#Gojo x reader

[edensrose]

“you know,” yaga started slowly, side-eyeing the sea of alumini surrounding him. covered in wounds and scratches alike. yet all eyes fix to the scene only a few metres away.

the strongest sorcerer of the modern age, bent and observing every inch of your being. you, his wife. his large hands cupping your face once he's assured no fatal harm has come onto you.

some eyes soften as you're dragged into satoru's strong arms. some hitch their breaths at the look of softness in bright blue eyes that boasted utmost feralness but a moment ago. when your life was on the line. when the sea of opponents thought it a grand idea to target you — the honoured one's beloved.

“if anything happens to that woman," yaga continued, blank, despite the small throat clear.

“we're all done for.”

[tonycries]

FIT CHECK?!

Synopsis. Don’t think you can fit all of him? Funny.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Ino x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem!reader, making him fit, size kínk, length + girth analysis, tummy buIges, marathons, unprotected, cúmplay, matíng presses, GOJO’S POWERS, true form Sukuna, dp, they’re BIG, first times (Choso, Ino), PÚSSYDRÚNK men, p talking, headIocks, creampíes, slight exhìbitionìsm (Nanami), pet names, swéaring.

A/N. Anatomy? Don’t know her…

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - 8.96 inches x 5.40 inches

“T-Toji how many more mmm- inches left?”

“Two.”

“Oh-”

“Multiply that by three…h-heh.”

And the lips of your slit are all but bawling as Toji clings a palm onto your hips and tugs you down. No hesitation. No apology for the way he’s not even halfway stuffed, yet already stirring your poor insides completely. 

“If ya can’t handle a big stretch then- hah- don’t talk outta her.” One of his roughened thumbs draws a horizontal line across your puffy core, stretchin’ your folds apart just enough to watch the way his wide, massive length was being devoured by you, sluggishly. 

Half-rutting more n’ more while you shrilled out in needy whines, dazedly wondering whether he even can fit-

“Duh, silly girl.” Oh- did you just say that out loud? With a gruff pant, Toji’s slouching down enough that your hamstrings are screaming. Muttering hoarsely, “M’not Toji Fushiguro if I don’t make it fit, doll.”

He was serious. 

Dead serious.

The only goal his overheated mind had been pondering repeatedly ever since you’d insisted that you could take all of his near-nine tonight. 

Big. Staggering. 

Nestled by breeder balls, his length curved deliciously right, covered in swollen veins and gifted with a plump mushroom tip so fat. Because Toji wasn’t just as red as a strawberry at his crown - he was just as swollen, too- turning into a pretty tannish gradient where his base was kissing your outer pussy. 

And taking his five-inch width was already challenging, but now all he wanted to do was fold you with his beefy arms into the meanest mating press and bump his blushing cockhead against your entrance again and again and again until-

Fuck, it was such a tight fit. 

A stiff set of fingers tilts your chin, snapping you out of your cockdrunk state. “C’mon, girl- no time to tap out. Spread those legs wiiide open n’ take it for me.” 

“L-like this?” You’re whimpering, the sweat coating your fingerpads making them slip and slide underneath the flesh of your thighs. You could be holding yourself as far open as possible and it still wouldn’t be enough for Toji.

“Hmmm, almost.” He’s tittering, dark bangs tickling your forehead when your boyfriend leans dangerously in. He was so big - so muscular. 

So strong that it only takes a single split-second for him to manhandle your trembly legs up n’ over his shoulder, interlocking your ankles behind his damp neck with a singular hand. At his mercy. 

And then Toji’s pushing and pushing with his inhuman reflexes until your ass is damn near hovering off of the silky sheets, cock furiously hot and tugging on the softness of your hole with each pounding throb. 

Hissing, “Aaaatta girl. Now, ya can fit it.”

Slipping one of his particularly proud veins past your inner ring of muscle and slithering it along your ridged sweet spots. “Now you can.” There’s an airy tone to Toji’s voice- almost…gone. Almost higher pitched and cracking as he starts up a vulgar tempo that makes your bedsprings ricket, “Now. Now.”

Toji’s just so damn lengthy that you swear you can almost feel him in your lungs. The globed curve of his tip swabbing past your pussylips and pressin’ deep into every nook and cranny-

“Oh p-please!” Your voice warbles, hips restlessly bucking off of the mattress. Grabbing onto the firm curves of his pecs, making you feel every rippling flex. “So big- so big so big s-so-”

And Toji tuts - tuts, half-lidded jade eyes rolling as he digs his capped knee into the side of your waist to hold you still. Leaning his weight down until you feel the bulge of his v-line scrape your pelvis, “S’all you hafta say?” He tilts his head, a slick line of drool beginning to trickle from the edge of his scarred lips, “M’only…”

Then he’s rovering his rude right hand - callused, somewhat trembling at the heat of your dripping pussy - over your tummy and pressing down, down, down. 

Till the crowned edge of his thumb tap-tap-taps over where you could feel the outline of his spherical mushroom tip lining your walls, about halfway down your front. “-here.”

“S-still?” Breathless, the only thing your mind knows to do now is lurch off of your cushy pillows, slobbering down your chin in a thin glaze at how much he was giving another thrust and splitting you apart. 

“Keh- whaddaya mean ‘still’?” With yet another roll of his eyes, Toji’s rudely slapping your teary cunt with the velvety underside of his shaft, rubbing his dark happy trail all raw on the top of your neglected clit just to hear you whine. “Open those haaaah- pretty fucking legs, lemme fit- just f-four more inches.”

And if you were in any better state of mind you’d be marvelling about the way simply squeezing your gooey wet walls made the infamous, big bad Toji Fushiguro crack. Stutter. 

Gasping, “Take it- come back.” The vice-like hand still restraining your legs drags you down where the recoil of his hips was starting to push against you. Skin reddening near his tufts of unruly black, he titters. “Come back and take it- come back n’ lemme fill you all up- just a few more.”

“A few?” Mewling, his rugged palm racks up the pressure to feel him thick, pummeling cock sliiiide slimily all the way in. “Please-”

“Three- three inches more.” You shiver once the textured ends of his tongue flop outwards and lick up your salty tears, humming like they were the sweetest candy on his tastebuds. “Say it w’me now. Threeee more.”

“Th-three-” Sluuurp goes the way his fat fucking shaft nestles in, wide enough that it rubs against your tiniest fragile orifices. 

“Louder.”

“Three.”

Grunting, Toji’s hiking up his own meaty thighs so that he can arch his sculptured spine further. “Two now.” Words slightly tinging on pussydrunken laughter like he was in disbelief. Sure, you’ve taken him before but never this deep. And the stretch made you so wet that your ass cheeks were sticking to the skin of his v-line like adhesive- “Two- two more n’ we already hafta fuuuuck- change the sheets.”

The knobbled thumb of his right hand reaches down until he’s pryin’ apart your swollen folds with a resounding squelch! Almost knuckle-deep- bucking- just to fit inside. 

“Fuck- two- two!”

Toji blinks like his hazed brain cells had nearly forgotten your conversation just before, nearly as stupefied as you - your eyes whirling cartoonishly, mouth sticky with spit. You feel the friction of his coral pink divot just graze your cervix and it’s incredible.

“One.”

“One- o-one!” 

Then there’s the loudest, rawest, most sinful plop! as Toji finally - finally - bottoms out. Stuffed snugly and sensually from the fringe of his pre-glazed tip to the circumference of his hilt. 

You’re watching through partially-opened eyes in awe, wondering just how he managed to fit inside. Toji was just so damn big that every pulse of his winding veins was making your cunt quiver, girthy enough that your pussylips were stretched out until they were bulging. 

“Heh- keep your eyes open, doll.” He’s gruffing out from above, finally catching his breath. Pushing down on that cute tummy bulge to remind you that he might’ve talked you through it - but this was still Toji. “The fun’s just getting started.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - 10.45 inches x 4.82 inches

Nanami Kento wasn’t just big - he was big. 

The tallest tan length patterned with slight veins, and a wide girth that made your eyes roll back stupidly. He was all topped with a neat mushroom tip that spanks down on your slivery slit and makes you drool. 

Cocktip blushing a shy, pale pink as he streams out a helping of cute pre, grunting from the depths of his hoarse chest. “Shhh, my love. S’only the tip.”

“B-but you’re still so big, Kento.” You’re whining, fingers trembling where you were digging them helplessly onto the sides of his broad shoulders. And you couldn’t even make as much whiny noise as you wanted to because-

“Mr. Nanami, are the documents for the upcoming proposal okay? ”

Speaking into an ongoing early morning meeting on his phone, “I’ve approved them.” You can’t help the way the firm authority in Nanami’s deep bass makes your cunt grow wetter, biting back a moan as you straddle him in his home office chair. “Tell- hah! tell the team all’s well.”

“Thank you- and pardon me, but you sound a little…”

Instantly, Nanami latches a hand to grope your ass cheeks like he didn’t know whether he wants to pull you away or finally put himself out of this damn agony and bottom out. 

Coughing softly, “I-I’m quite alright.”

He was anything but. 

Your husband’s demeanor was caring - hastily muting himself on the call - but his cock was so mean. And that smug lil’ clench of your sopping walls gets you immediately punished with a rapid thrust. 

“Fuh-fuuuuck! Ken—-”

“Talking so loud, darling.” Nanami purrs, forehead sticking to yours. And he runs his frigid wedding band across your clit to listen to the sweet way your pussy sings out a sluuuurp, “N’ so is she.”

Impatiently rutting your hips up n’ down, up n’ down, up n’ down until your pussy coats his shaft with goopy slick at the halfway mark. “Because I want…”

“Aww- feeling left out? D’you want me to finger you, hm?” Swirling his doughy fingerpad in circles that make your gummy cunt spark with white-hot bliss. Snagging just to the side of your softened walls so that he can try and make them bruise.

“J-just a bit- but-”

And he’s just so eager that you can feel his throbbing shaft pound against the roof of your heated core, four-inch girth so fat that gravity was making every bounce of yours lazily choke down his size. “Mhmm– anything- ngh. Anything for you, my wife.”

“I want more–” Your glossy lower lip juts out in a pout and you almost miss the way those very words make your gentle giant of a husband flinch. It makes him pant. 

It makes him look up at you with eyes that are crazed- breathing out in such a strained way, “M-more.”

Nanami Kento’s voice cracks. 

And you can only nod, “More. All of it.”

“All…” Maybe a minute passed, maybe an hour, maybe an eon- before Nanami tugs on the silky yellow of his tie and groans at the tightness. “Brace yourself, my love- this is gonna sting a little.”

Before you can even bat your teary lashes, Nanami has one arm tucked underneath your slick-sheened inner thigh, one more centimeter of his solid length shoveled deep. And one finger dancing over that ‘mute’ button on his phone, “So- what was that about meeting plans?”

“Kento, don’t you dare- oh!”

Only to shut you up with a sensual kiss of his weepy orifice down your pussy, he’s vulgarly stretching out your walls until your legs quake. 

Sturdy office chair creaking at the force of his hips, his eyes are narrowed and predatory as he watches the way your tight hole expands all ‘round his glistening cock. Your elastic entrance bumpin’ into each one of his veiny inches.

Hypnotized. Sounding as dazed as ever as he speaks into the other end of the phone, “Huh? Oh, that- just my dear wife bringing me…” Nanami stares you dead into your adorable heart-eyes as he tucks his fat thumb past your pussylips and drenches himself. Just enough to pop! into his stern mouth- “-breakfast.”

“S-so mean.” You’ve never seen your husband talk like this, and you’ve never taken his long, ten-inch cock without hours n’ hours of preparation.

But right now, more than anything, you were…hungry.

And slobber drips down the edge of your chin when you throw your head back and impale yourself deeper on his cock. Shrilly whimpering, “Don’t know if I can-”

“Of course you can.” He interrupts in a booming voice, and for a second you don’t know whether he’s talking to you or his coworker on the phone. Only realizing once, with a hasty apology- “My wife needs ah- help with something.” Nanami’s tugging your bitten lips apart and poking his fingers inside. 

