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[grade1sorcerer]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ how long does it take to fuck your brother's best friend? (four whole days)

synopsis. suguru comes home to visit from college at the same time you do—except he brings satoru along. this is going to be a long break

word count. 8.5k (i am tired of this tomfoolery)

contents. college! au, brother's best friend! satoru, fem! reader, minors do not interact, three-year age gap (you're both early twenties), slightly mean satoru (when you’re kids), slight enemies to lovers, jealous! satoru, mentions of reader having an ex-bf, male masturbation, satoru is taller + carries reader, cunnilingus, fingering, handjobs, unprotected sex, brief mentions of alcohol (satoru), creampie, pet names (baby + sweetheart), not proofread i could not be bothered i’m sorry

notes. this was not supposed to be this long bye i am embarrassingly down bad for the blue-eyed freak

everyone knows that where there is satoru, there is suguru—and likewise, where there is suguru, there is satoru.

they’re a bit of a packaged deal, really. satoru befriends your brother in what you think must be some twisted stroke of luck—there is no way suguru would lower his standards for some rich bastard who’s had life made for him since the day he was born. but apparently, he does, and you’re stuck with a white-haired nuisance in your house at least once a week. for years.

you’ve known satoru since he was a whiny, snot-faced, and spoiled little brat. back then, he used to call you toothless—you were six, it’s normal for children at the age of six to lose a few teeth. just because satoru is nine and has grown his teeth back doesn’t mean he escaped the toothless phase himself—but satoru is just a jerk like that, pushes your buttons, and calls out your insecurities to get a good laugh.

you don’t smile with your mouth open even once around him that summer, not until suguru assures you that regardless of how many teeth you have, you have a lovely smile.

when you’re twelve, puberty does its thing, and now you’re stuck with acne-prone skin—also a normal occurrence for people your age, but satoru makes sure to point out the giant pimple on your forehead every time he sees you. you make sure to let him know his haircut is as awful as his sense of style, and suguru tries his best not to choke himself with his charger as you both bicker.

satoru is gone that entire summer for a family cruise that you’re sure costs double your house—he comes back frighteningly taller than you remember him within the span of just a few weeks.

it’s been like that since you were kids. he comes over, finds a new thing to pick on through his smug grins and smooth chuckles, and you fume as you bite back with just as snarky rebuttals. he makes sure to never cross the line of going too far—it’s more for suguru’s sake, you’re fairly sure—but stays right on the dot of getting just under your skin.

he’s annoying. a jerk. a rich snob. a privileged dickhead. he’s rude and disrespectful, with no tact, let alone any semblance of respect. you don’t understand what could possibly make suguru want to hang around such a douchebag, but suguru cares about satoru—and satoru has always been there for your brother.

you don’t understand it, but you respect it. as long as he doesn’t wet your entire bathroom sink and mirror in the mornings after he stays over, you suppose you can coexist.

but you haven’t seen him in ages—not outside of suguru’s instagram stories and posts. it’s been a long few years since the two of them have left for college, and by the time you leave too, life has its funny way of working, and, well…you don’t bump into him anymore. it doesn’t occur to you that satoru is not the same guy you used to know until you come back home to visit after your second year of college.

“suguru,” you call, “i borrowed your hoodie. but you can have it back—”

you cut yourself off when you open the door to your brother’s room, and lo and behold, stands a very shirtless gojo satoru, the white-haired and blue-eyed asshole you’ve had to deal with since childhood. except he’s way taller than you remember him—just how much does this guy grow, exactly? his shoulders are broader and….and since when did he have abs? there’s a small tattoo just under his collarbone—when did he even get that? his hair is also longer, just enough to fall over his forehead and curtain those striking blue eyes of his.

he looks…well, handsome. very handsome, in fact. dangerously handsome that it catches you by surprise as you blink.

he’s still shirtless, holding his t-shirt in his hands as he grins.

“hey, toothless,” he greets, voice deeper than the last time you heard it—but it still sounds relatively the same. you think you’d always recognize satoru’s voice, whether you’d like to or not. and, of course, he just has to still use that ridiculous nickname after all these years. “long time no see.”

“i have all my teeth now—i have for a long time, y’know. and put a shirt on, you freak,” you huff, rolling your eyes, “where’s suguru?”

“what, you don’t enjoy the view?” he motions at his bare torso, like the shameless bastard he is, “most girls love this view—”

“and yet, you’re still single,” you cut him off, staring at him pointedly.

he grins impossibly wider, tugging his shirt over his body swiftly—you have to exercise all ounces of control not to gulp as you watch his biceps flex.

“keepin’ track of my love life?” he wiggles his brows, “i know older men can be appealing but have a little class. your poor brother would lose his shit if you went after his best friend—”

“satoru,” you sigh, pinching your nose, “do you age backward or something? how are you still this obnoxious after so long?”

“i practice in the mirror,” he winks, “it’s my charm.”

“that’s hardly charming,” you roll your eyes, “anyway, whenever suguru comes back, let him know i left his hoodie, yeah?”

“sure,” he chuckles.

and then you close the door as you leave—right before you stop, pause, and open it up again as you’re sticking your head back in when you make a shocking realization.

“wait, how long are you here for?” you ask, eyes wide.

he has the audacity to look smug as he taps his chin and pretends to think—“oh, y’know. just the rest of break. my old man took my mom on some trip, so i’m killing time here,” he shrugs.

great. lovely. wonderful. just what you needed.

you wish he’d drop dead—maybe suguru will finally be forced to go outside of his one-man circle and actually befriend some respectable people.

“you can’t just stay at your place?” you hiss, “it’s certainly big enough.”

“well, why be lonely in an empty home when we can have fun here?” he hums, “consider yourself lucky—you get to be housemates with me for a—”

“keep to yourself,” you warn, cutting him off again through narrowed eyes and a dangerous glare—satoru only looks more amused, raising his hands up in surrender.

with that, you turn again and almost shut the door when he calls for you—“hey, toothless,” he says lowly, making you pause before turning to him with a raised brow. he smiles—it’s so unlike that usual smirk of his…somehow this one is a bit gentler as he murmurs, “you look good. grew up well, y’know.”

you blink. you’re not ready for that…didn’t expect a compliment from gojo satoru himself—especially not after all this time of throwing mediocre insults your way.

you decide he must be messing with you, so you purse your lips as you click your teeth in irritation. “yeah, sure,” you say dryly.

you can hear his chuckles as you close the door again—this is going to be a long break.

—————

just as expected, the house is simply not big enough for you and satoru.

the first time you run into him happens to be first thing after waking up—you’re walking up to the door just as he twists the knob and opens it, walking out shirtless. again.

this time, however, he’s got beads of water rolling down his skin from his shower, right between his pecs, as a towel hangs around his shoulders. you can see his tattoo from up close now, a small infinity sign right under his collarbone that contrasts against his pale skin.

how tacky, you think—just as you’d expect, even his choice of tattoos is questionable.

his hair is wet—it’s sticking to his forehead instead of the multiple directions it usually scatters around in that messy way it always does. you’ve only felt satoru’s hair once—when you were fifteen, and you’d hit him in the back of the head as you walked past him at the breakfast table. he’d made a jab at your dark circles. tests were around the corner, and unlike satoru, your grades actually mattered. you didn’t expect his hair to be so soft, but it is, and you almost itch to twirl the strands around your fingers for a quick feel.

instead, you scowl and stomp off to your room as soon as your dishes are washed.

his hair is probably just as soft now—maybe even softer now that he actually probably cares to look after it. you’ve heard suguru grumble about using two-in-one shampoo too many times when he comes back from spending the night at satoru’s. for a second, your fingers twitch to reach up and brush through a few strands on his forehead—just to feel them because they look soft. nothing else.

the urge is quickly killed as soon as he opens his mouth, however.

“oh, hey there, roomie,” he grins, “you’re really doing all you can to catch me half naked, huh?”

“don’t flatter yourself,” you grumble.

“i’m just sayin’,” he chuckles, “that’s twice now. if you ask nicely, i might walk around like this just for you.”

it’s way too early for this.

by early, it’s actually late noon. now that finals aren’t killing your free time, you stay up until ungodly hours to catch up with your social life—and it doesn’t help that you can hear satoru and suguru stay up playing video games the next room over, either. suguru is probably still sleeping.

that’s a bit of a shocker, in fact—usually, it’s satoru that has to be dragged out of your brother’s room to have breakfast (or brunch, really) before the kitchen is cleared up. why satoru is up first is beyond you.

maybe it’s just a cruel way for the universe to enjoy watching more of your veins pop.

“does that apply to asking you to leave? because then i suppose i can ask rather politely.”

he grins, eyes sparkling with amusement as he shoots you that smile with those pearly whites that irritate you to no end. you’re not sure why, but something about his smile looks so much different nowadays—something about it just seems so….mature.

that’s a word you didn’t think you’d ever use to describe satoru.

“mm, not quite,” he hums, “you’re still stuck with me.”

“whatever,” you mutter, rolling your eyes. “move, i want to shower before suguru wakes up.”

