.”

you take a shaky breath, looking back at suguru to see if there’s any sympathy and maybe he would be kinder without having you embarrass yourself more in front of your friends.

“you heard what he said, peach, tell us what you want.”

throwing your head back, you gulp: “please fuck me.” you start, “use me however you want.” you say it quietly the first time, which again, was not to their liking.

suguru leaned forwards, slapping your one breast, “say it loud and clear, or else you get nothing.” his stern tone make a chill roll down your hot back.

“i want you to use me,” you say, choking back a whimper, “to fuck me— both of you. please?” your lip quivered, making satoru let out a deep chuckle.

“well how can we say no? considering you asked so nicely.”

with that, suguru pushed your bottoms to the side, starting out with a single finger. he started at your hole, making his way up to your clit and then back down again.

“shit satoru, she’s so fucking wet.” he circles your open, making you twitch. he sinks the first finger into you, feeling just how your cunt clung to him, gushing all over his wrist.

“greedy girl,” he mumbled under his breath, adding a second finger. his hand flicked up, pumping in and out while satoru finally locked his lips against your breasts.

pecking them with kisses, his groans vibrated onto your skin, as he licked his way towards your nipple.

“feels so good,” you moan, feeling how your walls pulse around suguru. it was pure bliss, basking in the pleasure that was crashing over you like a wave.

“m close” you informed them as that familiar knot began forming in your stomach. just as you prepared for the best, suguru’s rhythm stopped.

“not yet, you haven’t even felt my cock yet.” you let out an embarrasing whine. suguru takes one of the fingers that was just inside you and glides his tongue across it, humming about how good you taste. “try it satoru.”

the white haired boy listened, detaching his hungry lips from your nipples and reattached them to suguru’s finger.

“mm—you’re right, so sweet!” he began a palming at his swim shorts, tired of the built up tension. suguru feels the same, and you hold your breath as they reveal what they’d been hiding all along.

both of them having their bathing suits pulled down just enough to expose their dripping cocks. both of them are long, although suguru’s seems to be a little bit thicker. their tips are flushing, sticky with precum, anticipating just how roughly they’re gonna use you.

suguru flips you on your stomach again, and you’re face to watch with satoru’s cock. his angry head stares down at you, making your mouth water with the way he strokes it.

from behind you, suguru drags his dick against your pussy, rubbing a circle into you swollen clit.

“please fuck me su, please” you beg, and they both laugh at how needy you’ve become for your friends.

“looks like she’s already learning how to be a good slut,” suguru exclaims, lining himself up with your tight cunt.

he slams his hips into you, grabbing your waist and driving you deeper and deeper on his cock. your eyes feel like they’re rolling behind your head, and your mouth falls open only for it to be filled by satoru.

he starts with his thumb, like he’s checking just how wet your mouth is. you swirl his digit on your tongue, fluttering your eyes open in order to look up at him. he can sense your hungry eyes and only juts his hips forward, giving you unfiltered access to his dick.

kissing his tip, you hear how much he’s enjoying it. saying your name softly under his breath, like he’s ready to crumble already. you stroke his cock carefully until he orders you to open wide, and you follow directions to a tee.

he paused for a moment, watching his friends steady pace, trying to match it. while suguru has pulled back a bit from your sloppy pussy, satoru fills your mouth. his dick as a slight upturn, hitting against the top of your throat.

both litter the air with their curses, praising how sexy you were, a cheeky little peach, a slut just for them. their thrusts soon become synchronized and while satoru is pushing your head closer to the base of his shaft, suguru reaches around you, stimulating your clit.

“her pussy’s so tight right now,” suguru tells his counterpart.

“trying to make me jealous?” satoru grunts.

“maybe,” suguru snickers.

they both intensify the speed at which they fuck you. geto slaps your ass as if bounces, swallowing his cock with every backwards motion. being in the position that he’s in, he can feel how you’re tensing up, your insides are tingling— you’re close. he can feel his own release building up, but he can’t finish before the two of you.

“are you gonna cum around my cock?” he asks, placing kisses along your back.

satoru groans; still not wanting to be left out of all the fun. he continues from where suguru left off: “are you gonna cum with my dick in your mouth?” he lets out a breath, “are you ready to have two holes filled with cum at the same time? wouldn’t that be fun?”

at that moment your toes curl, your back arching, tearing rolling down your face. as you unravel, the boys follow behind you. when they ask you about it later, you can’t remember who finished first, as every thought in your mind had vanished, all you could think of was how stuffed you felt.

cum gushed from your pussy and your mouth, swallowing as much of it as you possibly could.

satoru’s hand pet the back of your head, watching in delight as he cleaned up the last drop from the corner of your lips.

suguru let his cock rest inside you for an extra moment, groaning as you removed himself, eyeing the trail of semen that was slipping down towards your slit. he brought your swim bottoms back to their original positions, giving your cunt a pretty little tap.