Making you suck. Making you bite.

“A real gentleman- aren’t you, Mr. Nanami?”

“Mhm- gotta help out the hah- lady whenever I can.” He’s cooing at you. Phone now balanced comfily between his shoulder and his ear, Nanami’s tilting his head and boring down at you with such a sleazy, drunken grin. “Fuckin’ loooove helping my wife- oh, excuse my language.” 

Oh god, he was getting so drunk. Tugging on your clit with one hand, and the other was holding you rigidly still so you can’t escape while he was sliiiiiding his cock inside with a sloppy drag. 

Your teary eyes wandering to the back of your head, “W-will it-”

“It will.” Caressing the rovering ends of his two digits until you make the cutest gagging noises, he recites underneath his breath. “It has to.” Muted. Just for you to hear. “Inhale slowly- through your nose. Relax that pretty pussy f’me.” 

“L-like this?”

“Slower.” Hiking a meaty thigh up once you sloppily follow along, “Keep your chest still- relax.” He hisses as the globes of your ass start to kiss his toned lap, damn near eleven plump inches being tunneled into you. “Exhale slowly. Again.” Head snapping between your half-lidded expression and below, “Again. Take it- fuck fuck fuck- take it.”

Curving the slightly left-leaning point of his tip to slither across your walls and skim your g-spot, and you can’t even move- you can’t even thrash around like you wanted to because Nanami’s pinning you down. 

“Yeah- yeah m’here. I’m here and- and sooo fucking hard for you.” He’s swearing underneath his breath once he hits the back of your dewy pussy with a pap! of his large, swollen balls. “And so- fucking- big.” 

When Nanami bottoms out it’s with a precise strike to your spongy cervix, so hard that your very bones seem to rattle upon impact. 

And fuck- was it just as powerful for Nanami who holds his shaken breath and slouches till his glasses almost slide cleanly off, and stares at the bulging folds of your pussy all webbed with his pre, and doesn’t even realize that the phonecall had unmuted-

“Now now…” Higuruma’s raspy voice sounds out on speaker phone. “How about you n’ your lovely wife get this meeting on video call, Nanami? Maybe I can ah- help, too.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - 9.18 inches x 4.58 inches

Thwack! The glittery ends of Geto’s long, pale fingers are just drenched in all your sap and slick and he doesn’t think he’s ever smiled harder. 

Tutting, with his head bent just low enough that his inky, curtaining locks trace your arched spine. “Yeahhh- she’s not fucking fittin’ me again- heh.” Snickering once just the slightest gyration of his bulging tip sends a torrent of cum from before dripping out of your pussy, “She agrees with me, too, gorgeous.”

“I feel so full.” You’re whining as your leader simply pulls you back and pliably rests a foot on your head. Geto Suguru already had you for hours, yet he wasn’t letting you go for a looong time.

And he wasn’t going anywhere without his reddened, gleaming tip emptying out yet another wave of milky precum inside of you. Watching as the sleek white coating glosses over your pussylips- his hazy gaze snaps from your cunt. To you. And back- “On second thought…”

“O-ohhh my god- ngh-”

“-why don’tcha take all of me again?”

You can’t help the way that your arms claw on the damp futon and try to drag your trembling body forwards - because Geto was just so big and trying to push himself deeper. 

He was just as pretty as his long, flushed pink cock was. Balls delicate, shaft road and wide- with a singular strawberry pink vein that mazed along so sinfully. 

You’re feeling the tender slit underneath his sparkly tip rub your insides raw. A few more solid inches of him throbbing behind, aching to just push you down and stuff you-

But he was feeling nice today. 

“Ah ah- no running.” You damn near scream once he’s saddling the curves of his toned thighs behind your own, snug n’ warm. It’d almost be gentle if it wasn’t for the way that Geto was pinning you down to keep your restless hips in place, “Look at you drool. You’re already crying f’me from both ends?”

So cute- it was just too cute how you’re slurring from your hole just as much as your ajar maw. 

And with another repeated swat to your teary slope, Geto tucks his bulbous head in place with your g-spot and watches you whine. Grunting, “Heh- wonder how much of a messy girl she’ll ngh- become when I put- my-” Vulgarly thrusting, so messy. “-entire cock in. Wouldn’t that be niiiice, gorgeous?”

He’s asking you questions that right now you were too fucked stupid to answer. Only able to nod and nod into the goopy puddle of spit you were leaking onto your pillow, “Yes- y-yeshh-”

“‘Yesh?’” 

“I-I mean-”

Smoothly drifting a hand between your legs to squeeze your perky clit and make you let off a breathy cry. “Shhh- no need to waste your time hah- talking.” He’s immediately bringing up those very same cum-covered fingers to plop into your mouth, wetly, “Mmmm- tastes good, huh? Now you’re both stuffed.”

The flavor of salted caramel bursts onto your tastebuds and makes your folds quiver, stubbornly milking out even more of his creamy syrup. Clenching. Squeezing. 

“Oh fuh-fuck.”

Your eyes snap open, words all groggy and muffled through his roaming fingerpads inside of your mouth. “Sugu, did you just-”

Pushing his foot deeper- “No- shut up.” Geto didn’t even know why his suave voice was shaking so much, he doesn’t even know why he underestimated just how needy his girl could get. Because when he wanted to fit his entire swollen, pumping cock in- it was a half-joke. Really. “M’okay- t-tooootally okay.”

He didn’t think your thoroughly filled, sploshing pussy would still be craving for his touch oh-so-deep inside. And he’s watching - spellbound, breathless - down at the way your pried-apart pussylips drool once you’re grinding down to devour his 4.5-inch width some more. 

And Geto wasn’t a small guy - he was fucking big. Well over nine inches and pulsing from the sides with his prominent veins that scraped your slick insides just right, “Dity fuckin’ girl. If this tight hole hngh- wants it then just say it.”

“Wan’ it– please mmm m’so close.”

“Mhm- just like that.” Nodding along, and for a second Geto himself doesn’t know whether he’s talking to those pretty wailing whimpers of yours or of your pussy. Biting back wads of greedy saliva at the slurps sounding from below, “Tell me- tell me. S’not like th-this tight fucking cunt is affecting me like that. Not like I’m dying to…thrust.”

Mindless, half-measured bucks that wildly probe into your deepest, most tender spots. He’s even letting his free hand toy with the pearly droplets of syrup seeping out of you just to make space. 

And Geto just keeps babbling on- “Not like I wanna always ngh- bend you over and ruin this pretty pussy.” He feels you getting wetter and in response pokes his muffling fingers into your hot mouth further- almost dragging you backwards after each recoil. “Not like I wanna fuck this hole until she’s all bruised f’me- fuck! She’s actually taking me.” Eyes wild, hips wilder. “She’s actually fitting me.”

“P-please! You’re in shoooo deep, Suguru- I’m gonna-” At this point you think you could feel him pushing his previous scorching, gluey webs of cum straight up to your throat. 

And you could feel yourself cum.

White-hot, toes curling, eyes darting all the way to the back of your head until Geto could only hiss at the snug embrace of your pussy keeping him hostage. Fighting against the slight resistance-

“Not deep enough.”

Just in time, he snaps his feet off of your clammy scalp - for just a split-second, letting all the pounding blood rise to your head - before gathering you up in a raw, lecherous headlock. Tightening your throat with his beefy arm, you drool all over his forearm at the feeling of those natural muscles. 

“Not like I always want you to fit- hah- aaall of it, gorgeous.” With a hot pant all feverish against your ear, and the sound of Geto’s baritone cracking, he’s snapping his hips so hard that he bottoms out.

You cry out at the tingles of your orgasm still coursing through your veins, completely at his mercy. “B-but you already ngh- did.”

“Oh…” Taking one look down at the way the globes of your ass were all nestled up to his raven happy trail, Geto gasps. Feverish. “Maybe I do.”

You were full. 

So full that your soft, battered walls barely even had the space to clamp down once Geto swiftly turns the two of you over onto your backs in one, fluid motion. Easily dragging your boneless limbs into a full nelson-

“I-it’s actually in.” He stutters - stutters. Amethyst eyes widening, mouth sagging into a pretty oh! “All the way in- she actually fucking fit all of it, gorgeous.”

Thighs still twitching from your high, you slur, “N-ngh dunno if I’d be able to fit any more—”

“Awww.” Swiping away that bubble of spittle formulating at the edge of your lips, Geto thrusts his hips up so hard that your vision cracks with stars. Low, smooth in your ear- “But maybe you’ll fit my tentacle curse, gorgeous—”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - 8.30 inches x 3.99 inches

“O-oh!” You’re squeaking out in a way you’d certainly be embarrassed about if it was any moment but now. Head snapping down to where you were straddling Choso’s slim hips, “You just got even bigger, Cho—”

Fuck- fuck, why did you have to say it like that?

Because of course, that was going to make Choso Kamo’s ancient cursed powers go out of control all over again. Of course, every ounce of blood in his body was going to rush to his long, blushing cock - now more than rock-hard.

And Choso was already massively big. 

Well over eight inches and throbbing furiously, his mushroomy tip always blushed the prettiest cherry-red. A few aching curves of his veins pressing down your puffy outer pussy, and his width was just perfect - not too wide, not too thin. Slipping n’ sliding inside, letting the geysering hole on top of his shaft dollop your cunt with creamy pre. 

But his first time with you raw? Actually feeling the gushing waves of your slick splashin’ down his veiny cock had him rabid. Gasping, “Am I really that…big, baby?”

“Hmm—” Quite frankly you weren’t sure, and you were too damn stupid on the stretch of his prolonged cock to even think. Leaning down teasingly, “It’s very big, Choso.”

“B-but not too big, right?”

Cute bubblegum lips wobbling, Choso wraps his toned arms around your hips and gets you to grind out a pummeling bounce. Letting the globular curve of it whack against your dewy wet walls and watching as you drool, “You can fit it, right? Right?”

Your cunt lets off a resounding squeeelch as you start giving in to his tempo and gyrating your own. And Choso’s staggering length meant that he was gluing his scorching hot crown to your deepest insides without even trying. 

You’re pretending to think, “Hmmmm, I dunno—”

“N-no-” He’s hiccuping, chestnut lashes starting to gleam with tears. “Nononono- you don’t hafta do any of the ngh- work, baby— I’ll make it fit.”

So panicked. So sloppy that each one of his rugged trusts was hitting every nook and cranny of your dripping pussy, once near the splotchy area of your g-spot, another near the roof of your cunt. Mazing down the tip-top of his pink shaft like a spotlight. 

“Will you–?” You purr, “Promise?”

“Promise- promise promise.” And his hands rest upon either side of your waist to keep pulling you up n’ down with his inhuman strength. Softly whining when that meant he didn’t have a hand left to pull your face into a kiss- you give him one anyway.

The plush, puckered contact of your lips was enough to make him jolt like he’d just been electrified. Choso groans into your mouth and furrows his brows in desperation, “I-is it fitting, baby?”

And one look- one look is enough for him to throw his head back into the silken pillowcase with his dark eyes whirling. Dizzy. Hypnotized. Just covered in cursed energy that makes him pulse bigger-

“It is-”

“Mhm– it is.”

“Look. She’s actually taking in all of me–!” All of him, Choso doesn’t think he’s ever let his fat cock roam this far into your innards before. Chin hitting his pecs in haste to take a further look, “She’s really sucking me up and ah- I’m not ngh- ungrateful, baby, but…I she neeeeed her to take it…all.”

He’s blushing and red-hot by the time he’s admitting this out loud.

By now there’s only a few more of his solid inches left, and you’re leaning behind you to grab a fistful of his tight balls- oh-so-sensitive. Rolling the mountains of his palm over where he was most delicate, “All, huh?”

Who knew that would only make your sweet, ruined boyfriend arch his toned hips and rut- “Yes-” The planes of his cheeks fluttering with beaded tears, “”Yes, please- don’t close out.” 