“you have time,” he steps to the side, letting you enter the bathroom, “he’s probably not waking up anytime soon—woah.”

satoru’s shirt is on the floor—why, you may ask? because he’s an annoying idiot who doesn’t have to clean up after himself when people have always been around to do it for him. he never has to care to aim and toss his clothes into the hamper because the maids will pick up after him anyway. old habits die hard, you suppose—you’ve listened to suguru complain about satoru’s messiness not improving even after being his roommate for the last few years. it’s never been your problem, but you don’t appreciate it now that you’re slipping over the fabric on the tiled floor, falling backwards with a squeal.

but satoru’s quick—he catches you with those strong arms of his and wraps them tightly around you, keeping you securely in place as he steadies you against his chest.

his bare chest, in fact.

you can feel the slight dampness seeping into your shirt, and you can feel his hot breath on your neck as he exhales in relief once he makes sure you’re safe. you almost shiver—almost, but you manage to scrape together enough self-control to stay painfully still in his grasp.

“you okay?” he murmurs gently, voice a low whisper against your skin. there’s no bite to his words. no amusement or teasing or even smugness. it’s genuine, the way he checks on you.

this is…new. very, very new.

“yeah,” you breathe, letting out a sharp breath. and then—“maybe keep your clothes in the fucking hamper next time, though.”

“sorry,” the smile in his voice is almost audible—you can’t see it from where you are, but you can hear it in his voice. you roll your eyes, and satoru makes no move to loosen his arms around you. for some reason, you don’t move.

you’re not sure why, but you just don’t.

“you’re still just as messy, huh?” you roll your eyes—he laughs, and it’s a smooth, boyish chuckle that almost makes you wonder for a moment if this is why girls seem to love satoru so much despite his god-awful personality.

it’s a pretty beautiful sound—you hate that you have to admit that to yourself.

“yeah,” he admits, “it drives suguru nuts.”

“yeah, i can’t imagine why,” you snort. it’s like that for a moment—satoru’s muscled arms around you and hard chest pressed against your back. finally, you clear your throat. “you can let go now, you know.”

“right,” he mumbles, slowly pulling away—and when you turn to face him….is that disappointment? on his face? you don’t get a chance to be sure because then he’s bending down to pick up his shirt before he’s standing—he’s already wiped the expression from his features completely by then. “sorry about that, toothless. i’ll keep my shirts off the floor next time.”

“that would be so kind of you,” you smile sarcastically.

and then you shut the door in his face and exhale as you lean against the wall.

this is going to be a longer break than you thought.

—————

the next time you run into him, it’s late at night. everyone is asleep—even your brother and his headache of a best friend, if the silence tells you anything. you can’t sleep, though, so you make your way to the kitchen to hunt for snacks. you’re skimming through the pantry before your eyes land on a surprise—a box of strawberry pocky sits nice and enticingly, right there for you to open and devour.

you grin, reaching over when—

“those are mine,” satoru calls, stepping into the kitchen, “brought them over myself. you should ask before touching people’s things.”

“you literally ate my leftovers the other night,” you say incredulously.

“those were yours? i thought they were suguru’s.” he raises a brow in surprise, making you click your teeth in irritation.

“the principle of asking still applies,” you purse your lips. and then defiantly, you open the box and grab a pack right before his eyes.

he scowls—but you know he doesn’t actually mind because he waits for you to finish grabbing yours before taking the box and grabbing his own pack and a coke from the fridge. you both take a seat at the kitchen table, across from each other, as you open the packaging and silently eat your newfound snack.

it’s satoru who breaks the silence first.

“do you still throw away the ends of these?”

you huff indignantly, not meeting his eyes as you take a bite off the strawberry-covered end, stopping at just where the cookie portion is uncoated. “yes. i’m eating these for the coating—not the bland biscuit part.”

“what’re you, five?” he snickers, earning a glare from you. defiantly, you pop the end of the pocky stick into your mouth just to prove a point—and then the look of distaste makes him cackle louder. 

“shut up,” you hiss, “you talk too much.”

“the ladies love it when i do,” he bats his lashes—you stare at him blankly, unimpressed.

“yeah, as if.”

“hey, my ex-girlfriend totally did,” he defends.

ex-girlfriend? that’s a bit of a shocker—you didn’t know satoru dated anyone in the last few years, you haven’t seen or heard anything of it through suguru’s end. in all realness, you didn’t even think satoru was the boyfriend type…but then again, he’s not really the anything type. he just kind of exists to take up space and be the bane of your existence. 

“i hope the poor girl is recovering well after dating you,” you shake your head, feigning a concerned look on your face that makes him roll his eyes—they’re still disturbingly bright even in the dark kitchen, dimly lit by the slightest bit of moonlight pouring in through the small window.

“i dated her freshman and sophomore year,” he says casually. you also didn’t expect that—that it lasted that long. something about satoru doesn’t strike you as the long-term relationship kind of guy. something about him doesn’t seem like the relationship kind of guy at all. not because he’s the type to mess around casually, but because he seems the type to seem disinterested all around—he’s snobby like that. “she was…alright, i guess.”

yeah. very snobby.

“you are such a sick bastard,” you spit.

he snorts, taking a bite of his pocky as he shakes his head in amusement. you’re as feisty as ever—it’s always fun riling you up, even if unintentionally.

“hey, it’s not like she was bad. she was just…well, she wasn’t interested in me like that either,” he shrugs, “i think it was just the sex. it was good, can’t lie there.”

“you’re so gross,” you roll your eyes, “have some decorum.”

“what, you’re still sixteen?” he raises a brow, lips curling into a smirk as he reaches for another pocky, “can’t say the word s-e-x?”

“i don’t broadcast my sexual activities out in the open,” you shrug.

satoru chuckles, taking a bite that more or less finishes the entire stick in one go before he presses a finger to his lips, “shh. don’t say that too loud—suguru will come chase you from his room if he hears.”

“suguru,” you groan, “he’s such a pain to have around sometimes. y’know i dated this one guy last year. i think suguru might’ve paid him to dump me.”

“i know. he definitely thought about it,” satoru hums, “he used to go off about it all the time. he was right, though—that guy was a total prick.”

something about you is mildly shocked that satoru knows about your private life—sure, it’s not outrageous or even the slightest bit unlikely that suguru mentions you. satoru and suguru are best friends, and you happen to be suguru’s sister—of course, suguru is bound to mention you here and there. it’s just the fact that satoru even pays attention to anything to do with you that surprises you—although you suppose it would be a good way for him to find his next source to push your buttons.

“i’m not surprised you think he’s a prick,” you nod, “it takes one to know one, after all.”

“oh yeah?” he snorts, waving you off, “i do, in fact remember anniversaries, y’know.”

“okay,” you sigh, defeated—your ex-boyfriend is admittedly not at the top of the list of your brightest choices. not even up halfway on the list. in fact, he’s so low on the list of good choices you’ve made, that willingly choosing to interact with satoru feels like an exceptional decision in comparison. and that’s saying something. “he was pretty bad. but he was really hot. when a guy looks like that, his values are the least of my worries.”

it’s a joke—you’re sure he knows that. but satoru takes a long sip from his coke, silent for a moment. you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so serious, especially so suddenly.

“he can’t be that hot,” he mutters.

“oh he was really hot. probably the hottest guy i’ve ever talked to—” satoru bites his pocky a bit aggressively at that, “and he was so tall. maybe taller than you—how tall are you again? anyway, he was pretty enough to overlook his shortcomings.”

“he’s probably not taller than me,” he grumbles, frowning. you snort—men and their fragile little egos, you think in amusement.

“he was,” you tease, “he was so tall, i’d let him do whatever he wanted.”

“that’s a terrible way to look at it,” he scrunches his brows, “you shouldn’t let some guy walk all over you because he’s tall and his face is a bit easy on the eyes—”

“i know you’re not talking—”

“i’m serious,” he cuts you off. something about him reminds you of suguru for a moment—like he cares who you’re with because he has a reason to. as if you mean something to him, as if knowing someone who doesn’t deserve you has you in their palms is upsetting.

but then you shake the thought out of your head—satoru doesn’t care. he’s never had a reason to, and you don’t exactly plan to give him one, either.

“okay, dad,” you roll your eyes, “i learned my lesson. i have standards now.”

“good,” he nods—and then, as if to keep himself in character, he adds, “because i don’t want to help suguru kill someone, and it’s over something lame like forgetting his little sister’s anniversary. i’d like to go to jail for something more badass.”

“you and badass don’t belong in the same sentence,” you raise a brow. “let’s be realistic.”

“oh yeah? that’s rich coming from—”

“guys, it is five in the morning,” suguru grumbles, throwing a water bottle at satoru’s head. you glance at the kitchen entrance, eyeing a half-asleep and very irritable suguru as he crosses his arms, “can’t you idiots fight over who’s more of a loser at reasonable hours? some of us like to sleep.”

“want one?” you offer your pack of pocky, holding it out to him.

suguru blinks, contemplating for a second before sighing and trudging over.