“maybe we should come to the beach more often.” suguru laughs, seeing how you lay against the towel, surrendering yourself to them.

a/n: don’t forget to like and reblog if you liked it!

[rissouu]

no contact with gojo never really meant no contact. he’d still be at your apartment, waiting for you in his favorite bean bag that you’d bought just for him. you were sure you took his key away during the very first break up. how the hell did he keep getting in?

“satoru..?” you shook your head as soon as you walked in the door. of course he’s here, you should’ve known. if only you’d stayed at shoko’s for the night like you were planning to. the white-haired bastard sat in his usual spot, eyes shut, legs spread, and head leaned back on a pillow. almost as if he was sleeping and you were interrupting him, like he wasn’t the one breaking and entering.

the man perked up from his seat at the sound of your voice, finally you were back. he was waiting here for hours, it even crossed his mind to go track you down. he let out a low chuckle that eventually turned into a fit of laughter.

“you’ve got some nerve y’know?” he took one glance at you before licking his lips and running his hands through his hair. you were driving him crazy, dressed in that tiny little dress that barely covered anything. who knows how many creeps were staring at you while he wasn’t there, staring at what’s his.

“why’re you coming home this late (y/n)?” you scrunched your face at his question, resisting the urge to laugh in his face. no way he was really asking you this?

you shrugged your shoulders while throwing your purse on a random coat rack. “we’re not together anymore.. it doesn’t concern you,”

there he goes again. the burst of laughter, and random claps that went along with it. he made you feel like every word that came out of your mouth was a joke and you hated it. one of the very reasons you both weren’t together now.

he tapped his lap, signaling he wanted you there and now. the look on his face had an edge to it— showing he was clearly done playing games, though that still didn’t make you move an inch.

“nuh uh,” he kissed his teeth when you crossed your arms. “none of that shit. c’mere mama, don’t make me say it again okay?”

you didn’t know why, you didn’t even have time to register it but your body was moving on it’s own. it must’ve recognized the tone of his voice, and you didn’t realize what was happening until it was too late.

rough hands gripped your waist and pushed you down until your chest was hitting his. the two of you sat in silence as you nuzzled your head into his neck, the ink behind his ear catching your attention.

he had your name branded on his skin in a gorgeous red, big enough for all eyes to see. and you had his.. right on the lower part of your back, sitting pretty between your back dermals.

a hand wrapped around your neck and forced you to meet his icy glare. gojo smiled that beautiful smile before leaning to your ear, “ill kill anyone that tries to take you from me. y’know that, yeah?”

you knew better than to ignore him, causing you to give him a small nod. the hand on your neck shifted to your waist, then down to your ass where he ripped that fucking dress straight down the middle.

his thumb ran across the healed ink on your skin, a sense of pride filling him. “never forget what this means (y/n). you’re mine ‘til we both die, it’s too late to back out now.” he trailed off, tracing his name over all parts of your body.

“and get rid of these fuckin’ dresses too. only want you wearin’ them for me.” a chuckle fell from his lips, but you knew he wasn’t joking and you couldn’t help but to laugh along with him.

yeah.. maybe you were just as bad at no contact as him.

©rissouu 2024 (idk im jus in my toxic gojo era rn)..

[pupkashi]

satoru is the kind of boyfriend that you are constantly falling in with over and over again

he takes out a spider that you found in the hallway, promising he’ll let it into the backyard and won’t kill it. he’ll tease you relentlessly for running to the other side of the house while on the phone with him, begging him to come home to take care of the ‘grave danger’ you were in. satoru never once tells you how his heart flutters knowing your instinct is to cal him for help.

satoru is the kind of lover to pick flowers for you when you walk hand in hand, giggling as a spring breeze hits the two of you. he smiles, bending down and picking the daisy from the ground.

“look! i got you a flower” he grins, handing the small flower to you with a smile on his face.

“oh wow this just for me? you broke the bank with this one” he can’t help but laugh loudly, “I’m in deep credit card debt,” he replies, “think you can cover dinner for tonight?” you laugh, nodding your head- knowing he’d never let you pay for anything as long as he was around.

the kind of boyfriend to run late, but pick up flowers on the way to make it up to you, buying extravagant bouquets on a whim and making sure every vase in your home is filled with flowers at any given moment. there comes a point in the relationship where you have to sit him down and ask him softly to cut down the flower buying to once a week, as you’d run out of vases to put the flowers in.

satoru ends up buying you more vases, but realizes it’s gotten out of hand when you have no free surfaces in your home due to the overflowing amount of flora. he cuts it down to once a week after he found a bee in the house one day.

your lover brings back souvenirs from all the places he goes when on missions, trinkets that he knew you’d love spilling out of his pockets as he walks into your shared home.