And just having you clench around him was keeping him shackled to your pert, pretty pussy. Urgently slamming his toned v-line up into yours in an attempt to keep bullying himself inside, he’d never felt this before- having you squeeze him snugly like this. The moment you start pushing him with your velvety slick walls made him only hold you close and push and push and push–

“D-don’t close this pretty pussy-” His free hand tugs on the sappy ends of your outer pussy, tuggin’ just so that his veiny cock finds its way inside. Pouting, he lets his reverse cursed energy run wiiild- “Let me put…it in…”

With your fingers carnally itching the skin of his ball sack, you hum—“You are, baby—”

“Heh- y-you called me baby.” He’s giggling to himself, the apples of his cheekbones turning bright red. He’s mesmerized - he’s dazed at the slight figure-eights you’re drawing out with your hips to fit him inside. And the moment the fat of your ass cheeks hits his hip bones with a loud slap! oh- “You…inside.”

Inside.

Inside.

And he’s cumming just as far deep, too. 

The moment he’s all bottomed out, Choso’s voice hitches with a cracked whine once he’s spurting out a steady jetstream of syrupy white. Letting the honeyed droplets of it cling onto the sides of your goopy cunt- and he’s so embarrassed.

Fuck, he’s so embarrassed at the fact that he’s cumming so early.

But he can’t stop that primal urge within him that keeps bouncing his capped knees, sticking the globes of your ass against his meaty thighs with a layer of sheeny cum. You’d really, really managed to fit all of him - all his hot, ridged inches that tugged on the sides of your damp walls. Hitting your cervix dead-on.

“You took all of it-” He’s breathing out, raspy. Scalding hot seed dripping down your slit and rubbing all over your clit, “All- all. So this is what it feels like, I’m really inside, I’m really ngh- fucking you all the way.”

“Y-yes you are.” You have to fight to answer, the thrash of his split-ended shaft scouring across your walls until you were speechless. Mouth watering. Vision flashing. You brush your fingers through the strands of his bangs, “Happy, Cho?”

Purring up at you, “Of course, baby— B-but now that I’m inside can we try…” Half-lidded eyes almost trying to look away, almost shy. But the way he gives you a thrust to slosh around his stringy wads of cum says otherwise, “-a mating press?”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - 13.3 inches x 6.04 inches (each)

“K-Kuna—”

“B-b-brat.” It’s just so cute how that snarling grin he gives you is enough to make you bristle, as if you weren’t all sprawled out on the King’s lap and speared by one of his fat, thirteen-inch cocks. Both of his smug mouths snickering your way, “What? Whining n’ crying for two when ya can’t even take one. Humans always are so ambitious.”

And you? You were more than ambitious.

You’re just downright stuffed with the plump, honed crown of one of Sukuna’s lengths that it was stirring up whatever’s left of your brain cells. The weepy orifice of his tip swirlin’ a ribbon of milky pre as you squirm, and for the first time, you wanted more. “I wanna take both but I dunno if it’ll fit, Kuna.”

“Awww, my poor baby doesn’t know if it’ll heh- fit?” He’s cooing at you mockingly from above, one of Sukuna’s four hands nestling at your hips to give you a lil’ bounce. “Then I guess as king I hafta help with that, hm?”

“Yes- yes please-”

“Ah ah- but first…a kiss.”

Almost shocked at the plump pucker of his fanged lips, you slouch over where you were straddling his muscular waist. Him, all sprawled out on his gilded throne- and you, struggling to plant a kiss.

“There-” You murmur against his warm lips, a pout adjusting on your gaping maw as you wait expectantly. 

But he only grins, knees hiking up to swat your ass with repeated grinds. “And here, too. Kiss me proper now.”

There.

He doesn’t even have to wait for the lecherous request to register inside your melty mind before his impatient, monstrous second mouth is unhinging ajar and saaaalivating all across your teary slit. The curled tendril of his pink tongue was just tickling where your hole was bulged, “Keh- humans are so easily embarrassed.” Two of his beefy arms glue to your sheeny inner thighs and streeetch you wide open, “Open up for ‘Kuna’, brat.”

Twisting your head down to watch- you don’t even know what your glassy eyes search for first.

The way that second, matching hard cock of his was bobbing with desperation or the way that his cursed mouth was greedy and salivating with every flick up the front of your hot core. Drooling, spitting, lapping up ounces of sap like it was sugar water- 

“Ya can take that-” Another fat splosh of spittle, disappearing between your pussylips. “-ya can take me then.”

“Want it- want-” Huffing stubbornly, “Can handle both I ngh- promise.”

How cute…

Sukuna really can’t stop the way he departs a darkened bout of laughter, head tilted. “Why don’tcha suck this one up for me and ngh- prove it then.” And before you know it, he’s clawing his last hand down on your sweaty scalp and pushing down, down, down– “Bottoms up- or, more like bottom out.”

Fuck- you weren’t even given the split-second to snap at him for his silly lil’ joke at your expense, because the sheer stretch just had you so damn delirious. 

And claiming that Sukuna was big was an understatement - well above thirteen inches, each. Both of his long, vertically-stacked cocks were so swollen and ready to be inside of you that they looked like they were about to explode. 

Right from the slightly red edge of his bulging tips, to the circumference of his bases, all covered with a spattering of pink veins. Massive- and so was his pair of hard, tannish breeder balls, twitching with your every movement. 

He was only about halfway in and the sleek ribbons of Sukuna’s precum were already hitting your thighs in splashes-

“Oi oi- don’t tell me yer too cockdrunk now.” His hips shift as he starts up a vulgar pace, hitting the back of your cervix with his pointed crownhead and he still wasn’t bottomed out. You wouldn’t be surprised if he would be hitting your damn throat soon. Grunting, “Take it. C’mon, little human.”

Sukuna was so wide that just a singular one of his girths had your mouth falling into the same ogling oh! “I-I am.”

“Heeeeh? How cute.” Darkish nails leave tiny bruises along your waist, lightly angling your tempo so that the zig-zagged line of one of his prominent veins hits your most favorite spots. “Faster now.”

Harder. Sloppier. 

And you almost can’t, just so heady and stupid on the thump-thump-thump of his rounded globe squishing up your insides. So he can only lean backwards sexily and buck his waist further-

“Faster, brat, if you want mmm- both my cocks.”

Thighs trembling, lips wobbly, “B-but…”

“Aw, guess you forgot-” Mockingly, Sukuna’s stern lips fall into a tiny pout. And in the blink of an eye, where the edge of his tastebuds were slimily running down your folds, he’d suddenly replaced it with the smooth fringe of his second cock. “Seeee?” Rubbin’ it up n’ down in a way that was so sultry, “Wanna taste?”

Soon enough, you’re slobbering all down the cushions of his pecs. The utter raw stretch of it too much that his tensed front was covered in a shiny lacquer of your saliva, “I-I want…both.”

Ah, he’d never fucking admit it, but it was so endearing how hungry you were for his cocks. “Course ya do- you can take it.” The only thing driveling and greedier than you was that pretty pussy, “Faster.”

Just a few inches- just a few more inches more that Sukuna was helping you devour. 

Well- teasing, “Harder, unless you don’t wan’ me ngh- hitting- here-” The sharp points of his fingernails tickle your tummy, right where the bumpy cylinder of his bulge was whacking. Right above your cervix. Your womb. “Twice.”

“Ohhh- mmm- ngh, there, Kuna.”

“God, she loves it like this, huh?” And it seems like both him and his other mouth cackle. Twin cock diamond-hard now, and just starting to snugly fit and inch in with a sluuuurp. “Can feel- hah- feel your womb, she’s begging for my seed, brat. Twice.”

You’re sobbing at this point, and his shiny tastebuds were lapping your tears up like candy. “Twice- p-please twice.”

Twice. 

Twice twice twice- and it was driving Sukuna fucking wiiiild. The clench of your squirming thighs pushing his rummaging shafts together was insane, and that’s exactly what he blames for the way he grumbles out drunkenly- “Wanna give me an heir that badly- do you?”

“I-I do.”

Talking out of your cunt, for sure. Talking out of your oversatured mind, obviously. 

But fuck- Ryomen Sukuna can’t stop himself from blurting out a low- “I love you.” And then a hissed pant of your name as he jumbles up your memory of that little confession with the entrance of his second cock, as well. 

Dually splitting you open, you were so impaled on his throbbing girths that you almost miss the way he grins- “And now…” Slapping your slippery slit with the silken underside of his tongue, “S’my turn to have some fun.”

The way he whimpers.

♡ INO TAKUMA - 7.69 inches x 4.50 inches

“Big stretch- can you say that f’me, pretty? Biiig stretch?”

It was just so cute how your boyfriend’s cheeks were all innocent pink while he whispered the dirtiest questions in your ear. Rosy lips wobbling at just the sound of your pretty voice, “Mmm– it’s a very biiig stretch, Taku.”

“Well…n-not that big.” He can’t help but stutter out shyly, fighting the urge to dig his fingers into the strands of his chestnut bangs and pull down his ski mask still on. Hastily rutting, “You can still ngh- fit all of it, right, sweetness? Please?”

And shit- Ino might be the sweetest, but his cock was built so fucking mean.

He was a long seven inches and more, with two throbbing veins that ran down the side of his shaft and carved right along the tender spots of your walls. All flushed the same cherry-pink that his clammy, blushing cheeks were. And so fucking fat that your puffy core was having trouble keeping up with the rub-a-dub of his girth. 

Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth while he’s planting half-ruts and grinds just to fit himself inside-

“Sweetness?”

“O-ohhh ngh-” You’re snapped back into your lewd reality the moment Ino’s impatiently dragging down your body with a hand at your throat. Dangerous. With the pierced edge of his mushroomy tip - that cold, sinful Prince Albert’s piercing - whacking your g-spot with a wet plop! “So good- so big, fuck!”

And maybe it was a blessing in disguise that the useless lil’ rubber of your condom had snagged the moment his pierced cockhead caught on it. 

Because right now your gushing wet cunt was clenching around him to hold him hostage, and it was rendering Ino so damn pussydrunk that he was drooling. “M-maybe it’ll be easier in missionary, pretty-”

Times like this, you’re reminded just how much training your boyfriend has undergone. Because- before you know it- before you can even blink, Ino has his hands flying to bend your trembling thighs ‘round his slender waist. 

Pliably pushed up until the caps of your knees hit your tits, until your scalp’s throwing back with a keen–“Mmm- feel so good- keep going, Taku–”

“Keep going.” He’s whispering to himself, eyes wide and barely blinking like he’s not even sure whether or not this was one of his wettest dreams. Here he had you all sprawled out and raw, letting off the cutest syrupy squelch! the moment he positions his bulging cockhead deeper and gives a little rut. “Keep- keep going.”

Whimpering, soon enough he can’t even handle the way that every driving force of his hips leaves your poor body recoiling. 

Can’t handle the graze of your warm, wet walls making him feel like he was pulling out - the last thing he ever fucking wanted to do - and so he has to tighten his restraint on your neck and draaaag you back down after every jackammer just to keep himself sane. 

“See? See?” His rugged whisper scorches your ear, Ino’s eyes half-lidded and wild. He squeezes your throat and snaps his hips down until the pale skin of his pelvis turns red, “S’not that big- nghhh, I can fit. C-can tooootally fit.”

Smugly batting your lashes- you were ruining him. “Yeah? Almost there?”

“Just like three or four more inches-” He groans, taking a sneaking glimpse at the rubbery resistance downwards. And his balls were delicate and flinching sensitively at every contact with your skin, “Just gotta get through this- ngh- tight fucking hole. That way I’ll fit.”

“And if you don-”

Cutting you off in panic, “Don’t even say s-such a haaah- thing.” He’s brushing his knobbly thumb along the base of your treacly pussy and watching in amazement as you open up even deeper for him with a sluuuurp. The excited throb of his shaft digging just against your most tender geysering orifices-

Ino’s making such a mess, such slippery wads of slick streaming between your folds and glistening in a ring across his base. He almost wants to pull down his dark black ski mask just so he won’t cum from the sight. 

Harder, sloppier. 