“yeah,” he mutters, flicking your forehead. “gimme that.”

you watch woefully as suguru takes the entirety of your pack, swiftly sitting next to satoru and leaving you empty-handed. satoru snickers obnoxiously at the deflated look on your face—and then he holds out his pack to you.

you look between him and the pack for a moment before giving him a genuine smile. it’s a rare sight—he drinks it in as you carefully take one and bicker over something with suguru.

you’re pretty when you smile, he thinks—pretty enough that if you had horrible values (which you don’t), he might feel inclined to understand your (awful) reasoning for a moment.

and then he blinks and shakes the thoughts out of his head—it’s going to be a long break.

—————

satoru meets you when you’re six. 

he’s nine at the time, and he feels on top of the world knowing he’s three whole years older than you—in hindsight, three years is not a very large gap, but to nine-year-old him, it feels like centuries. he’s remembered you as the fun little drama queen that’s too easy to poke fun at for years—that’s all you’ve always been: suguru’s younger sister who puffs her cheeks out and scowls way too often to be normal, the girl that’s way too easy to tease than should be standard. 

somehow, he wasn’t expecting for you to come back so grown…and so hot. suddenly, it really hits him that you’re not a kid—have not really been for a long time now. he’s always treated you like you’re way younger than he is, way too little to be in his presence and be worthy of it—but you’ve really become a fine young woman.

a magnetizing one, in fact.

it’s now his third night at your house—your parents are as lovely and welcoming as ever, and suguru is always a good time to be around. but somehow, satoru is not satisfied. not anywhere near sated by the few, minimal moments of contact with you. 

when did you get so pretty? although, as much as satoru has always liked to poke fun at you, you’ve never been ugly. not even a little—but you’ve grown into your features better, outgrown the awkward teenage era of your life, and now present yourself with a newfound confidence that just looks…so good. satoru doesn’t see his best friend's kid sister anymore—no, there’s something so alluring about you now.

the nail on the coffin that solidifies he’s officially screwed is when you mention your ex-boyfriend—why would your dating life make him this irrationally angry? why is the thought of someone being on the receiving end of your praise (and shameless heart-eyes) so aggravating for him? 

he doesn’t know—but what he does know is that the raging boner has been killing him all morning ever since he woke up from…well, less than proper dreams about you.

so now he’s here, forehead pressed against your shower wall as the hot water hits his back, swollen cock in his fist as he thumbs at the tip, teasing the slit just the way he likes. he thinks about you—how he’d show you what makes him feel good, how you’d probably learn fast and take care of him just the way he needs. 

your hand would look so much daintier compared to his—smaller, but he’s sure it would still feel infinitely better. 

he bites his lip, fighting back a moan as he strokes himself slowly, pre cum smeared along the length of his hard, aching cock—red and angry at the tip, leaking with more pre cum no matter how many times his thumb collects every drop. 

“f-fuck—” he breathes, and his voice lets out a shaky, breathy little call of your name—he’s screwed if anyone hears it. he’s sure you and suguru will both band together to kill him, but thankfully, the words are lost in the sound of the shower running. “fuck baby,” he says hoarsely, voice cracking ever so slightly as he whines. 

it’s soft and quiet, the noises he makes—careful and deliberately hushed to make sure no one hears the improper way he’s thinking of you right now. but fuck, your tits are so pretty when you walk out of your room in a t-shirt in the mornings—he can just tell you’re not wearing a bra. he can’t stop thinking about it, can’t stop trying to picture what they’d look like uncovered and bouncing.

“jus’ like that, baby,” he pants, whimpering softly as he squeezes around his tip, teasing himself with that slow, painful pace of his. 

satoru is sure that if it were you, that if the hand stroking his cock right now was yours, you would never let him cum so easily—you’d drag it out just like this, pump him slowly and twist your hand around him in a pace that’s painfully not enough before ever thinking about letting him come undone. 

it’s just the way that you are—never ready to back down from a challenge, unwilling to go down without a fight. but he loves it, he thinks—lives for the way you keep him on his toes and work for the satisfaction. 

“more,” he gasps, “n-need more—gimme more, sweetheart.”

he imagines it—the way you’d kiss his jaw, maybe even the corner of his mouth, as you hum. say please, toru, you’d probably say—and fuck, he’d kill to hear you say toru. 

“please,” he rasps, “please, baby. d-don’t tease.”

he can practically hear your light giggles, the sweet, okay, baby. no more teasing, that you might whisper. he’d also kill to hear you call him baby—he’s almost nauseous at the idea that some other guy must’ve heard the pet name from your lips before him. and then he lets himself pump his erection faster, squeezing tighter as his thighs quiver while he stands in the shower. 

fuck—you feel so good. you’re not even here, but he’s sure you do, and he’s desperate to envision it. it practically hurts—the way he’s so hard and swollen and ready to release. just for you, he wants to tell you, he’s going to cum all for you. 

“baby,” he whimpers, “‘m so, so close—fuck ‘m gonna cum. ‘s for you—gonna cum for you—ngh, sh-shit.”

and then there’s cum on the tile walls, on his hands, on his abs as they flex with every labored breath. satoru cums—hard. his eyes are squeezed shut, lips parted with a silent cry as he pants and strokes himself through his high. you’d kiss him, he likes to think, on his jaw and cheeks and maybe the tip of his nose as you sit on his lap and work him through his orgasm. you’d watch him closely, take in the way he comes undone for you, maybe even call him your pretty boy as he paints your hand white with his seed.

would you praise him? murmur softly into his ear and seal the gentle words with a kiss to his skin? would you stroke his hair from his face as you admire his blissful, fucked out little expression? maybe he’d ask you then—maybe he’d ask you to admit he’s way more handsome than that douchebag you dated as your hand holds his softening cock, sticky with his release.

god, what he wouldn’t do to see your hands coated with his cum—did you do this for your ex? did he look as hot as you claim he was when he came for you? the thought makes him sour—he grits his teeth and clenches his jaw at the idea, panting and catching his breath as he stares down at the mess he’s made.

he should feel bad—this is wrong. so, so wrong—suguru would kill him if he was aware satoru was lusting over his little sister. but it felt so fucking good—he’s never cum as hard as when he’s pictured cumming for you. 

it can’t be that wrong, if that’s the case—can it?

——

“suguru,” your voice is shrill, deadly—like you’re out for blood. “next time you jack off in the shower, maybe clean the fucking wall? are you joking?”

“wha—i definitely cleaned that,” suguru defends. 

oh, fuck, satoru thinks—he forgot to clean that. so he makes himself very scarce and stays within the confinements of suguru’s bedroom—his messy habits are starting to really catch up to him. if his defense, he really would clean that up…it’s just that he was a bit distracted. 

“so you admit you jack off in our shower? our shower?” you sound inconsolable, downright devastated, and borderline hysterical. having siblings seems like a lot of trouble, he thinks—but then again, sometimes satoru is jealous of your bond with suguru. it’d be nice to have someone in his family he can actually depend on. “keep that shit for your bedroom, you jackass!”

“well, how am i supposed to do that when satoru is there? you tell me.”

“i don’t know! figure it the fuck out—you guys probably jack off together anyway.”

“what?” suguru sounds appalled, “we do not—that’s outrageous.”

“whatever,” you say—you sound almost murderous as you warn, “next time you better clean up your fucking mess, you asshole.”

satoru can’t help but smile a little—your pointer finger is definitely held up as you scold suguru—you’re so cute when you’re mad, he thinks. he almost wants to step out and catch a glimpse, but he decides against it for now.

silently, satoru thanks his best friend for taking one for the team—even if it was unknowingly.

—————

it’s night four. 

satoru has surprisingly kept to himself—he even promptly looked away after meeting your eyes in the kitchen yesterday morning as you walked in for breakfast. that’s…new. a lot about satoru is new. 

he’s taller and more muscular now—at one point, suguru used to tower over his scrawny little form. now he’s seemed to grow into his body, seemed to learn how to style himself better, and actually do his hair a bit. it’s still messy now that he’s just lazing around in your home—but it’s oddly handsome. 

scarily handsome, in fact. 

you don’t enjoy the idea of thinking about the jerk of your childhood like that—but ever since you felt the hard press of his chest against your back, sometimes you wonder what it’s like to know satoru outside of just your older brother’s obnoxious friend. 

maybe, somewhere along the line, had you put your pride aside and actually tried to get to know him, maybe you both could at least be friendly. but then again, there’s never been any real animosity between you two—you can share a lighthearted talk from time to time, like that night in the kitchen. 

you decide not to dwell on it too much, decide that he’s not really worth your thoughts when he’s just a guy who’s always been a bit too spoiled to learn how to be humble. instead, you go down to the kitchen to grab another pack of strawberry pocky—satoru will just have to deal with it. if he doesn’t want his snacks eaten, he shouldn’t keep them in the pantry where anyone could stumble across them.

you walk into the kitchen until—oh. it’s satoru. again.

“oh, hey,” he grins cheekily, taking a sip of his coke—he needs to break the habit of having so much sugar this late at night…but then again, why would it matter to you? “stalkin’ me?”