“i think you’d love this little bunny figure so i got it!” he’s beaming at you, his face lights up even more when he sees how excited you are, gushing over the small figure and thanking him with a plethora of kisses.

satoru is the kind of boyfriend to tell you ‘told you so’ when you get cold because you didn’t bring a jacket, all while simultaneously taking his off and giving it to you. he tries his best to hide how much colder he is to try and make sure you stay warm, but his shivering six foot something body is hard to miss.

“satoru i think you’re colder than i was, please just take it back” you beg, shoving his jacket back into his hands, he just shakes his head, teeth slightly chattering as he lies to your face.

“im not even cold, you need to stay warm” he’s steadfast and stubborn on his stance, only taking his jacket back when you two enter a cafe and make it a point to say how hot you felt when you stepped inside.

satoru is the kind of boyfriend to hang mistletoes all over the house, giggling when he pulls you in by your waist and places a giddy kiss on your lips.

“man i love christmas” he sighs, pointing at the fourth mistletoe in the last hour as you two decorated for the holidays.

“seriously how many of these did you buy?” you laugh, pulling him closer to you and placing your lips on his. satoru smiles into the kiss, chasing after your lips even when you pull away and managing to steal one last kiss.

“mmm, alot” he whispers, snowy hair tickling your face as he presses a kiss to your cheek before continuing on with the tree lights.

satoru gojo is the kind of boyfriend to kiss you from 11:59 pm on New Year’s Eve to 12:01 am on New Year’s Day, just to say he made out with you into another year. he also does it just to make sure you can’t say you haven’t kiss him since last year.

“you’ve been kissing me since last year sweetheart just admit you’re crazy about me” he teases you, his cheeks and ears flush from the two cups of champagne he’s had.

“angel boy you have no idea” you giggle, taking in how beautiful he looks as the fireworks pop around the two of you, making his crystalline eyes shine a little brighter.

satoru gojo is the kind of boyfriend that makes you believe in soulmates, because there was no other way to describe what he was to you other than that.

satoru gojo was your soulmate, and you were his.

a/n: hi hi ! just wanted to write something short and sweet to get me back into the flow of writing <3 hopefully this help kill my writers block :3

masterlist

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[freaktoru]

✰ cw; stepcest, oral m!receiving, dubcon, gojo is mean

no matter how much you try to deny it, your step brother, gojo satoru knows how much you love to suck his cock. sure, it's filthy and wrong to be this cock drunk over your step brother, but you just can't help yourself. he fucks you so good.

"shit hah—suck it harder" gojo groans, a slender hand tangled in your hair, pushing you down further on his cock. you're a choked-up drooling mess—crying and gagging on your step brother's cock. he’s so fucking mean with it too—always forcing you down deeper, barely giving you a second to even gasp for air.

you've already swallowed his cum three times now—your jaw fucking hurts and the carpet beneath you has left the skin on your knees burning and raw. you are a fucking mess, but the fucker loves it—god he loves it so much. he just can’t control himself when your wet lips are wrapped so tightly around his cock, sucking the literal soul out of him.

he does this every damn night. he strolls into your room late at night, his mere presence already fucking irritating—then has the audacity to mock you for how eagerly you take his cock.

"get the fuck out of my room" you spit at him, trying to enjoy one evening to yourself without him fucking pestering you.

"awww c'mon princess, you don't wanna hang out with your step brother? i know you love meee" he taunts, dragging out his words as he drapes a long arm around your shoulders, peeking over at your laptop.

"go fuck yourself" you bite out, roughly pushing his arm off of you.

"why do that when i have you?" he sneers, closing your laptop with two fingers. annoyed, you push back from your desk, getting out of your chair and walking towards your door. "i told you to get. the. fuck. out." you point to the door, angrily tapping your foot on the ground as you impatiently wait for him to leave.

he only chuckles, leaning back against your desk, turning around to face you— lightly patting his thigh with one hand before saying “come here”.

your face twists in disgust at his cocky attitude. you already know what he's here for—what he wants. forcing your feet to move, you walk up to him, arms crossed over your chest. you have to tilt your head back just to meet his gaze—he’s so absurdly tall it’s revolting.

"will you leave me the fuck alone?" you ask, impatient to get this over with. "yeah yeah" he replies lazily, pushing you down to your knees with one hand.

so yeah. that's how you find yourself choking on gojo's cock for a third time in a row. gojo never loses. no matter how much you act up or cuss him out, somehow you still end up here, every night— mascara running down your soft cheeks, being fucked absolutely brainless by your step brother. you just couldn't deny the fact that some dark, depraved part of you craved it.

he pulled out for just a few seconds, giving you mere moments to catch your breath before slamming his lengthy, leaking cock back down your poor throat. "mmhn—ngh" was all you managed to pathetically utter.

"what was that? couldn't hear you" he mocks, tightening his strong hold on your hair, only increasing the dull ache in your scalp. you know why he did this. you were nothing but a little whore and a fucking liar—you pissed him off so much, all he wanted to do was shut you up.