Not only was his cock pretty, it was so thick and probin’ along your every wet-sheened ridge and crevice. Making you scream just as much as your pussy was giving off slurping squelches!

You’re clawing down the veined expanse of his forearms, “S-so rough, Taku-”

“Oh- sorr-”

“I love it.”

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

That was more than enough for him, and before you know it - before even he knows it - he’s bucking with a mindless half-thrust that lets him bottom out. Rapid. Hard. Feral. That lets him cum. 

Letting him crater the door to your womb with his orbed piercing, with a wide circular circumference that bruises you in while he stuffs you with white syrup.

The creamiest webs of seed overspill, and Ino can’t do anything but gape as his free hand moves before his mind to rover his fingers across your glossy entrance and push those hot springs in-

“Fuck- fuck. And I love you-” Setting your rapidly pulsing neck free to haul his eyesight partially closed by his mask. “This is what it feels like- this? H-how can it feel so…”

And you don’t even know how you manage to speak beyond the sparking fuzziness filling up your brain at the splosh of cum coating your innards like a glaze. Dripping just down the sides of your gluey-stuck thighs, “Awww- shy, Taku?”

He doesn’t answer- but his hips do all the talking.

Fucking the knots of cum in with rough, rugged drives that drench his tawny happy trial, Ino whimpers once you’re tugging his mask up and forcing him to look at you in all your fucked-out glory. Shit- so perfect n’ pretty that some primal part of him just has to mess it up by pulling out just the slightest few solid inches. 

Creaming out opaque white layers upon layers of sap, Ino lets his pinkish shaft slap-slap-slap down on the puddle and hums. Eyes drunk, skin flushed, big fucking cock oh-so-painfully hard. And if he dares to let his plummy mushroom tip pull out and write out a cursive white T-A-K-U, well—“S-so…am I getting pregnant or are you, sweetness?”

♡ GOJO SATORU - 11.02 inches x 4.28 inches

“You’ve got it, you’ve ngh- got it-”

“Fuh-fuuuck, Satoru. But it’s so big-”

“You’ve got it.”

It’s been the exact same thing being repeated in panting moans over and over into the side of your ear. And Gojo can’t fucking stop that strained, broken mantra from leaving his lips every time he’s pushing you deeper into this mating press, and his cock deeper into you.

Fuck- you should’ve expected that the strongest would have a fat fucking length to match. 

The only thing ruder than the way he was constantly pounding you into the soft, silken sheets was his size. Over eleven inches, according to him, the edge of his rose-red cocktip brushes all the way near your spongy cervix without even trying.

And he was oh-so-pretty, like every delicate vein running down the middle of his pinkish shaft was hand-carved to hit your every sweet spot. 

Ridged, lightning bolted texture of his shaft making you see stars- you’re feeling Gojo’s swollen breeder balls brush against your thigh every time he knocks his ringed slit at the gooey roof of your pussy and just simply rubs it there, sensually. 

“Getting sooo fucking wet-” He’s hissing into your open mouth, the tips of his gleaming white canines snagging against your lower lip as he smiles. “H-heh- you got it. You got it. Aaaalmost there, almost-”

“But there’s so much more, ngh- why are you this big?” You’re whimpering, the flats of your feet pushing against Gojo’s shoulders. And fuuuck- does he love the chase. Does he love that feeling of watching your boneless limbs flail when he’s folding you back in half with almost inhuman strength.

The doughy edges of his fingers itching for his black blindfold beside your night stand- “Hey now, sweetheart.” 

And it takes two of your heady breaths - less than two seconds - for Gojo to curl the silky fabric of his blindfold around your ankles. To tie them together and firmly set them on his muscular back, “You wanted to see how the strongest hah- fucks. You’re gonna get it. And…heh-” Your dear boyfriend has the audacity to giggle - giggle downwards at the way his reddened cock was being devoured by your puffy core. “-wouldn’t you wanna take allll of the strongest, sweetheart? Pretty girl? My wife?”

“I get it I- fuck!” Breath catching when he’s hiking his pale thigh up to shovel yet another solid inch inside, pryin’ your bubblegum walls to the side with his bulbous tip. “J-just shut up.”

Who knew that would make him give you the first shred of mercy he’s shown in what felt like hours now. 

Making him falter for a split-second, making him gasp. Making him blush- whispering out something airy, “Th-that almost made me cum.”

And shit- Gojo Satoru could not let himself cum before you did, no matter how much it felt like heaven was between your legs n’ you were just melting all around his size. Before he even knows what he’s doing, he’s letting his gaze coat with a few flickers of cursed energy. 

Six Eyes on full throttle once he splays his massive palm on top of your cute tummy, “I’m still riiiiight-” The edge of his finger sizzles with power as he draws an invisible line, precisely where his blushing red crown was cratering a massive bruise inside of your tight cunt. Grinning, he taps- “-here. Got my fat fuckin’ cock right here.”

Mewling, your knees weaken once he’s reeling his slender hips back just enough to whack three repeated hits on that impromptu target he’d made. Fully well knowing it was inches from your g-spot.

“Fuck- just a bit higher, Toru–”

“Oh, sweetheart—” His half-lidded irises are so dilated that they almost look like hearts, lips twitched into a wobbly smile while he fucks you like he’s furious. “You’ve got six more inches to go- ngh! five.”

And shit- you can’t help the way you overtly ogle the flex of his toned biceps as he sexily reaches behind him. One set of fingers clenching ‘round that vice-like blindfold at your ankles to pull-pull-puuuull you down, the other buzzing with jujutsu and creepin’ to your clit to pinch.

He wouldn’t fit otherwise, bullying his way inside. 

“H-heh…four now.”

Manhandling you, he was so strong that he’s making you feel like some sort of doll. Sending your ass cheeks ricocheting with every sopping wet spank of his pelvis, “Shit- you’re going in so deep-”

“Mhm- right down to your cute ngh- womb.” He could follow every slimy, mazing trail of his bulging shaft with his very own eyes. Snickering as he makes sure to graze the curling tendril of his veins right along your g-spot, “You like that- huh? Feels good?”

“Yes- mmm feels so good.”

Smooth voice purring in your ear, just the sound of it makes your skin bubble with goosebumps. “Imagine how good it’ll feel when I’m all inside. Just threeee more inches to go- two.” 

Close. 

Eleven inches was a lot to handle, and your poor dripping cunt felt like you were being stretched out to the max. You didn’t know whether it was his out-of-control reverse cursed technique or pure carnal desire that made you have the strength to start rutting down for more more more-

“Ohhh— what’s this?” Gojo raises his snowy brows and matches your sloppy tempo, scratchin’ his fuzzy white hair near the top of your clit every time he flicks it. “My girl wants more? Wants all eleven inches- s’a thick fucking cock, sweetheart—”

That was an understatement. 

With over four inches of meaty plumpness, he was so wiiide with his girth that you’re sure you’re molding to his exact size. The entrance to your pussy quivering after every thrust, fast. Rapid. Mindless thrusts. 

You’re gurgling out your answers, unable to even speak at that point. “I know I know-” Mouth still falling into a spit-slicked smile as he shows no signs of slowing down. Blinking tearily, “Still wan’ it all.”

And then it happens - all at once. 

The lights in your bedroom shatter- and then, so do you. Because with a longing, lingering glide of Gojo’s barreling length vertically across your g-spot and down to your cervix, you’re cumming. 

Mouth ajar, eyes scrunched close. Your own wave of bliss catches you so off-guard that you can do nothing but hold onto his Adonis-like shoulders for dear life and shrill–“Cum—ing. Fuck fuck fuck- cumming, Satoru-”

“I know-” And he sounds just as gone as you at this moment. “I saw it.” With his Six Eyes, even before you reached your high.

Not even realizing that the electricity had been destroyed in your bedroom - in the entirety of Tokyo, actually - not even realizing you two were plunged into complete darkness except for the bolts of blue lightning skittering down his skin. Setting his eyes aglow, air tightened. 

Gojo groans—“And you f-fit all of me-” It took even him a few sultry seconds to register that he’d finally bottomed out. 

Slapping and slapping the tender skin of his v-line right into the drenched space of your open thighs until he’s rubbed raw. Gojo was all inside and yet still trying to push himself even deeper, chasing the warmth of your dewy cunt- he bites back a whimper. “All of me- and it feels so…oh, I could just- fuck!”

One teensy clench of your sweet, saccharine walls. 

All it takes before the strongest throws his head back and cums- timing each swat! of his thwacking balls right on staccato with your own peaks. It made him tilt his head down and giggle at the way your mouth only sagged open wider once you felt the sheer volume he was emptying out. 

“You’ve got it-” He gasps into your popped eardrums, touch electric. The soft thumb rolling over your clit swiftly decides to crawl down n’ start plugging your drooling orifice with his wads of white. “You’ve hah- got it. You’ve got it- you’ve got it. Isn’t this the ngh- biiiigest fucking cock you’ve ever seen–?”

“F-fuck, Toru- yes! But what are you…” Briefly, the hand looped around your ankles claws at your clammy crown and moves your head to stupidly nod. 

All the while, Gojo’s simply stirrin’ his shaft in circular motions inside of your velvety walls to touch every nook and cranny with his creamy cum. Teasingly announcing, “Oh yes it is- yes it is–”

Looking almost satisfied with the way you’re all fucked out and still shaking prettily from the ordeal- that is, at least, before a sudden idea glints behind his half-lidded sapphire eyes. 

“I wonder if it’ll be- heh- even bigger if I use limitless, sweetheart”

“…”

A/N. I thought I was soooo funny for that title.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[luvkimi]

satoru gojo—the strongest sorcerer—is an absolute softie when it comes to his wife.

the man could kill everyone in japan if he wanted to, yet when you're around, he's as dangerous as a kitten.

and that confused everyone around him.

how was it that even a murmur of your name would make the famous gojo gush and drop everything to talk about you? he could be in the midst of fighting a curse, but if his phone buzzes and your name is on the screen? that curse might as well accept its fate or be prepared for him to be on call with you for the remainder of the fight.

"toru, are you busy?" "not at all, baby—" his words would be cut off as the curse he was fighting attempted to land a hit on him, and the call would only fill with the sound of crashes before you realized what was happening. "are you seriously in the middle of a mission!?" your question remained unanswered for a second before you heard satoru laugh, "i mean, i was, but did you need something? money? sweets? a photo of your handsome husband?" "SATORU!"

it's clear to everyone that gojo is in love with you. he wouldn't just take a bullet for you, but rather a whole nuclear bomb if needed. he's willing to risk everything for you—even his job.

if he's in a meeting and you call him, he's picking up the phone no matter how many dirty looks he gets. what are they going to do about it? he's the strongest, but with the way he acts around you, you'd think otherwise.

his students have noted that every time you come into his classroom, he'd grin like a high schooler in love. he practically has heart eyes that you can see through his blindfold.

"gojo-sensei?" yuji's voice rang out in the classroom, "yes, yuji?" gojo's tone was filled with boredom as the man was leaning back in his chair—feet on top of his desk while he lifted a finger to pull back his blindfold. yuji was seen with megumi and nobara, and all three of them were pointing at the door. where you, his lovely wife, stood with a bento box. "you forgot your lunch—" "MY WIFE!" the sound of gojo's chair hitting the floor echoed as you took a step back from the doorframe, yet your attempt to move out of the way was pointless as gojo barreled toward you with open arms. his arms wrapped around you in a tight hug, and you let out a quiet sigh as you held the bento box up. "is my beautiful wife here to visit her husband?" "i'm here to give you your lunch, toru." "MY BEAUTIFUL WIFE LOVES ME ENOUGH TO COME VISIT ME!" while gojo continued to ramble with you still in his arms, the three students watched the scene with narrowed eyes. "do you think she ever gets tired of him?" nobara asked bluntly, and yuji only shrugged. they continued to watch as gojo only hugged you tighter, and a soft smile appeared on your face as he continued to talk. "i don't think so..." yuji mumbled before turning his attention back to his phone, and the others did the same thing. except for gojo. because his attention was on you and you only.

comments & reblogs are always appreciated !!