“for an unwelcomed guest, you sure do talk a lot,” you roll your eyes, making his lips curl into a smug little smirk. 

“i don’t know—your parents seem to love having me over. what if i become their newest son?”

“i doubt my parents are looking to adopt you,” you raise a brow, slightly amused. 

he hums, sipping his coke before blinking at you through those long, perfect lashes of his. “well, there are other ways to blend into a family. marriage, for example, is a great way.”

“you and my brother might as well marry each other,” you snort, “no one else will do it.”

“who said anything about suguru?” he winks, chuckling when your face twists into an exaggerated look of horror—always as dramatic as ever, you are. he can’t help but find an endearing side to it now.

satoru stands, walks over to where you are and stands in front of you as you scoff, shaking your head as you huff out a disbelieving chuckle. 

“that’s pushing it,” you muse, “marrying you would be the last open option i’d have left—and even then i doubt i’d ever take it.”

“yeah?” he raises a brow, leaning in so close, you can practically feel his breath fan over you. he smells like expensive cologne and your shampoo—why is he using yours instead of suguru’s? before you can even ask him what he’s doing, he throws away the empty can of coke in the trash can behind you, eyes bright with amusement as your breath hitches.

it’s like he knows—the fucking asshole.

“yeah,” you breathe, “you don’t deserve me,” you try to say matter-of-factly. it comes off a bit more breathless than you intended—the air feels suffocating. maybe because satoru is so close, maybe because his breath is on your face, maybe because all you can smell and feel and hear is him. 

you can’t find it in yourself to pull away—why aren’t you pulling away? it’s just like that day he caught you, when his arms wrapped around you and all you felt like doing was lean into his chest. what about satoru and you has shifted so quickly to make you want to do that? what makes him so easy to fall into when all you’ve always known was to shove at him?

he hums, leaning in closer and closer until his forehead touches yours. “you know who didn’t deserve you?” he asks, “that shitty ex of yours.”

you look up at him with wide eyes, speechless as his hands find purchase of your hips, grabbing them and pulling you closer—and against better judgment, your hands lay themselves across his chest. it’s as firm as you remember it. 

“how would you know—”

“heard suguru rant about it all the time,” he murmurs, “how he forgot your dates. got you a shitty birthday present. didn’t show up to your anniversary. made you hang out with his friends and didn’t even meet half of yours. you’re tellin’ me he deserves you more than me?”

“he was hot—”

“yeah? and i’m not?”

he’s cocky—you hate that about him. always did. but he’s so close, so intoxicating, so irresistible, and fuck, he is hot—so incredibly hot, you’ve been losing sleep over it the last four nights no matter how hard you try to deny it. 

“satoru, what are you—”

“y’know, i’ve been helping suguru pick your birthday presents since you were twelve. i’d pick you the best gifts,” his nose is brushing against yours now, lips just millimeters away from his as he speaks—“and i never forget an important date. i’m very punctual too, believe it or not. i’d meet your little friends—show ‘em what a catch i am when you introduce me.”

“and what am i supposed to do with this information?” you ask defiantly.

it’s a last-ditch effort—you both know this. you know exactly what he wants you to do with this information. 

“i don’t know, sweetheart,” he chuckles, “what do you think?”

and then you’re kissing him—because fuck, satoru is right there, and how could you not? his chest is under your palms, his lips are right against yours, and you can feel his thumb rub circles into your hips. 

so you kiss him—loop your arms around his neck and tug him closer and press your lips to his. he groans, responds almost instantly as his mouth molds against yours, kissing you deeper as his hand moves to cup your cheek.

your lips are softer than he thought, and his hair is silky against your fingers. you tug at the strands, grab a handful, and feel them against your fingers like you’ve wanted to for so long. and when he nips at your bottom lip, who are you to deny him? your lips part, letting his tongue slide in and taste you with a breathy sigh that makes your knees wobble. 

“s-satoru,” you stutter, whispering between kisses, “suguru might come in like last time—”

“god,” he groans, head burying into your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses against the skin, “don’t fucking talk about your brother right now. please.”

“my room,” you say urgently—it’s all he needs to hear before his hands are on your ass, grabbing you as you wrap your legs around his hips. it’s urgent, the way his mouth is back on yours—he doesn’t pull away even once the entire walk to your room, not even when he lets your back fall onto the mattress as he hovers over you, pressing kisses along your collarbone. 

no bra, he notes happily, his hand sneaking under your shirt to toy with your pert nipples. 

“god, you’ve been driving me fuckin’ crazy,” he mumbles, tugging the hem of your shirt over your arms and tossing it over his shoulder. he stares, takes in the sight of the same tits he’s been fantasizing over for the last few days in awe. “you know that? been thinkin’ about these for days,” he says lowly, cupping your tit and massaging as he presses a kiss to your jaw. 

“you’re shameless,” you mutter, snorting before you cut yourself off with a gasp as he squeezes your nipple, pinching and rolling it between his fingers and pulling a soft whine from you.

“shhh,” he chuckles, tilting his head toward the wall next to you, “don’t want suguru to hear, do you? that wouldn’t be nice, would it?”

“it’ll be worse for you than me,” you grin, tugging at the hem of his own shirt, indicating you want it off. he grins widely, wiggling his brows and making you purse your lips.

“wanna see me shirtless again, huh? third times the charm, as they say,” he winks. you would retort with something as witty, but then your eyes fall on that tattoo again—right under his collarbone, making your hand reach out to trace it with your thumb. 

“what compelled you to get this corny little tattoo of yours,” you grin, giggling as you trace over the small infinity sign. 

for the first time, you think you witness satoru shy, blushing as he rubs the back of his neck and chuckles awkwardly. “that…that was an accident. when i got drunk for the first time.”

“oh,” you snort, “you’re so weak, satoru—”

“do me a favor, sweetheart,” he hums, cutting you off, “as much as i love when you say my name, say toru for me, yeah? i wanna hear it.”

you roll your eyes, huffing as your hand finds the back of his head and pulls him into another kiss, moaning into his mouth as he grinds the throbbing erection in his sweats over your heated core. 

“toru,” you say breathlessly, “more.”

that’s all he needs to hear—satoru doesn’t waste a second before he’s crawling between your legs, sliding your cute little pajama pants down your legs before meeting your dripping pussy.

it’s wet—so wet, he almost wants to chuckle and tease you a bit. just for old-time's sake. but the ache that shoots down to his cock reminds him that he’s in no position to tease you when he’s not faring any better himself. so he spreads your legs, kisses lightly at your clit in a feather-like touch that has you whimpering and clutching the sheets in anticipation.

“how pretty,” he mumbles, “been hiding this pretty little thing all this time. what a perfect pussy.”

“satoru,” you gasp in embarrassment, hands reaching for his hair and tugging him closer to where you need him most—equal parts because you really need his mouth on your cunt and equal parts because you really need him to shut up. 

but he chuckles, takes his time to spread your folds open with his thumbs, and watches in wonder as you flutter around nothing, arousal dripping and leaving a mess. it’s perfect—you’re perfect, and he wants to take his time with you. 

“god, you’re soaked,” he groans, chuckling as he murmurs, “that’s fuckin’ cute.”

before you can even whine at the way his words are shameless, his mouth is back to kissing your clit, lips wrapping around it as he sucks and rolls his tongue along the sensitive bud. his fingers sink deep into you, pushing past your folds and slowly bullying into you until the tips of his fingers curl and brush against a spot that makes you squeal. 

you gasp a breathy, “fuck, toru—” before he hums around your clit, vibrations making you whimper as he thrusts his fingers back in to hit that spot again. it’s sensitive, the way he makes you feel—your nerves are on fire, and your head is light, and fuck, it feels so good you can’t help but sob brokenly and squeeze your thighs around his head. he moans against your cunt, pulling his fingers out before letting his tongue lick a stripe along your slit, tasting you with a sharp inhale. 

“f-feels good,” you whimper, biting your lip as your eyes crinkle at the corners from squeezing shut.

“yeah?” he hums, kissing your inner thigh, leaving a wet little sheen of his spit and your arousal on the skin, “that’s a good girl—just keep telling me how good i make you feel, kay?”

he could stay buried nose-deep into your pussy for as long as you let him—tongue alternating between fucking into you and rolling over your swollen clit, hearing the broken little gasps and whines of his name as you repeat toru over and over again like a prayer. his hand grips at your thigh, sinking his fingertips into the plush skin and rubbing soothingly with his thumb as you rut your hips and grind against his face. 

satoru has half a mind to watch it again—to lick and suck at your core again and again just so he could burn into his mind what you look like when you cum. it’s divine—like he’s halfway to stepping into heaven and has to pause just to admire the sight before him. 

your hips leave the mattress as your back arches, and your fingers tug relentlessly at his roots as your walls quiver, letting satoru taste every drop of your release as you press a palm to your hand and try to keep yourself from squealing at the pleasure.

suguru is right next door. you can’t wake him—can’t let him know this is what you and his best friend get up to in the late hours of the night. 

it’s not until satoru pulls away, catching his breath as he wipes the wet trail on his chin does he realize how hard he is—how badly he’s aching as his cock strains against his sweats. he hisses as he frees himself; ridding his sweats and boxers and wrapping a large hand around the tip of his erection and smearing the leaking pre cum along his length. 

you watch in awe, reaching over and replacing his hand with yours. satoru was right—your hand is infinitely smaller than his, and yet, it feels a great deal better. so much better, in fact, that his arms shake as he hovers over you, burying his head into your neck and groaning as you slowly stroke him, squeezing at the tip and rolling your thumb through the slit.

he didn’t even have to show you what he wanted, what makes him feel good, what makes his mind fog with pleasure and burn through every nerve. no, you figure it all out on your own, pulling strangled moans and hushed gasps from him that make your clit ache once more. 