[fromdove]

seeing my man with his canonical love interest 💔💔💔💔

[deathofacupid]

★ STRAWBERRIES AND CIGARETTES. all the times gojo desperately wants to kiss you, and the one where he finally does.

ft. satoru gojo x reader.

warnings — loser!reader / popular!gojo. smoking, kissing + making out. consumption of alcohol, mentions of sex, lots of cheesy banter. sato is a man down bad ! slow-burn kinda but mostly just very sfw fluff :p

(呪術廻戦) : note — 7k words + in my fluff era again awooga

୨୧ ⌞ act one: strawberry shampoo. ⌝

gojo rarely sees you. not often, truly. in class is different, but even then, it's infrequent.

you always wear a bored, distant look, as if you'd rather be anywhere but here. he suspects you simply don't care. the professor's words wash over you, in one ear and out the other.

most people don't notice your frequent absences. gojo does. he always does. the empty seat at the back of the room never escapes his eye.

it feels emptier, too, despite your quiet nature. he's unsure why. why he's so captivated by you. but when you are present, he stares. trying to be subtle, yet desperate to memorize every detail: the curve of your lashes, the perceived softness of your lips.

perceived softness, he should clarify. gojo isn't a creep. he doesn't spend every waking moment fantasizing about kissing you. (only every other waking moment.)

he knows you know he exists. you've exchanged words a few times, straddling the line between acquaintance and stranger. it's odd, but he finds a strange peace when you converse.

you're funny, kind, caring. a good listener, with a voice like honey he could listen to all day. god, he loves your voice. he wishes you'd speak more. if you did, people would listen. there's a lilt in your voice that makes him.

he's your opposite. you keep to yourself, wired earbuds always in. gojo has friends — many friends. he thrives on company and conversation.

he's got his whole crew: nanami, shoko, geto, haibara, utahime. even toji and sukuna, on a good day.

academically, he's a powerhouse. top of the class, loaded with extracurriculars, tests always returned with a perfect score.

and you? you're number two. he's certain you could be first, but you simply don't care. no ambition to be the best, no need to prove yourself.

you're just… there. you show up, ace your exams, and leave. he'd be threatened by the competition, but you don't seem to want it. he doubts you even realize how close you are to taking his spot.

it's infuriating. so much potential, so little drive.

yet, it's utterly enticing. you're enticing.

it's a shock when he pulls into the gas station in the dead of night, needing kikufuku because geto devoured the last of it, and there you are. perched on the ledge behind the worn building.

he doesn't see your face at first, but he recognizes the leather angel kiss bag you practically live with, adorned with sonny angels and charms.

the grocery bag falls limply in his hand. he takes a few steps, stopping just behind you. he calls your name out, quiet and hesitant, a rare tone for gojo. there's a crinkle of foil from you, and you turn, startled.

"gojo?" you inquire, head tilted.

"uh, hey," he manages a gentle smile. "what're you doing here?"

a small smile touches your lips. "hi. i could ask you the same."

the white-haired boy chuckles. "dickhead roommate ate all my snacks."

your quiet laugh is beautiful, he thinks. "yeah? well, i ran out of cigarettes." you place one between your lips. sliding over on the ledge, you offer a silent invitation, which he accepts.

you're close. the scent of your saccharine strawberry shampoo fills his senses.

"want one?" you offer. he shakes his head. gojo doesn't smoke, rarely drinks. instead, he watches you inhale, then exhale, wispy gray curls dissolving into the dark.

the silence between you is mellow, not awkward. in the dim streetlamp glow, your lips look coated in strawberry-red gloss, leaving a stain on the white of the cigarette.

"sure you don't want a hit?" you ask, sensing his heavy, focused gaze.

and because he'd do anything at the sound of that voice, he nods, changing his mind.

satoru gojo has game, no doubt. one hundred percent. he's smooth with women, but you're not just any woman. you're you, and with you, his game dissolves. all his past charm feels irrelevant, meaningless.

it's just you. you and him. he's not sure how to navigate it, and his attempt only leaves him embarrassed.

his eyes fix on the red smudge. he presses his own lips directly onto that spot. this isn't even a kiss, but an odd euphoria floods him, as if he's never kissed anyone before.

gojo's eyes flutter shut. he takes a quick, deep inhale, lasting only seconds before he's spluttering, coughing. a dry, charcoal-like feeling enters his lungs, leaving his throat dry. "jesus," he winces, handing it back.

you giggle, not teasing, but amused. he echoes the sound, and you both dissolve into laughter.

at two in the morning, everything's funny. your hands brush his as you take the cigarette.

"a— are you okay?" you ask, trying to compose yourself.

"yeah!" he clears his throat. "i mean, yeah. yes. i'm good."

"never smoked?"

"nah. coach would kill me," he chuckles, and you hum. sometimes, he forgets he's that picture-perfect, well-rounded student. in these moments, everything else fades.

"yeah," you say, meeting his gaze. his eyes are already on you.

"yeah," he repeats, smiling.

and then he remembers your closeness. his heart, if it ever slowed, races. should he do it?

should he kiss you?

you're so sweet, so pretty, right there — so close. he leans in, instinctual, like his body is drawn to yours.

and maybe you're leaning in, too?

just like that, gojo doesn't have time to tell, because his phone rings, a bleary call from his confused roommate.

just like that, the moment shatters. gojo pulls back, farther than before. the sweet scent of your shampoo vanishes, the press of his thighs against yours, knees knocking, gone.

you wave goodbye. he waves goodbye.

and just like that, you're back to being the girl in his class. the girl behind the gas station.

୨୧ ⌞ act two: pro-bono deals. ⌝

gojo doesn't see it coming. he knows you're here often enough, a quiet fixture in the library's familiar hum. there's not much he knows about you, not really, but what little he's gathered, he clings to like scripture.

he knows you like to read. that's a given.

he knows the cute thing you do with your nose when you're deep in thought, a slight scrunch, lips pursed just so.

he knows you hate writing in pen. he offered you one once, when you were caught without anything to write with, but you’d asked for a pencil instead. something about being accident-prone, you'd said.

he knows your handwriting is god-awful, an illegible scrawl that makes him abandon any idea of feigning interest in your notes as an excuse to talk. he figures it’s because your brain moves faster than your hands can keep up.

he knows you like flowers, sometimes catching you pausing by the daisies near the fountain on the way to class.

these little things, these quiet quirks you have, he catalogues them meticulously. they're important to him, these small habits you might not even notice yourself.

it's what makes it so real, so tangible. it makes him feel like he knows you, as pathetic as that might sound.

what you don't like is studying. so, when he sees your nose buried deep in the familiar green shade of a physics textbook, he's got every right to be a little lost. for the entire two and a half years he's known you, gojo has never seen you go out of your way to study.

he shifts his weight, from one foot to another. he could let you be, let you work. or, he could… work with you? would that even be okay? after a dreadful moment of hesitation, he slides into the seat beside you.

you’re surprised to see him; it seems like you always are, when it’s him. nonetheless, a smile touches your face, so it’s a pleasant surprise. "gojo, what's up?"

"just… reading through things, studying for finals," he says, watching you close the book. "you don't mind if i sit here, right?"

"no, not at all," you assure him, waving off his mild concern. "i might go crazy reading this dumb thing alone, anyways."

gojo laughs, and your heavy sigh turns into a little chuckle. "don't like physics?"

"don't like science," you correct, slumping in your seat. you click and un-click your pen, groaning, "it's so boring."

"sounds about right coming from a literature major." he hopes you don't focus on how he knows your major. it seems to be alright, though, because you know his.

playfully, you raise your brows. "seriously, i have no idea how you're planning on doing that for the rest of your life."

"you're not bad at it, are you? i mean, based on, like, your scores and… stuff."

"no. i guess not. all my absences are catching up to me, though, and i'm a little behind."

he supposes it makes sense for you to be struggling a little, at least. he's not sure how you do it in the first place, managing to pass at all without any visible effort. sure, gojo's smart, but he's not that smart. he wouldn't say he's envious, but he wishes he had that ability.

the words tumble out of his mouth before he can stop them. "well, i could help you out," he offers. it comes out as more of a question, which he hates himself for. he also wishes he were more confident around you.

your eyes light up. "really? because field theory's kinda killing me." your gaze flickers from your notes to him, a little skeptical. you’re just not sure why he's hanging out with you in the first place, much less willing to, like, tutor you.

"yeah. if you want," his voice is a little less tentative, this time around.

"like… pro-bono?"

gojo chuckles. "sure. if you're up for aiding me in psychoanalyzing othello."

"you know what?" you ask, sticking your hand out. "deal."

he can't help the grin that spreads across his face, and he accepts your handshake. "deal."

your hand feels soft in his, and the mere touch makes him shiver. gojo inhales quietly, his eyes briefly glancing down to your lips.

it's the same strawberry-colored gloss. like a man down bad, all he can wonder is if it tastes like it, too.

୨୧ ⌞ act three: to get or not to get (some). ⌝

"i think we need to get you laid," shoko remarks, rather casually, the words cutting through the bass and chatter of geto's party. it makes gojo choke on his drink, a cheap beer in a red plastic cup, his grip tightening around it.

geto seems entirely too amused by this, a low laugh rumbling in his chest. "shit, sho, look at him, all red."

"shut up," he seethes, an unnatural flush creeping up his neck. he can feel the heat on his cheeks, a testament to his unexpected embarrassment.

she sighs, a faux melancholy. "poor guy. the clenched jaw tells me all i need to know."

"i don't— alright," gojo groans, quickly giving up. it's useless to argue with them when they're like this. "go ahead, abuse me like the great friends you are."

swirling her vodka with a straw, shoko snorts. "we are good friends, trying to save you from your newfound virginism."

"she's right," geto says pointedly, leaning forward. "you're like a male nun."

weakly, gojo repeats himself, "shut up." just as he’s reaching for his phone, a girl walks by. short dress, long legs, a smile that’s less friendly, more predatory, aimed straight at him. at some point, she would’ve been his ideal type, the kind of easy distraction he gravitated toward.

now? now, he doesn't even bat an eye. shoko looks at geto, a silent communication passing between them. geto looks at shoko. gojo glances up from his pocket, catching the sly, knowing looks his friends are giving him.

"or… maybe he's already getting some," geto nods, a mix of betrayal that he wasn't told and grudging impressment in his voice.

"you dog," shoko chuckles, nudging his arm with her elbow. "c'mon, who?"

"it's not— i'm not—"

geto sighs, "i didn't know we'd be around for the 'someone tied him down' era."

"guys—" he tries to interrupt, but then you walk by. his world narrows, the party noise fading to a dull hum. as if on instinct, his eyes get dreamy, following your path. his world stops, along with time itself, and gojo freezes, completely captivated.

they follow his line of sight, their gazes landing onto where he's looking. no, staring.

if he wasn't caught so off guard by shoko's low whistle, a sharp, clear sound in the sudden quiet of his world, he would have had a second to figure out why you were even here. "damn," she laughs, a genuine, unburdened sound. "if you fumble her, i call dibs."

"...didn't expect that. how do you even know her?" geto asks, a note of surprise in his voice.

"uh, she's in humanities with us," he says, a little annoyed that his friend, who shared classes with you, hadn't noticed you. he can’t imagine that possibility, especially not when you’re all gojo can seem to notice.

shoko squints, like she's trying to recall a distant memory. "oh, yeah. i think i've seen her, sometimes. doesn't she ditch, like, a lot?"

gojo shrugs. "i guess."

"i'm with geto. i wouldn't have pegged that, but congrats."

"it's not like that! we're just…" he’s about to say friends, but the word feels foreign, ill-fitting. he’s not even sure if you're that.

"no, no," geto shakes his head, a knowing smirk on his face. "sex is always great, man."