“fuck, baby,” he pants, “can’t last long like this—c’mon, g-gotta feel you.” gently, he pries your hand from his thick, pulsing cock, laying it against your stomach as he peers down in fascination. “i’ll be right here,” he hums, drawing a line on your skin right where his tip ends, “see that? that’s where you’ll feel me, sweetheart.”

“then let me feel you,” you murmur, cupping his cheeks and brushing a thumb over the skin, “fuck me, toru—wan’ it so bad.”

so he does—drags his tip along your folds and collects the slick pooling at your entrance before pushing his tip past your folds, splitting you in half as he slowly buries himself to the hilt. his jaw is clenched, breath labored as he waits for you to adjust, lets you kiss his cheeks and nose as you murmur how handsome he is, how perfect he feels, how good is to you. 

“that asshole ever make you cum?” he asks lowly, “he ever eat your pussy like that? make you cum hard enough you had to cover your mouth so you’re not screaming his name?”

“no,” you breathe, quivering as his thumb rolls over your clit in slow circles, still painfully still as he stares down at you, “n-no, never. just you—only you—”

“good,” he grins, “that’s what i like to hear. and when i make you cum on my cock, make sure to tell me he’s never done that either, yeah?”

“you’re full of it,” you scoff, “always have been.”

“and you’re full of me,” he says cheekily, chuckling as you glare half-heartedly. “can i move, baby? please? need more, ‘s not enough. n-need more—”

“yeah,” you whimper, pulling him closer, chests brushing against each other as your lips meet in a sloppy kiss, “yeah—need more too, toru.”

satoru, in all his years of knowing you, has never seen the side of you that could be this gentle. the side that glides your hands over his back, feeling every flex and every pull of his muscles, gently caressing the skin like it’s holy, like it’s not worthy of marks—instead to be worshipped and revered with thoughtful touches. your lips sear into every part of him they can find—his lips, his forehead, his nose, his hair as his face digs into your neck. even your voice is a gentle whisper of his name, so soft and careful, it’s like saying it wrong could break him. 

your hips buck up in tandem with his, meeting his rhythm as he slams into you, his balls slapping against your skin as he buries his cock into you as deep as it’ll go with every harsh thrust. you can feel his tip kissing against that sweet spot in the back of your walls, your abused cunt sucking him in and hugging around him as he groans. 

the friction feels sickening, like he’ll pass out any second, like he’s floating between the precipice of pleasure and the edge of consciousness. 

you do that to him—he doesn’t know how or when or why, but you make him feel like he doesn’t have a grip on his own senses. he doesn’t mind it so much, he thinks—doesn’t hate the idea of letting himself fall into your palm and wrap around him. it feels nicer that way, like it’s where he belongs.

“fuck, ‘s so tight,” he rasps, whining into your neck as your hand cups the back of his head, holding him in place. his hips are rutting into you sloppily now, barely maintaining the rhythm from before as he nears his high—but that doesn't stop him from angling into you perfectly, slamming into your sensitive spot every time without fail. “c-cum—’m gonna cum. cum with me, sweetheart.”

“‘m so close, toru,” you sob—and then, just as his thumb finds your clit again, rubbing harsh, desperate little circles to get you over the edge, you cum again—harder than the last time, spasming around his cock and pulling him in as you squeeze around him. “t-toru,” you gasp brokenly, “fuck, ‘s good—so good.”

“baby,” he moans lowly, “fuck, you’re so perfect. prettiest thing ever—prettiest pussy ever. i, sh-shit—” your orgasm quickly has him falling into his own, hot, thick ropes of cum spilling into you with every twitch of his cock, sweet little noises pulled from his throat that he sings into your neck, fucking his load into you. 

it’s messy, the way cum spills out of you and coats his cock—but it’s perfect and feels so, so right. you can’t help but think how perfectly satoru fits against you as his body slumps on top of yours, panting and spent as he cages you in his arms.

your hand doesn’t leave his hair—now that you know how it feels, you don’t think you can stop threading your fingers through it, ever. 

“wow, toothless,” he chuckles after a bit, “you’re seriously obsessed with me, huh? i mean, how long have you been nursing this crush on me, hmm? thinking about your brother’s best friend, you naughty little thing—”

“satoru, would you shut that mouth for once,” you hiss, rolling your eyes—still, there’s an affectionate grin on your lips this time as he chuckles into your skin. 

“oh baby, i’m afraid this mouth never shuts, so you should get used—”

suddenly, you both freeze as you hear suguru’s voice through the door. “you two better not be fucking doing what i think you’re doing,” he seethes, making your jaw drop and satoru’s eyes widen.

fuck—that was never supposed to happen. suguru was never supposed to hear, let alone know.

“hey,” satoru starts, “if suguru kicks me out of our place, i can come be your new permanent housemate, right?”

do not comment about a part 2

but yeah he can come live with me any time and as long as he pays by sucking my tiddies i shall provide all food and utilities and everything

[grade1sorcerer]

✎ curiosity

- gojo satoru x reader

when gojo is found out by his own son during your nighttime activities

genre: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact! crack, fluff, dad!gojo

note: based on a fun suggestion by anon! and it’s been sooo long in my drafts🤧 anyways gojo in phantom parade game is so otome-coded, look at his innocent face!—that's how he's going to be while explaining this to his son

a part of gojo's love entries

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

"Nghh—Satoru... ah!" you mewled, breathless, right after the third time he made you cum on his fingers alone.

Gods, even with one kid already running around, Satoru never stopped acting like he desired you like when you were still newlyweds. The glint in his eyes never dulled—always smirking at you as if you were the prey, as he licked his fingers with a wicked smile.

"Ah, sweets, are you ready to take me in now?" he cooed in your ear. Really, he was at his limit, seeing how he brought pleasure to you as you writhed under him made him this close to becoming undone too.

With your nod of approval, he wasted no time. He gripped your hips, and swiftly slid his thick cock between your folds. As he sank into you—making himself fit, you accidentally let out a loud moan.

“So pretty,” Satoru groaned through clenched teeth, marveling at your scrunched face, feeling how your legs wrapped around his waist in compliance. “Still so tight for me...”

And the way you squeezed your eyes shut right before he started to pound into you made him finally lose it, as he hotly grunted in that raw, almost feral voice—

“All mine.”

With each thrust, you quite literally squealed. Seems like you were sensitive at this time of the month, because your senses were heightened and you couldn't help the nasty moans leaving your lips. The sensation of him repeatedly slamming his hips against you turned you into a crying mess, and had you totally forgetting that your toddler was sleeping just next door.

And when his climax exploded within you with one last powerful thrust, his hot cum spurting hard, stuffing you to the brim and painting your womb white— you clawed at him, tugged him closer to your breasts as a mix of scream and moan of his name escaped your lips, trembling at the depth to which he was burying himself inside you.

You were panting, totally spent, sensing the familiar way of his cum trickling down your thighs. And at that moment, you could have sworn you heard the patter of footsteps nearby. Before you could fully register it, Satoru hastily pulled the blanket to cover you both.

Suddenly, your bedroom's door swung open, revealing your precious boy standing there, visibly sleepy but worried. "Mama?"

You muttered your son's name weakly, disoriented, and it only served to worry him further. His little eyes widened, and he took a step—

"No, no, kiddo!" Satoru urged in a panic. "Stay there! Don't move!"

His son eyed him suspiciously. "What are you doing? Why are you crushing mama?"

"I—" Satoru collected himself, and put on the most innocent smile. "I'm... helping mama to sleep, you see."

You went pale, now that you realized the situation you were in. Your son had just seen you and your husband in the middle of the act. You were silently grateful for Satoru's quick thinking for covering both of you to spare your son from the indecency.

"Helping?" your son gaped in disbelief. "But she was just crying!"

"Yeah, she cried because she couldn't sleep," Satoru blurted, still smiling benevolently like he hadn't nothing wrong. You felt the urge to facepalm at his terrible excuse and the irony of the situation—how close he was to collapsing beside you, and that he hadn't even pulled out of you yet.

Your intelligent boy wasn't easily convinced, that was what you would expect of him.

"How's you hovering over her will help her sleep?"