"we're not—"

the brown-haired girl cuts him off, her attention already elsewhere. "speaking of sex, i think i'm gonna have a go," she murmurs, vaguely gesturing to a pretty, curvy redhead across the room. downing the rest of her drink in one gulp, she's off before either of them gets a word in.

and, because god is good, a group of people walk in through the front door, and geto, ever the host, goes to greet them; it is his party, after all.

gojo sighs, weary, the weight of his friends' teasing momentarily forgotten. then he remembers: you're here. he’s practically racing away from the spot he's in, a desperate, though he hopes nonchalant, attempt to find you. had he been hallucinating? was he so crazy about you that he was now seeing you everywhere? oh, god.

gojo doesn't get any further with his worries, because someone runs into his back.

oh. oh, wait. the familiar, faint scent of strawberry shampoo. he turns around, heart already beating faster, a frantic rhythm against his ribs, when he sees you.

"jesus, i'm sorry. i didn't even see you." you look up, your eyes meeting his, and your apologies vanish into thin air, replaced by a soft, surprised expression. "oh, my god, hi."

"hey," he says, his voice a little breathy, holding his breath as if he’s scared to move, worried you'll simply vanish like a mirage.

"isn't it crazy how we keep running into each other?" you giggle, a light, melodic sound, blowing a strand of hair out of your face.

"yeah, um, small world," gojo nods, straining a smile that feels more like a grimace. you give him a funny look, a slight tilt of your head, but thankfully leave it. "i didn't think this was really your scene?"

your shoulders slump, and you sigh, a familiar weariness in the sound. "it's not. my friend dragged me here, and then left to go have trashy sex with a trashy guy."

"oof," he winces, a sympathetic grimace. "that's alright. you can always stick with me, you know." the words tumble out, hopeful and a little desperate.

you put a hand on his arm, a feather-light touch that sends a jolt through him, sighing in relief. "once again, you're my savior. i'm stuck here until she's," you pause, a flicker of distaste on your face, "done."

"ah, well, if it's trashy sex with a trashy guy, it'll probably not be too long." he rubs the back of his head, a nervous habit. "i wouldn't mind if it isn't, though. i like talking to you," he admits, the confession coming out a little sheepish.

"oh," you say, your cheeks flushing so slightly he almost misses it. "thanks. i mean, me, too."

"yeah." there's a beat of comfortable silence between you two, the thumping of bass from downstairs filling the quiet space. "say, uh, wanna go upstairs?"

your eyes go a little wide, a startled deer caught in headlights, and gojo quickly backpedals. "to talk. it's— it's just loud, here."

you nod, a slow, deliberate movement, sighing in either relief or disappointment (he can't tell, but he desperately hopes it's the latter).

his fingers tentatively lace with yours, a hesitant connection, and he pulls you gently past bodies of people swaying to the music. he leads you into a less crowded room, a quieter haven, and shuts the door behind him. the muffled bass is a distant thrum now. "isn't this much nicer?"

"definitely, yeah." you take a seat on the edge of the bed, a quick, almost imperceptible glance around to ensure it's clean. "so… how's your day been?" it sounds awkward, a little stilted, and he's glad that he’s not the only one.

taking a seat beside you, a comfortable, close distance, he smiles, "good. very good. you?" he looks right into your eyes, letting the sincerity of his words reach you.

you return the smile, a soft, hesitant curve of your lips, debating whether or not to scoot closer. "s'okay. better, now."

"i know you don't like parties, but on that scale, how's this one been? be nice, i helped set it up," he warns, a playful glint in his eyes.

"it's good. i appreciate the lukewarm beer."

he holds his hands up, defensive. "see, i told geto to get more coolers. that part's not on me."

"okay, then, what part's on you?" you ask, crossing your arms, a hint of playful challenge in your tone.

"uh, i did the…" he frowns, trying to remember his own contributions to the party prep. "i taste-tested all the snacks. does that count?"

you snort, a small, endearing sound. "did you eat all of them, too? 'cause there weren't any left when i got here."

"i," a pause, a hint of guilt in his voice, "might have had a little more than i was supposed to, but those cookies were really good. so was the kikufuku."

"there was kikufuku?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.

"not anymore," he admits, a wry grin on his face. "that, i did finish."

laughing, a genuine, unforced sound, you tilt your head, "what parties have kikufuku?"

"the really, really cool ones."

"is that right?"

"would i ever lie to you?" his voice is teasing, but there's something else there, too.

"hm, maybe not," you hum, making a show of inspecting his features, your gaze lingering on his eyes. "you do have a really honest face."

"you have a really pretty one," he retorts, the words escaping before he can think better of them. it takes you a second to process, a faint blush dusting your cheeks. him, too, because… did he just say that? was that bad? he can't, for the love of god, read your face.

your mouth opens, a soft parting of your lips, but you're robbed of a chance to respond, because a couple barges into the room, their laughter loud and jarring. gojo flinches, startled. huffing, he says, "occupied!"

it's shoko and the redhead. shoko's eyes flit from you to gojo, a silent apology passing between them before she quickly steers the redhead back out of the room, shutting the door. god, out of all his friends,

he wouldn't have expected her to be the cock-block. well, at least someone's getting some.

୨୧ ⌞ act four: nepo-baby v. broke barista.⌝

the gentle chime of the bell above the door echoes through the quiet café, a familiar melody that always brings a sense of calm to satoru.

he pushes the door open, the scent of rich, freshly brewed coffee washing over him, a comforting aroma that instantly eases the tension he hadn’t realized he was carrying. he lets out a small, almost imperceptible sigh of contentment.

this, to him, is the best place to be.

his sunglasses, a constant fixture even indoors and in the dead of winter, are perched precariously on the bridge of his nose. he knows he probably looks a little eccentric, a touch out of place, but he doesn't care.

gojo’s soft, white hair, perpetually threatening to fall into his startling blue eyes, drifts gently across his forehead. with a practiced flick of his wrist, he rakes it back, the cool air a stark contrast to the warmth of the café.

he steps towards the counter, his fingers drumming a silent rhythm against the smooth, polished surface. his order was always the same, a creature of habit in a world that constantly shifts and changes around him, a small anchor of predictability.

“hi,” a soft voice says, breaking him out of his reverie. gojo’s eyes fix on the meticulously arranged cookies in the display case, and he’s caught between the choice of chocolate chip or macadamia nut.

chocolate, duh.

“hey, could i—” his gaze finally shifts up, and he locks eyes with the barista. but, because god really does have favorites, it’s not just any barista, it’s you.

he’s caught off-guard, seeing you, though he really shouldn’t be. not after having run into you unplanned this many times, already. it’s almost comical at this point.

“damn,” he shakes his head, a smile of disbelief slowly spreading across his face. “are you playing a trick on me?”

“god, no,” you laugh, a clear, bright sound. a few stray strands of hair escape from beneath the café’s branded hat, and you brush them out of your face with a practiced motion.

your smile is a little lopsided, charmingly imperfect, and he notices your apron is slightly askew, a testament to what must have been a busy morning.

“i come here all the time. don’t tell me i’ve been missing you… somehow, like, every single time,” he pouts, a playful whine in his voice.

“no, no. don’t worry, i’m new. i started yesterday. apparently, i’m more broke than i realized,” you confess, a wry smile touching your lips.

he nods in understanding, giving you a look of genuine sympathy. “yeah, i get it.”

“oh, do you, rich boy?” you tease, your gaze playfully raking over his expensive sunglasses, then his wrist to his watch, and finally the glint of a gold chain peeking from beneath his shirt. i

t’s not a secret that gojo is loaded, the son of gojo enterprises’ founder. he’s always gone out of his way to be humble about it, part of why he works so hard.

“yeah, yeah,” he waves you off, a dismissive flick of his hand. "speaking of, you gonna mess up my drink, newbie?"

"oh, haha. did you lose your stick? because i think i know where it went." you quip back.

gojo snorts, motioning to the register. “caramel macchiato, please. extra sugar.”

“aw, elitist baby can say please.” you pause, a faint wrinkle forming between your brows. “wait, did you say extra sugar?” you ask, making a face as you reach for a plastic cup and a sharpie. he nods, feeling his face flush under your intense, slightly disgusted gaze. “you know it’s already, like, super sweet, right?”

in return, he nods again, a little sheepish. gojo watches you scribble his name down on the side of the cup, your handwriting the same scrawl it always is. he shuffles to the end of the counter, waiting to receive his order.

your movements are a little clumsy, a novice’s hesitation in your hands, and you have to pause to remember the steps for making the drink. he even sees you gag, just a little, when adding the extra thing he’d gone out of his way to tell you.

“enjoy the, uh, macchiato.” you can't help the slight grimace as you push the cup across the counter. the smell alone was overwhelmingly sweet, amplified tenfold by the extra sugar he’d requested.

“you’re laughing. don’t knock it ‘til you try it,” he grins, a flash of white teeth against his pale skin, eyes crinkling at the corners.

“nah, i think i’ll be knocking,” you giggle, shaking your head, a slight shiver running through you. “but, if that’s what you like, you do you.”

there's a beat of silence, and gojo watches you attention momentarily shift to a spilled sugar packet near the display. "we really should start planning our run-ins," he chuckles, his fingers brushing yours for a fleeting moment as he grabs the cup.

"they wouldn't be run-ins, then," you correct, a sly lilt in your voice.

"i… wouldn't mind that." the words are soft, almost a murmur, but loaded with intent.

the universe has a weird way of pulling people together, doesn't it?

୨୧ ⌞ act five: she loves me, she loves me not.⌝

gojo goes out of his way to plan this. he knows it's not a date, and he probably shouldn't pretend it is one. you had taken him up on his offer to hang out sometime, and he wanted it to be perfect.

you don't deserve anything less than that.

to anyone on the outside, he's sure it does look like a date. it feels like one, at least, if that counts. gojo picked you up, he dressed nice, you dressed nice, and he drove you to the park for a nice picnic. all of it sounds date-like, especially the part where he told you that you looked very cute today.

and, especially the part where he frantically back-pedaled, telling you; wait, you look cute today, but you look cute everyday. he doesn't just mean today.

and, especially, especially, how you'd teased him about it after. so, yeah, forgive him if he's having a hard time differentiating a platonic meetup and a not-so-platonic date.

gojo's picking off the petals on the daisy he's holding, hoping you don't notice how he's mentally playing she loves me, she loves me not. he glances at the small pile of discarded petals, then back at you, a soft smile playing on his lips.

you weave the stem of a flower into another, your brows furrowed in concentration on the crown you're making for him. "how long should i make this? you do have a really big head."

"hey, that's insulting. my head is perfectly normal-sized," he huffs, feigning offense, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. he leans closer, trying to get a better look at your handiwork. "are you sure you know what you're doing over there?"

"positive," you retort, not looking up. you wrap what you've got so far around his head, the cool petals a gentle press against his temple. "yep, definitely needs to be longer. see?"

"okay, rude." he pulls away slightly, inspecting the half-finished crown. "i'm starting to think you're just trying to wound my feelings."

you sigh, a dramatic, mournful sound. "truth hurts, right?" you glance up, your eyes locking with his, a gentle warmth in their depths. "this is really nice, by the way. i'm really glad we're doing this."

"me, too. feels a lot less rushed, compared to just seeing you around. not that i mind seeing you around," he quickly adds, the words tumbling out a little too fast, a faint blush creeping up his neck.

you smile, a soft, genuine curve of your lips. "yeah, i get it. you picked a nice spot. the gardens are so beautiful, i can't believe i've never been here before," you say, looking around at the vibrant roses beside you, your gaze lingering on their soft petals.

"you just wait, then, i've got a whole roster, baby." he means the pet-name as a joke, a casual endearment, but the sudden flicker in your gaze has his breath hitching, a silent question forming in his mind.

"you make me sound like your girlfriend," you laugh, the sound light and airy, a small puff of air escaping your lips.

"i bet you'd like that, huh?" he teases, pushing his luck, and you respond by playfully throwing a torn-off stem at him, which he easily dodges.

rolling your eyes at him, you scoff. "i just meant all this. you're really nice to me." your voice softens towards the end, a subtle shift in tone that he notices.

"well, yeah, we're," he hesitates, the word catching in his throat, "friends." sure, he's glad that you're even that, that you tolerate his presence, but it's still disappointing, only that.