“With this position, she'll sleep more comfortably, you know,” he asserted confidently, prompting a subtle twitch in your eye. He turned to you, a stupid grin on his face. “And who knows, it might also help to make your sibling. Isn’t it true, dear?”

Satoru nudged your side, willing you to agree with him. You were in utter shock and shot him a dark glare, before looking at your distraught son in a flurry. “Y-yeah… I’m fine, baby. Go back to your room now.”

“You're not hurting, Mama?” the little boy asked you worriedly. Thank heavens he was more focused on you rather than Satoru's little comment.

“No. Your papa is just… trying to help. I’m okay, yeah?”

“If you say so…” your son pouted reluctantly. He shifted his gaze on his father and 'hmph'-ed in accusation. “You’re weird.”

"Hey!" Satoru exclaimed, comically offended. "What are you doing here, anyway? Can't you sleep?"

“I heard noises... and now I want to go to the bathroom…”

Your husband grunted. "Fine, I'll come with you. Just wait a moment and close the door, please?"

Your son threw one last concerned glance at you before shutting the door. Both of you let out collective sighs of relief.

“I swear, he’s such a brat. He used to be so lovable too,” Satoru grumbled under his breath, finally slipping out of you and rolled to your side. He playfully tapped your lower belly and winked. “I hope it’s a daughter next. She will surely be daddy's girl.”

Your body was still shivering as a result of your high earlier, and yet you still managed to side-eye him, hissing, “I'm going to kill you, Gojo Satoru.”

“Wha—”

“Sleep more comfortably? A sibling?”

“Well, can’t we just say that we’re going to give him—”

“Satoru, don’t you put more weird ideas in our son’s head.”

“But—!”

“The moment you do, and if I catch you, I swear to God, I'm banishing you from our bed.”

Epilogue

“Uncle Nanami… does sleeping in certain position will give me a sibling?”

Nanami almost choked on his own words. “What?”

On this rather fine day, he had agreed to help you keep an eye on your child, as both you and Satoru went on separate missions.

He might not be able to stand his senior, but Nanami couldn’t deny that he had a soft spot for the toddler even if he was a carbon copy of his father, as the boy was sweet and overall more like you in nature.

Your son blinked at him curiously. “Papa said not to tell this to mama, but when I asked, he was actually trying to give me a brother or sister to play with when he squished mama on the bed the other day.”

Nanami felt a vein about to burst at the very implication. In hindsight, he shouldn’t be surprised at Gojo Satoru’s unrefined parenting skills but then again, anything that annoying clown did always managed to surprise him one way or another. He let out a long sigh.

“Kid, forget what your father said.”

“Huh? Is that not true then?”

“Report this to your mother, yeah? Ask her too, she will have better answers for you.”

[grade1sorcerer]

Some Jujutsu Kaisen main male voice actors recorded character x you scenarios such as... "valentines day" or "you wake up from a bad dream"

This is real and they are on YouTube I thought you all should know. Its in Japanese only but I could translate them if anyone is interested? Let me know.

Here is one of them, the "calling them in the middle of the night because you miss them". Spoiler they all end up visiting you. Featuring Mahito, Yuuji, Nanami, and of course the one and only Gojo Satoru (which was way too good I can't even 😳)

See notes for translation

[grade1sorcerer]

GOJOU SATORU, SIX EYES happy birthday beru @koujis ♡ 

[grade1sorcerer]

thinking ab it too

Just thinking about Virgin Bakugou who has absolutely no idea what the hell he’s looking at when he sees you for the first time.

Yeah, he’s watched porn and he essentially knows what a pussy looks like, but it’s a completely surreal experience seeing it wet and dripping right in front of him.

Especially knowing it’s connected to you.

He silently loves the fact that you’re directing him through how to pleasure you. He was ready to argue, but the thought of being bad or even hurting you started to override his superiority complex of knowing and being amazing at everything.

You tell him to lay between your spread legs, how to touch you, where. You spread your own puffy lips, pink opening glistening with your arousal as he just moans at the sight, grinds his rapidly filling cock against the mattress.

He dives in before you give him proper instructions, just starts lapping at your entrance, sucking up the rolls of slick that drops between your cheeks. He practically sucks the dampened sheets underneath your ass in between desperate lips, eyes rolling in the back of his head at your sweet taste.

He just laps at your opening for a while before you tug his soft, spiky hair tight in your fingers. You’re trying to be gentle about guiding him, but he’s just taking what he wants.

He needs to listen.

So you pull your lips back further with one hand, legs spreading even wider so he could get an even clearer view of your fluttering hole that’s slick with your juices and his spit. You use your index finger to roll slightly over you clit as you force his head to become eye level with it.

“Lick her. Pay attention to her. Give her a kiss, just focus on her. Okay, handsome?”

You try to use your sweetest voice, which actually works. Bakugou moans, nodding his head as much as he can in your grip. He lowers his head, still keeping eye contact as he gives your clit the softest little kiss. When your eyes flutter, a breathy moan slipping through your lips, is when he realizes he’s doing everything right.

He goes about it viciously the more you moan, the more your hips shake, the harder your grip gets in his hair, the harder you buck your trembling cunt against his open and pliant mouth. He knows his cock is leaking like a faucet on the bedsheet with the way he’s grinding and humping it, like some feral dog.

“Good boy,” you praise through a whine. “Good f-fucking boy, Katsuki. You listen s’good, handsome.” You’re slurring, one hand pinching your nipple while the other shoved Bakugou even further between your thighs. You’re warming his ears at this point, heels digging into his strong back as you never let him come up for air. He doesn’t act like he needs it anyway, not with the way he greedily gulps your juices and inhales your scent with a shuddering moan.

“Just put a finger inside—ah! Just like th-that! Fuck I’m gonna—” Bakugou listens immediately, shoving not one, but two thick fingers inside of your sopping wet heat. He pumps his fingers twice, one more time with a curl and you’re bursting all over his face.

Your release is messy, prolonged as he continues sucking on your clit lazily, trying to help you come down from your high. After you push softly at his head, he’s pulling away and sitting up on heels.

Bakugou is panting, his cock drooling an obscene amount of precum as he grips his base to keep from coming too early. He looks desperate, cheeks red, eyes low, his bottom lip bitten harshly between white teeth. He waits for further instruction like the good boy he wants you to call him.

“Now fuck me with this fat cock like a good boy, before I fucking take it.” You can’t help but growl. He just looks so good like this, all desperate, his cock hanging heavily between thick muscled thighs you want to crush you, hanging onto your every word and whisper. He whimpers, fucking whimpers, body shivering as he grips himself harder to keep from coming. You can feel your eyebrows raise in surprise.

“Oh? You like that? Like the thought of being used as my human dildo?” You tease, leaning forward to grip his pulsing cock between your hands, batting his own away. He nods, mouth dropping open to let a quiet groan as you pump him quickly, building him up until he’s close to coming. You let go when he starts to fuck into your hand, when his balls start tightening up closer to his body, when his tongue starts to slowly loll out of his mouth.

He releases a frustrated grunt, red eyes glowering down at you as he pouts. You can’t help but laugh, bringing your hand to your mouth to lick away the precum that has made your hand sticky, keeping eye contact the entire time. You crook a finger to him, and he follows, almost in a daze.

Grabbing his cock again, you position it at your wet entrance, rubbing the tip against you, slapping it down onto your clit wetly. After getting the choked gasp and whine you wanted, you lay back, wrap your legs around his tiny waist and smirk.

“Better not come too fast, or else I’ll really use you like a human fucking dildo. Get to work, handsome.” And he does.

Just thinking about Virgin Bakugou.

[grade1sorcerer]

On Call | Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

This is a collaboration between @jodrawssmut​ and I!

I am super excited that we finally get to post this! Both this fic and art were born from Jo’s idea. We’ve been working on this together for the last few weeks and it has been SO much fun! Jo, you’re so frigging talented and honestly you blow me away every single time with your art. Thank you for doing this with me 💕

♡ Please check out her amazing art that goes perfectly with this fic here. ♡

And follow Jo on her N*SFW Twitter for more incredible art.

Warnings: 18+, voyeurism, exhibitionism, jealous!bakugou.

Word Count: 10,115.

The world had changed immensely since the pandemic had taken over, changing your way of working quite drastically. No longer did you have to wake up early for work, preparing yourself for the long commute into the office. Instead, you could spend your days in your pyjamas if you liked, answering emails at the desk Bakugou had bought you. An hour spent putting it together to help you have a comfortable space to work, considering you’d now be spending a lot more time at home. His job still required him to go out, much to your dismay. As a Pro-Hero he was considered a frontline worker, and because of this, it meant you were stuck at home, ensuring that you kept yourselves, and others, safe.

This new way of working should have been a blessing, giving you more time at home to spend with your fiancé. Your work schedules both hectic before the pandemic, already fighting to find time to spend together as you worked through your differing rota’s. Bakugou getting an onslaught of night patrol while you had to be up in the mornings, slumping into the bed as you got up to leave. It had been difficult, but you both made it work. The pandemic, however, meant Bakugou’s work shifts were longer, even more, unsocial hours. You cherished the few days off you had together because it meant you could escape from the chore of daily life and fall into him.