"mm, friends," you repeat, the word echoing his own slight disappointment. he wonders if that's a similar ache he hears in the tone of your voice.

"what? you fallin' for me?" he asks, playing it off as a joke, a lighthearted jab, but, god, he wishes. he so, so desperately prays that a tiny part of it is true.

"oh, shut up," you huff, but the warmth on your cheeks contradicts your words, a tell-tale flush that brings a hopeful flutter to his chest.

he tilts his head at you, intently studying the familiar sparkle in your eyes, the way they crinkle slightly at the corners when you're amused.

taking one of the remaining daisies, he gently tucks it behind your ear, his fingers brushing against the soft skin of your neck. "you should call me satoru."

"yeah? okay, then, shut up, satoru." the corners of your mouth quirk upwards, a small, knowing smile.

he plucks off the last petal. she loves me.

୨୧ ⌞ act six: stay, little valentine, stay.⌝

"i hate valentine's day, you know," you frown, slumping down in the bakery's chair. the place smells sweet, a comforting blend of buttered croissants and something faintly fruity, like berries.

"of course you would. you're single," he remarks, casually, playing with the crinkly wrapping paper of his straw.

"you're single, too, gojo."

he points a finger at you, raising his perfectly sculpted eyebrows. "yeah, but that's different. i'm at peace with it."

shoving his index finger away, you whine, "what, like you aren't sick of seeing love-sick couples sucking each other's faces off, all day?"

well, he won't admit it (to you, at least), but he's mostly just been imagining what it would be like if those love-sick couples were you two.

before he can come up with a lame excuse, an employee, a young guy with a chipped name-tag stops by, checking in to see if you need anything else. "just letting you know, it's all half-off for couples today," they say, their tone far too cheery for your liking.

you say, "oh, no, we're not—" at the exact same time gojo says, "sure. another blueberry muffin, please. two, actually."

"are you crazy?" you whisper harshly at him, leaning across the table, your eyes wide with disbelief. "we're not even a couple." unbothered, he shoves your face away, a playful flick of his wrist.

instead, he smiles brightly at mark, and audaciously winks at you. "a couple of those strawberry tarts, too. my girlfriend here has a real sweet tooth."

your voice is strained, a desperate attempt to salvage the situation. "he's exaggerating. just the muffins, please."

with a click of their pen, they're telling you that you're an adorable couple, then walking off, already distracted by another customer.

"see? adorable. i'm already winning 'em over." gojo leans back in his chair, a smug look on his face.

you shoot him a look, a mix of exasperation and reluctant amusement. "winning who over? the employee? or me, into wanting those things? besides, i didn't even need any."

"first, who said it was for you?" he retorts, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "second, it's half-off. it'd be a shame if we didn't take advantage of it."

"right," you laugh, shaking your head. he might be going crazy, but he's really fond of the idea that at least one person thinks you're dating. and, sure, that doesn't make it real, but it's a step closer.

"you know," he says, taking a sip of his smoothie (your smoothie, he stole it from you and you said nothing, which he considers a victory), "i think we'd make a good couple."

"oh? what makes you so sure?" you challenge, raising an eyebrow.

"think about it. i'm the brains, you're the… well, you're pretty good at complaining. we balance each other out," gojo claims, with a confidence that has you kicking his shin from under the table.

"ow! seriously?" he yelps, rubbing his leg.

"oh, is that your sales pitch? my top quality is complaining? how charming." you deadpan, crossing your arms.

"it's a very enthusiastic quality. plus, you'd never have to open jars again. or reach for things on high shelves. i'm basically a human step-stool with great hair." he gestures to his impeccably styled white locks.

"so, your criteria for a good relationship is purely utilitarian? i'm good for complaining and you're good for opening jars?"

"and looking good. don't forget that. i'm the eye candy. every couple needs eye candy. you can be good at appreciating my eye candy."

you fight the urge to stick a fork in his eyes. "right, because all i do is sit around and appreciate your god-given good looks."

"besides," he continues, ignoring your sarcasm, "that guy bought it. means we look pretty couple-y, right?"

you stare at him, a flat, unimpressed look on your face. "or, it means he's being paid minimum wage, and couldn't care less."

"you would know, broke ass." another swift kick, and he hisses, pouting exaggeratedly.

"excuse me?" you huff. "minimum wage or not, that man is doing his job. unlike you, who's just freeloading off my good reputation."

he nods, as if he's genuinely considering this profound statement. "good reputation? for hating valentine's day? that's quite the legacy."

defensively, you sit up straighter. "it's a very respectable stance! and i'm not broke. i just appreciate a good discount. like you, apparently, considering you just scammed a bakery employee into thinking we're an item."

he choose not to address you, taking a moment to meticulously tear the paper of the straw in half. "on the other hand," gojo says, eyes fixed on his paper dissection, "if you weren't single, you'd be far less grouchy all the time."

"you already said that," you huff, deadpan.

"it still holds true," he nods, finally looking up, a serious expression on his face.

snorting, you tilt your head up, looking at the cracks in the ceiling. "so… you're suggesting i need to get a boyfriend? are you also suggesting the boyfriend is… you? just to not be grouchy? okay, well, what if i prefer to be grouchy? what if that's, like, my thing?"

"not necessarily." he almost says yes, but catches himself. "but you should know, i'd make a gas boyfriend," he insists, puffing out his chest playfully.

"good to know," you hum, snatching your drink back. when you take a sip from exactly where he did, his heart does a little flip in his chest, a secret, happy flutter.

gojo clicks his tongue. "and, also, impossible. no one prefers to be grouchy. you're just… unfulfilled. a boyfriend would bring joy, sunshine, spontaneous acts of adoration. less frowning, more smiling."

"these are high standards to hold to yourself. or, like, this hypothetical boyfriend. also, i like the grouch. i think it's kind of like my core trait." you tap your chest, a definitive statement.

"that is such a sad, sad trait to base yourself off."

"oh, please," you scoff, rolling your eyes. "like the rich daddy's boy thing you have going on is any better."

he holds his hands up, defensive, but a grin splits his face. "well, one of us is paying for lunch, and the other isn't. you know, because she's broke." mildly offended, you kick him. again.

"hey! quit doing that. anyways, my point is, i've got all day to change your mind about valentine's."

"all day? what if i'm busy?" you challenge, a playful glint in your eye.

"nah. you wouldn't be here with me, if you had plans." he says it with absolute certainty.

he doesn't know it yet, but, yeah, even if you did have plans, you'd still ditch them for him.

୨୧ ⌞ act seven: strawberries and cigarettes always taste like you.⌝

gojo's phone died a little while back, and he has no idea what time it is. it doesn't really matter, though, not when he's walking in the dim-lit street with you, not when it feels like this moment will last forever.

he pulls you behind that same, tattered, gray building, the gas station he saw you at just a couple months ago. it looks the same, save for the dumpster that's against the bushes instead of the wall.

"oh, shit," he laughs, the sound a little breathless. "it smells rank back here."

you plop down on the familiar concrete ledge, scrunching your nose in agreement. "don't even start, you're the one who dragged me here. for your stupid matcha cravings."

pulling him down next to you, his shoulder bumps against yours. "wait, wait," you murmur, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of your pocket. holding a flame to the end, you cup your hand to keep the tiny light from going out in the faint breeze.

there's an odd feeling that passes through him, not quite nostalgia, when he sees that identical stain of strawberry-colored gloss on the end your lips are over.

"remember the last time i tried to smoke one?" he asks, a small, knowing grin on his face.

"yeah," you giggle, your shoulders shaking slightly as the smoke hits your lungs. "you almost died."

he's a little flustered, denying it immediately. "i did not almost die."

"close enough, you started choking and everything. wanna try again?" you ask, holding it near him, the lit tip glowing orange in the dim light. he eyes it, then looks back at you, a challenge in his gaze.

"damn, you tryna kill me?" he teases, but his voice is softer than he intends.

you lean closer, a pretty smile on your face that makes his voice catch. "would i get your money, if i did?"

his lips part, a hesitant breath escaping him, and you slip the cigarette between them. he can faintly smell the sweetness of the red. it's barely there, a ghost of a scent, but it's enough.

"relax," you hum, your voice a low, soothing sound. "you don't need to be so tense, it's just me."

but that's the thing — it's just you. just you and him, here again, alone in the quiet hum of the night. you're so close, invading all of his senses, leaving him breathless. how is he even supposed to think straight?

he, hesitant, inhales the smoke. he lasts hardly any longer than last time, turning away and breaking into a coughing fit, his shoulders shaking with the effort.

"oh, my god," you wheeze, patting his back, a mixture of concern and amusement in your touch. "careful. you're not supposed to suck in that much. just a puff, sato." the nickname, soft and intimate, has him blushing, and he has to duck his head, hiding his flushed face.

"one more time, or are you tapped out?" you ask, your voice still laced with laughter.

"one more," he breathes, tilting his head up to take in a smaller stroke. it's easier this time, irritates his throat less. he has to clear his chest, a low rumble, but he doesn't start writhing on the floor, so it's a win.

"oh, look! you did it," you smile, your eyes sparkling, and you gently pat his cheek. he wants to respond, but all he can manage is to lean into your touch. you don't move your hand, but stay cupping his face instead, your thumb stroking his cheekbone.

"hey, pretty," he whispers, his voice thick, feeling his breath mingle with yours in the cool night air.

you scoot closer, virtually pressed flush against him, and the sudden warmth of your body sends a jolt through him. "hi." his heart is beating loudly against his ribcage, a frantic drum, and he's afraid you can hear it.

gojo watches your eyes glaze over, a hazy, soft look, and how your long lashes flutter against your skin. you clutch his shirt, your fingers digging into the fabric, and your noses brush against his. and in a moment of a burst of raw courage, he presses his lips against yours.

it's not patient, but it's still loving, desperate in its urgency. it's clumsy, rather, messy, because both of you have been waiting too long for this to happen. your teeth clash against his, a soft click, as your lips, almost silkenly soft, move against his.

he tastes the faint sweetness of strawberries, a hint of something smoky and intoxicating. his hand, warm and firm, cups the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss.

the other hand fixes on your waist, keeping you there, pressed flush against him, as if he fears you might disappear.

it's awkward at first, tentative, because he's all too focused on the frantic butterflies that loop through his stomach, a dizzying swarm. it's like he's never kissed another person before, like he's forgotten how to. it was like his first one. his right one.

when he pulls away, you're panting little breaths, needing air, foreheads pressed together, your eyes still hazy. gojo presses another gentle kiss to the top of your hair, his nose nuzzled there, inhaling your scent.

you taste like strawberries and cigarettes.

unofficial permanent taglist: @jeonwiixard, @mia-can-yap-too did u guys know this is the longest fic ive ever written i should get head in the gc <33 big thanku to @mia-can-yap-too for beta reading i cannot be trusted to go back and do that myself i will cry also tagging myleslover @shokocide bc ur long fics inspire me + idk how u do it but share the talent !!! gatekeeping is bad incorrect buzzer

[yunamoona]

“How many do you think is too many?” Is a too dangerous question to ask a greedy man like Satoru Gojo.

He’d keep you knocked up for as long as you’d allow it, and if you do allow it— for years to come, one after another. I just know he wants a huuuuge family, so many babies, as many as you’ll give him.

Gets to a point where your second daughter who’s no older than two gets confused when you’re not pregnant for once.

She clambers up the couch onto your lap, her tiny hands pawing at your stomach. And then she lifts the hem of your shirt, ducking her small head under, and then out, and then under again. A childlike concern furrows her wispy brows as she looks to you. “Mama, your tummy gone!”

Her innocent fretting warrants a surprised huff of laughter from you, but from across the living room, it cues a scheming, wickedly thrilled look from your husband.

He himself trudges over, lifting his legs high with every step as two of your other children clung to each of his calves like koalas to a tree trunk, squealing joyfully as he hauled them along.

There’s a genuinely bright grin as he lifts your daughter from your lap, the little girl beaming and giggling when he blew raspberries into her cheek.

“D’aww don’t look so frowny, cupcake,” He cooed as he lifted her overhead, sitting the now smiley girl atop his shoulders. All three of your littles were now tugging at some part of him with cheery expressions, whether it be his pants, shirt, or hair as he affirmed, “Mama’s tummy’ll come back.”

Satoru’s eyes shift to you now with a devious and knowing glint, loaded with implications that only you and him are privy to as he slyly adds, “won’t it, Mama?”

[coralbae]

that should be me

one of your friends pretends to be your boyfriend for a social media post, how do the boys react? (pre-relationship) | requested

characters: gojo, geto, nanami, toji, choso, sukuna

warnings: none

[nezuscribe]

being gojo’s fake girlfriend means that you have to bottle up your real feelings just so he can express his. but it also means that for the first time, he sees you in a different way too.

maybe it’s the time spent together in front of people acting like you’re a real couple, maybe it’s the closeness that you never had before, but gojo starts seeking out your touch, your laugh, your voice, your presence more than he thought he would. it’s weird, it’s addictive.

so sue him if he sometimes takes advantage of it.

“g’off me!” you yell, muffled by the large body slumped on top of you. there’s no bite, maybe even a little laughter as he stays still, arms caging you into the couch.

you were over at his apartment for the night, not feeling like driving back to your house after classes, and seeing how gojo lives so close to campus you decided to crash at his place.

but now, after dinner and a movie, he doesn’t seem like he’s ready for bed. he doesn’t seem like he wants you to get ready for bed either.

“no,” he says into the crook of your neck, his lips pulling into a smile as you helplessly try to shove him off. those countless nights at the gym are really showing up and now and you wonder what he looks like under all those baggy clothes.

“need to pee!” you shout pathetically, giggling a little bit as his fingers pinch at your sides. he shakes his head, however, at your request, and instead moves his arms to wrap even tighter around your waist.

you feel a warmth creep up your neck and to your cheeks, stilling for a second as you feel his breath on your skin, his lips against your neck. it’s all so close, so intimate that you feel your heart rattle around your chest.

your hands push at his shoulders, squished between your two bodies as you flail around helplessly.

“i can’t feel my lungs,” you say, kicking your legs up a bit, and he chuckles, pushing himself up just a bit so he could look at you better.

“you’re still alive though, yeah?” his voice is teasing, a litttle groggy from a long day and you roll your eyes.

in moments like this you forget the whole stupid fake dating scheme. you forget about suki and geto and about your stupid feelings. it’s all as if nothing changed, as if the two of you were still as close as you were when you were still just friends.

“i need to pee, i need to take my makeup off, i-” you ramble, going down the laundry list of things you needed to do before sleep got a hold of you.

gojo stares, perplexed at your running list, and his eyes flash a bright blue, lips pulling into a mischievous smile as he shushes you.

“i can help with your makeup,” he announces, dropping his head back down closer, moving at the speed of light as he brings his face close to yours, his tongue running a long strip from your chin to your cheekbones.

you freeze, shock in your eyes as you look at him. there’s another moment of silence before you screech, mustering up enough strength that you were lacking before to shove him off of you. he tumbles off the couch and to the ground, his hand splayed across his chest as he laughs, something hearty and warm as you scramble to wipe him off.

“you’re so weird!” you scream, your nose scrunching up in annoyance and disgust as yuh run to the kitchen sink, wetting a paper towel as you try to scrub him away from you.

you can still hear his laughter when you walk back, throwing the wet towel on his face. you feel a little satisfaction as he sputters, scrambling to take it off.

“bet your loverboy suguru wouldn’t do that for you,” gojo quips, throwing the towel on the coffee table as he sits up, resting his weight on his elbows as you sit on the other end of the couch.

you scoff, kissing the back of your teeth. you don’t know hat your more ticked about; the fact that he still thinks you’re in love with suguru or the fact that he seems a little annoyed to admit it.

“nobody would do what you did ‘toru,” you mutter in annoyance. still, his nickname rolls off of your tongue, and his grins widens a little bit.

he schooches a little close to you, so that he’s near where you feet hang off the couch and mindlessly fiddles with the hem of your socks.

“you’re so touchy tonight,” you observe, squinting your eyes, “everything good?”

gojo looks up at you, confusion in his eyes. he looks back down to where his hand was, as if he hadn’t noticed what he was doing. he shrugs, trying to act indifferent when he answers.

“just felt like it,” he looks at you, “is that so wrong?”

you try to act indifferent to, not wanting him to know just how much this is affecting you, these little touches and moments.

“not wrong,” you say after a beat, “just…new.”

gojo nods, pursing his lips together as he thinks.

“good new?” he finally asks, and you can’t help the little smile that makes its way onto your face. damn gojo and his antics.

“sure,” you reply, “good new,”

[sleepdeprivedfrfr]

inspired by this tik tok lol

you and velcrobf!satoru have been dating for over a year now. in just a few short months, your boyfriend has been basically attached to you by the hip. ever since your one year anniversary has passed, he's been trying to convince you to move in with him. he honestly wanted you to move in with him during the first month of your relationship, but he knew he would scare you away.

you told him that you would think about it, as it was a big decision for you to make. satoru respected your wishes, but that didn't mean he hasn't been absolutely miserable without you there with him every second of the day.

recently, your extremely clingy boyfriend has been inviting you to come over practically every day, which eventually leads to you sleeping over. its become a routine, and satoru fucking loves it.

tonight was movie night, and you and satoru were in bed having a marvel movie marathon. your legs were slung across his lap underneath the soft blanket that covered you both. you stared up at your boyfriend as he gently caressed you legs while being completely enveloped by the fighting sequence on the screen, you then had the idea to pull out your phone and record while pranking your boyfriend.

"satoru."

his head shot towards you as soon as he heard you call him by anything but a nickname, "what's wrong? are you feeling okay?"

you hid a smile and pretended to rub your eyes, "I think... I think 'm gonna go home now 'kay?"

he sat up straight while unknowingly gripping on your legs, "what? why?"

"im really tired, so I'm gonna leave—"

"no!"

you watched as your boyfriend pleaded before you could even finish your sentence and you couldn't help but giggle at his quick outburst.

"why are you laughing? sweets can you please stay?"

his eyes softened as they pleaded with you, your heart almost imploded right then and there.

"oh my god 'toru I was kidding."

he pulled you into him and pouted as you ruffled his hair, "that wasn't funny."

you smiled and gave him a peck on the cheek, "you mad at me 'toru? does this mean I can't move in anymore?"

satoru looked down at you with the biggest grin on his face, "you better not be prankin' me sweets."

ALSO THANK YOU GUYS FOR 1K HOLY FRICK ILY

[reignpage]

Need A Trusted Adult

Smau: in which you prank them by going a little crazy with the dirty talk Warnings: 18+ minors and ageless blogs dni, this highkey turned very dark and very fetishy (but only ironically pls I'm normal I swear), proceed with caution lovelies Featuring: Gojo, Geto, Choso, Toji, Nanami, Sukuna, Ino, Shiu, Hiro

[mahowaga]

there is nothing satoru hates more than seeing you walk away from him, even for a moment.

it's irrational—he knows it. he knows you'll be back, knows the sound of your footsteps, the soft click of the door when you return, the way your voice fills the empty spaces in his apartment and in his chest. still, there's an ache in the hollow of his ribs when you turn your back, when your hand slips from his for the length of a breath, a heartbeat, an errand run.

it's not the silence he hates. not the absence itself. it's the fear stitched beneath his skin, leftover from too many losses, too many nearlys and almosts and not-quite-forevers. it's the memory of empty rooms, of goodbyes that became habits, of blinking away the ghost of warmth in the sheets beside him.

there is nothing satoru hates more than the moment you are out of sight.

because every time you go, the world seems to lose color, just a little. and every time you return—arms full, smile bright, apology ready for being gone so long—he realizes, again, how much he needs you to stay.

[snail-day]

Satoru lives for your grumpy mornings, makes a whole game out of it, really. How long it takes for you to snap. The second you shuffle into the kitchen, barely picking your feet up, he’s leaning against the counter with a grin that’s way too bright for this hour. Or perhaps for a man who only got roughly three hours of sleep.

“Ohhh, good morning, grumpy butt,” he chirps, voice syrupy sweet and teasing. Those stupidly pretty baby blues twinkle with mischief, and his snow-white hair is all fluffed from sleep, a few strands sticking up where he clearly towel-dried it and called it a day.

You mumble something incoherent and plop into his arms anyway, letting yourself sink into his warmth. Pressing your face into his toned chest and taking a big whiff. He smells like laundry detergent and the faint hint of his cologne, clean, sweet, familiar.

“Awwww,” he coos, dropping into that obnoxious baby voice, arms caging you in as he sways you side to side, “it’s so hard being my sleepy little baby, huh? Sooo tough, such a hard little life you got.”

You groan into his chest, but that only earns you a cascade of kisses, first to your head, then your cheek, your temple, and your nose. Each one loud and wet on purpose.

“Mwah. Mwah. Mwah, oh? What was that? You hate me?” he gasps, planting another exaggerated kiss right on your frown. “You’re so mean in the mornings, baby. I’m delicate like a flower.”

His lashes flutter as he leans in closer, mock-pouting. You hate how good he looks like this, face still soft with sleep, lips plush and pink, that playful curve to his mouth, knowing exactly how far he can push you before you start biting.

He starts walking you backward with all those kisses, cornering you between his strong arms and the kitchen counter's edge until you’re stuck in his little trap. He looks down at you with a bright smile, arms looped lazily around your waist.

“You’re not even denying it,” he hums, voice low and sing-song as he kisses you again, softer this time, lips lingering on yours for a few mere seconds just to taunt again. “You're so cute when you’re cranky. Wanna hit me a little? Maybe a little bite? Go ahead. I can take it. Just don’t stop cuddling me after.”

[nanaslutt]

asking them if they think you could be on the cover of vogue

ʚ incl: gojo, geto, nanami, toji, choso, sukuna, higuruma, shiu, ino, shoko, uraume

ʚ cont: fluff, crack

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

[tojisdove]

Hello!! Can I request a jjk twitter porn link post dedicated to only fingering??😭❤️

"TW1TTER P0RN LINK5: PT5" — jjk men.

☆ cw : nsfw twt links w your favorite jjk men. afab reader. minors do not interact. ( make a request here! )

☆ note : dunno if back already, but my pretty boy is asleep and I'm way too bored sooo– posting a lil something

TOJI FUSHIGURO / SUKUNA RYOMEN

cw: bondage/ropes, veiny veiny veiny, lingerie?

you look so pretty tied up for him

kinda self indulging on veiny hands ngl–

gotta keep em cute thigh highs on, baby!

tried to be as gentle as possible for once omggg

GETO SUGURU / SATORU GOJO

cw: kitchen counter, way too many fingies ngl <3

tonight's dessert is just finger lickin' good fr

well, maybe you shouldn't have listened to him when he said it's never too much

slap, slap, slap!

it's finally time for some saturday night fun

NANAMI KENTO / HIGURUMA HIROMI

cw: lingerie, thumbing, idk if I could consider it somno

sleepy lil circles for his angel <3

finals week got you way too stressed, huh?

"white suits you so well, princess"

will never apologize about my obsession w this skirt clip

CHOSO KAMO / INO TAKUMA

cw: dry humping/over em clothes, mutual masturbation

he's always so so so happy getting to make you wet

lay comfortable and let your boy take care of everything ♡

he said he was too shy to slide your panties off :(

gotta of course reward him as well while helping you out

© tojisdove 2025. please do not copy, modify, translate, or repost my works on any platform without my permission.

[bluukive]

Control Freak

coɴтεɴт - MDNI, please have an age in bio when interacting, jjk x reader, explicit, jjk men controlling a toy inside reader, public stuff

cнαrαcтεrѕ - Geto, Nanami, Gojo, Toji, Sukuna

an - if I saw someone do this irl I'd probably cry but ig it's nice in fiction