Mornings like this were few and far between, his cheek pressed against the swell of your breast as he wrapped his strong, muscular arms around your smaller frame. Your fingertips stroking delicate patterns against his back, following the shape of his scars as you lay in bed. No alarms needed this morning as you allowed the sunlight peeking in through your blinds to coax you both awake. Bakugou always struggled waking up in the morning, often needing you to help him out of bed. When you weren’t around it was certain that he’d have at least four alarms set on his phone at five-minute intervals to ensure he was up and out of bed for work. But there was no need for any of that this morning, a rare day off shared together as you listened to the gentle hum of his snores, his head rising and falling against your chest as you breathed gently. Completely captivated by the bliss of being in each other’s arms, releasing a blissful sigh.

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[grade1sorcerer]

thank you sm for the tag <33

Bakugou Katsuki

Kuroo Tetsurou

Chrome

Describe Yourself in 3 Characters:

Tagged by: @akaashi-bby (thx queen <3)

Tamaki Suoh

Yamaguchi Tadashi

Nico Robin

Tagging: @bean-reblogs @kei7ime @tender-rosiey @suzouyas

[grade1sorcerer]

these type of fics help me f e e l

a heavy heart .iii

⤷ in which your boyfriend manages to fall in love with someone else

pairing | kirishima eijiro / reader / bakugo katsuki 

words | 2.458

note | this is long overdue, im sorry!! school got a little busy and I had a hard time writing Bakugo’s character hhhhh 

previous | next

At the sound of the chirping alarm, your hand immediately left the confines of your warm blanket to switch it off. You rose up with a yawn, reflexively shivering as your feet touched the cold wooden floor. Usually you would have snoozed it a few times but today was different; you didn’t feel the usual dread that came along on Tuesdays. The interaction with a certain blonde had left you feeling less uneasy.

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[grade1sorcerer]

29+ bakubabe? Also congratulations 🎉😄💖💕

“It’s you. It’s never been anyone else but you.”

–insecurity comes to visit you as your close friend Bakugou starts to become more popular, making you question if you’re worth being around him

word count: 1,665

A/N: i think this is the third time you guys shared a a brain cell and requested the exact same thing hehe i just find it so cool!

check out my other works on this dialogue prompt list!

*~*~*~*~*

It’s no secret that Bakugou is an attractive man. 

Despite still being a senior in high school, you know how popular he is, especially among girls. When you guys are out in public, you’d always hear whispers about how hot he is and how they’d let him have his way with them. Online, you’d see fan edits of him and people thirsting over his videos showing off his power and strength.

Even famous celebrities reach out to him, shooting their shot. Bakugou never retaliated to their feelings as he’s too focused on being the number one hero, but you can’t help but feel uneasy. It’s unnerving to be his close friend when he’s getting so much attention. Insecurity eats you up whenever you’re close to him because he’s just so perfect and you’re… you.

“Oi, you’ve been avoiding me all day,” Bakugou slams your dorm room open, glaring at you with his vermillion eyes. “The fuck is your problem?”

You swirl your spinny chair away from him, not wanting him to see the full coverage makeup on your face. “What do you mean? I wasn’t avoiding you,” you reply with your back faced to him. 

That’s a lie. You have been avoiding him, but that’s just because you’re just fed up with being frowned upon when you’re with him. Bakugou has been your friend since middle school because you attended the same school as him and Midoriya, and that’s why you’re usually by his side. You don’t do well with new people and even though Bakugou isn’t the nicest person, he was someone you can depend on because you’re familiar with him. He can never disappoint you, unlike new people, because you know how he is. 

Anyway, people can’t seem to get that you and him are just friends. First and second years gossip about you when you’re with the famous student, commenting on how they don’t understand why Bakugou is hanging out with you. You don’t wanna hear those comments anymore, so you refrain from being near him.

“Actually, it’s just not today,” he grumbles angrily. You hear him enter your room after he slams the door behind you. The hinges creak from his strength, and you wince, knowing that you’ll have to fix that later. “You’ve been avoiding me for the past week, and I do not appreciate being fucked around.”

Bakugou is observant, so he’d obviously notice doing everything you can to be away from him. You might have thought that he didn’t care, but he did–he does care. Every time you chose one of your girl friends as your sparring partner, his chest burned with fury. Whenever you walked in the other direction after you saw him walking towards you, he wanted to scream at the top of his lungs in frustration. He racked his brain for something he might have done wrong to you, the only person he doesn’t get annoyed with, yet nothing came up to his brain.

Your avoidance is driving him nuts.

You try your best to swallow the lump on your throat. “I’ve been busy, Bakugou. I wasn’t ignoring you, I swear.”

Bakugou doesn’t understand why you’re not facing him. Do you not want to see him? Are you hiding something from him? He hates that he’s thinking about these useless questions because of you, so he blocks them off with his anger. “Like hell you were busy. And why the hell are you not facing me? Look at me when I’m talking to you, idiot.”

Before you know it, Bakugou stomps towards you to swirl you around. His eyes bulge out of his sockets to see you look so beautiful with your makeup. “The fuck happened to your face?” he exclaims, making you turn away from him again.

Of course you take it the wrong way. How can you not when Bakugou doesn’t know how to be nice? “It’s called makeup, dummy. I’m going to a party later.”

You need the huge crowd filled with thirsty boys to remind you that you’re pretty. You need the alcohol to forget about your insecurity, to forget that Bakugou will never look at you the way you wanted. How can he, when you’re a mess compared to him? Anyone would kill to date him, so why would he choose you?

“No, you’re not,” he scoffs. “You’re not going to a fuckin’ party. You’re going to do extra training with me, like you usually beg me for.”

Suddenly finding the confidence, you swirl back at him, crossing your arms. “I am going, and you can’t stop me. Now leave, I have to get ready.”

“Don’t fuckin’ tell me what to do–what are you doing?” he immediately turns around as you unzip the jumper you’re wearing, his ears turning red.

“I told you I’m going to get ready,” you can’t help but smile through your angry tone. Funny how he acts all high and mighty but the moment he sees you stripping, it’s like he becomes an actual high school boy with teenage hormones. “Just leave, Bakugou, you can’t stop me.”

If you weren’t changing, Bakugou would’ve argued more. But he’s uncomfortable that you’re getting naked in the same room as him, so he leaves your room, grumbling incoherent profanities under his breath.

Bakugou doesn’t bother you after that, but that doesn’t mean he stopped thinking about you. As the night goes on, his worry for you grows stronger. He hates that he can’t sleep because of you. All he can think about is you looking so gorgeous in a party filled with horny men, and his body ignites with rage. 

At 2 a.m., you’re still not home. After yelling into his pillow and giving it a few punches, Bakugou stands up from his bed to dress up, getting ready to go to you. You had sent your location earlier because that’s what you guys always do after Bakugou got kidnapped during your guys’ first year.

Surprisingly, it isn’t hard to find you. It’s like you and Bakugou are magnets and he’s drawn to you despite there being like a hundred people in the house party. He runs to the couches at the corner, where you’re currently sprawled on with your head thrown back. 

“You dumbass.” Bakugou growls, picking you up with any hesitation. “Why are you so fuckin’ drunk?”

Instead of answering this question, you gag into your hands. Bakugou’s eyes widen as he runs to the nearest bathroom, praying to the heavens above that you don’t puke on him. He barges in the ladies’ room, not caring about the group of women crying together, and guides you to the toilet. You throw up and Bakugou holds your hair back, rubbing soothing circles on your back with his face turned away from you, his eyebrows pulled together in annoyance. 

Truthfully, he’s far from feeling annoyed. He’s actually hurt and devastated because he doesn’t know why you’d do this to yourself. Bakugou thought that he knew you, so why doesn’t he understand your actions right now?

Once you’re done vomiting, Bakugou carries you and sits you on the sink. Everyone in the bathroom runs away from his death glare, leaving the two of you alone. He grabs paper towels and wet them, cleaning your face up. He’s usually an aggressive person, so you’re surprised as he rubs your face with newfound tenderness. 

“Why would you do this to yourself?” he demands, but the look on his face isn’t stern at all.

Maybe it’s because of the alcohol or because your heart is beating annoyingly fast, you’re not sure, but you finally speak your mind. “I thought this would make me feel better.”

“From what?”

“From you.”

Bakugou stops cleaning your face. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

You let out a sigh, turning away from him. “Look, you might have not noticed, but you’re popular now. I can’t hangout with you anymore because I get so much hate, which I understand because you’re the great Bakugou Katsuki.”

“Besides, I don’t wanna be a burden. You can be happy with all those celebrities and all your fangirls, Bakugou. I’m sure they will be a great help to your career.”

You thought you were making so much sense, so you’re surprised when Bakugou suddenly plants his hands on each side of your body. His head is bowed down as you look at him, his voice low. “Do you think those silly fucks would satisfy me, you dumbass? Do you think I’d just let you decide on what my own happiness is?”

Your head throbs with pain, and it’s not because of alcohol. “Isn’t that what you wanted, for people to notice your power and strength? Now you have tons of other people cheering for you, why wouldn’t you be happy?”

From his anger and frustration, his quirk goes off, sparks flying from each side of you. “Don’t you fuckin’ understand what actually makes me happy, Y/N?”

“No!” you snap. “How can I, when you’re always just screaming profanities at my face?”

Your own anger melts away when Bakugou finally looks up, his red eyes meeting your gaze. They’re the softest they’ve ever been, and your heartbeat races at the sight.

“It’s you. It’s never been anyone else but you.” Bakugou admits gruffly but softly, looking so defeated.

The universe becomes perfectly balanced as you throw your arms around him, burying your face in his neck. “I’ve been wanting to hear that from you for so long,” you cry, “because no one ever made me feel this way except you, Katsuki.”

Bakugou’s arms are immediately around you, pulling you close to him. “I’ll fuckin’ beat up those little shits for making you feel insecure,” he vows, and you can’t help but chuckle.

The rising star doesn’t even care about his reputation anymore. All he cares about is that you never ever feeling like you weren’t good enough for him ever again because to him, it’s actually the other way around. 

[grade1sorcerer]

SITES FOR WRITERS

Fantasy name generator

Fighter’s block - try to defeat a monster by writing

Child’s Traits Calculator ; predict a child’s appearance 

Child’s Traits Calculator ; predict other traits

Fifty Plot Twist Ideas For Your Work-In-Progress!

Name generator (Character, Baby, Last name, etc.)

Plot generator ; Inspiration for your next novel, film or short story

Character generator ; Generate Rich Characters in Seconds

Writing Exercises ;  This site provides (completely free) writing prompts and exercises to help you get started with creative writing and break through writing blocks. 

Notebook ; create your characters, worlds, objects, places, etc. and save them

Festisite ; Create a fake license, marriage certificate, credit card, ticket and you can find other stuff as well.

The most common last names in the US

Lists of most common surnames

List of most popular given names

List of the least common surnames [last names] in America, rank 16,001-20,000

Fantasy name generator (again)

Random Name Generator (Choose origins, gender, etc.)

Said is dead (Remember that you can use said, don’t use it to less.)

How Much Blood Can The Human Body Lose? 

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The 6 Types of Collars Every Man Should Know by Name 

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Differences Between a Short Story, Novelette, Novella, & a Novel

Hemingway editor ;  It grades your writing by its readability. 

Zen writer ; writing without distractions (Might not be free after a while)

33 Ways to Write Stronger Characters

75+ bad habits for your character

30 SCENE IDEAS FOR CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT

10 Things Writers Don’t Know About The Woods

British and American terms

Free writing worksheets

Feel free to add more!

[grade1sorcerer]

reverence / sukuna x reader.

word count: 2.9k.

notes: i’m pretty sure a few people have written for this concept already, but i’m hoping my take isn’t too duplicative! it’s a follow-up to this drabble i wrote for my 100 followers event because i haven’t stopped thinking about this scenario since…. really hope you all enjoy! especially you, anon, who put in the initial request :)

also! if this manga edit belongs to you, let me know so i can credit you! 

warnings: nsfw/18+, historical au, dubcon/noncon, breeding, exhibitionism / voyeurism, ritual descriptions, crying during sex, cult / harem vibes, exophilia (this is set in sukuna’s original era, so he’s got all his arms), the standard darkness that comes with sukuna - reader’s manhandled a little bit.

It hasn’t been long since the ceremony. Two weeks total, sun up to sun down. In that time, a few women have shown signs of Sukuna’s seed taking root - an uptick in their hunger, belly markings that mirror his - and were taken to live in the main altar. You, on the other hand, see no fruit for your sacrifice, save for nerves that’re always buzzing beneath the surface.

Being chosen to bear his heir is meant to be a blessing. A duty to your village, a merit to your family. But, no one talks about the loneliness that follows. The paranoia of living under his roof, hoping to prove your worth. Or even the worry you have to bear with the likelihood of death long before any child that is conceived comes to term.

No one cares about the women lost to the King of Curses.

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[grade1sorcerer]

You stared at your reflection in the bathroom mirror. You could barely hear yourself think. You’d been attempting to sober up for some odd 20 minutes, whilst the pumping music faded through the tiled walls.

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[grade1sorcerer]

Please Let Me Take You Masterlist

Bakugou x F!Reader, Kirishima x F!Reader

TWs: Cheating, angst, unhealthy/abusive relationship, manipulation, smut, 

You were the fiancee of one of the Top Five Heroes- Bakugou Katsuki.

Like all things, he was passionately devoted to your relationship as long as it didn’t get in the way of his hero work. And hero work is why he hasn’t been home in days, why you only see him for quick, kinda uncomfortable sex every once in a while, and why you aren’t able to move closer to a place that has a job in your field. Yeah, that has to be it. He’s just a really good hero. Like your best friend Ochako’s husband… who is home every night doting on his pregnant wife…

No matter, you won’t be that clingy girlfriend. It was just a settling in phase. You’ll just grin and bear it, and it will all work out, right?

Until then, maybe you could make a few more friends while you waited for Katsuki to come home.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven - Coming Soon!

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

[grade1sorcerer]

is it bakugou thirsting hours? it’s bakugou thirsting hours.

bakugou has a huge dumbification kink. he wants you fucked stupid, drunk off his dick. he’ll pound into you with no regard for your pussy, groaning about how tight your pretty pussy is around him. his goal is for you to not even form a cohesive sentence when he’s finished. 

“my dick got you speechless now, hah?” you feel your eyes roll back into your skull and your tongue loll out of your mouth, drool dribbling from the sides. the familiar feeling of heat started to build up in your abdomen for the 3rd? 4th time, your blissful release getting closer and closer, you could almost taste it.

“kat- katsu, ‘m so c-close, please,” you beg with the last of your energy, body writhing under him. “so greedy baby, gonna cream all over my cock again? begging me to fuck you dumb? i’ll give you what you want, princess. make you feel good till all you know is my fucking name.”

[grade1sorcerer]

some fucking resources for all ur writing fuckin needs

* body language masterlist

* a translator that doesn’t eat ass like google translate does

* a reverse dictionary for when ur brain freezes

* 550 words to say instead of fuckin said

* 638 character traits for when ur brain freezes again

* some more body language help

(hope this helps some ppl)

[grade1sorcerer]

KT 4- A Mothers Milk- Bakugou Katsuki

This one is just pathetic I’m so sorry. I’ll try making up for it I promise Kinktober Masterlist Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki/Reader Warnings: R18, lactation kink/breastfeeding, pregnancy kink, minor praise kink, biting, fingering W.C: ~3k Kink Focus: lactation

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[grade1sorcerer]

it’s too cold outside for angels to fly || katsuki bakugou.

* pairing: pro-hero!katsuki bakugou x angel quirk!reader (gender neutral!)

* genre: fluff, angst, actually sfw (wow, luna’s can do that?!)

* words: 8.1k (it’s a big baby!)

* warnings: mentions of trauma, reader is insecure but it’s not their entire personality, therapy (not a lot of scenes with it), slight intoxication, mentions of throwing up (not much), like one suggestive joke, (light) cussing because bakugou

* original request: All I’m saying is reader with a angel quirk and the reader even has wings AND ANGST (but happy at the end 🥺) WITH BAKUGOU sounds so good 😔 but of course if you don’t want to do that it’s fine no pressure 💕

* a/n: hi ‘nonnie! i hope you like you like this! honestly, it turned out longer than i expected (twice the length lol) but i’m proud of this baby. i’d like to note that enko, the nickname bakugou calls reader means 'halo’ in japanese and can double down as a name, and an important reminder not to take any advice from the therapy in this fic. i am not a professional therapist, and please seek advice for situations specific to yours. the name of the fic is inspired by a lyric from ed sheeran’s 'a-team,’ but i promise it’s not that dark. thanks so much to @toishi​ and the amazing feedback from @dylanxmin​ for beta-reading this! hope you enjoy!

* synopsis: you were your parents’ perfect angel. you listened, and you followed. you didn’t become a pro-hero, you stayed inside per your parents’ request. it was okay if you couldn’t fly; or, at least it was, before katsuki bakugou came along…

your grandmother loved pastries. that’s why you were here, trekking through the cold city in the tokyo winter. you shivered everytime your feathers came in contact with the frigid air, as if they, too, cowered under the looming shadows of tall buildings and bright lights.

so many people roamed the sidewalks, yet any bodily warmth was gone. you regretted not buying a cover for your wings - surely, it’d be an investment despite the price. wing covers were rarely manufactured for your size in japan, mainly aimed for small children just developing a quirk. the extra cloth needed for adult wing covers as well as shipping costs jacked up the price, making you hesitant to buy them. your wings were folded against the outside of your coat (putting them inside gave you cramps), nuzzling against your back subconsciously for heat. your wings were a pale cream colour, slightly more vibrantly mustard-coloured at the tips, and were the most visible part of your quirk.

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