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katsukiflr · 2 years

Text

nice tits, tough guy.

⤷ pairing: satoru gojo + fem!reader

warnings: praise, established relationship, brief allusions to face sitting, mutual tit sucking, fairly vanilla, tw: happy couple that’s super in love,

genre: smut, porn with minimal plot, lots of fluff

1837 words

you and satoru are on your bed and before you know it your tits are in each other’s mouths.

a/n: i’ve been working on this for over 5 months, enjoy :)

the two of you sat on your shared bed; a soft woven blanket draped over your lower halves, satoru’s head nestled in your lap, his face turned to the side, and gaze focused on the movie playing in front of you.

your fingers were mindlessly running running through satoru’s soft, snow white locks as he purred in blissful gratitude. if you ever paused your movements, satoru would whine until you pet his head again.

it was truly endearing— how your six foot four boyfriend made himself so small, curled up on your lap, and whining like a kitten when your attention focused on anything other than him.

satoru didn’t think heaven was attainable—it was just another unreachable place stuck between the borders of infinity. but, lying here with you as you scratched his scalp and met his gaze every so often with nothing but adoration in your eyes, he thinks he’s reached heaven.

satoru turns around, away from the movie playing in front of you, and repositions himself on your lap so that his face is in front of your torso. he nuzzles his face into your clothed stomach while humming in contentment. then, satoru’s hand reaches up to cup at your breast through your shirt in a oddly casual, domestic way.

your attention focuses away from the movie and instead on your boyfriend’s sudden, arbitrary actions. your brows furrow in confusion; what is he doing? your thoughts are abruptly cut short when satoru thumbs softly at your nipples through your shirt. a pleased, breathy laugh escapes his lips after he finds that you have forgone wearing a bra.

he circles and gently pulls at your clothed nipples until they’re sensitive and your eyes are fluttering shut as you sit above him. your brows are pinched ever so slightly and satoru’s chest swells when he looks at you, smiling at how cute you look. “satoru?”, you question. you’re surprised by the slight breathlessness in your voice already, but that was just the effect that gojo satoru had on you.

he ignores you, bunching up the cotton material of your shirt just enough to reveal your bare stomach. you inhale sharply when the cool air hits your skin.

your boyfriend takes several moments to admire the expanse of your skin, the curve of your hips, the freckles he’s mapped like constellations countless times, and the soft pudge of your tummy. satoru then presses a feather light kiss to your stomach and in response your insides flutter. he pulls away and looks up at you through long, white lashes. he smiles softly, the sapphire irises of his eyes containing a thousand words that are needless to say out loud.

he presses another kiss. then another. then another. then he bites; he bites the skin of your stomach like you were just another sweet treat he was ready to devour. little did you know you were. you wince above him at the sharpness of his canines digging into the sensitive parts of you.

“lift up your shirt.” satoru deadpans.

you comply instantly, pushing your shirt up to sit just below your collarbones and allowing your breasts to spill out. your cheeks flush with tremendous warmth at your sudden exposure compared to satoru’s lack of it.

your boyfriend briefly admires your breasts with wide eyes and a loving smile until indisputable, carnal desire consumes his senses. satoru’s eager hands come up to cup at your tits and knead the soft skin. he hums at the way that the flesh spills into his hands, a feeling he’s grown accustomed to but will never become tired of. you flinch under his grasp, whining at the feeling of his big hands pawing at you. you found that everywhere that his hands touched left your skin scalding.

“pretty,” he mutters. satoru leans up, his body still draped over your lap, and presses a quick kiss between your breasts before latching his mouth onto your nipple. his eyes flutter shut and tranquillity settles over his features, humming at the taste of you on his tongue and the farmiliar feeling of your tits in his mouth. he languidly swirls his tongue around it, gently licking and suckling until you’re spit slicked, sensitive, and squirming above him.

satoru coaxes you into a state of delirium in which you’re left helpless: heaving and whining as goosebumps prickle your skin, your nipples become sensitive, and shocks of heat surge through you and make home in between your legs.

“o-oh fuck”, you mewl, stomach churning thick like honey and cunt growing damp. tremors run through your body as you begin to curl in on yourself in ecstasy.

his lips are soft, plump, and decorated with a sheen of strawberry chapstick; whenever he wraps them around you, you can’t help but whine at the way they cushion against you.

“satoru,” you keen, body trembling at the fleeting touches, versant hands, and the way satoru’s lips feel soft like an angels cheek. your eyes flicker over him and in a stroke of serendipity notice the tightness of his white shirt and the way his nipples pebble and poke through the cotton. suddenly, you feel hot all over at the thought of satoru’s tits. lust consumes you like a flood comsumes the the streets of earth at the thought of his pressing kisses and sucking bruises into his flushed chest.

“can i uh- lift up your shirt?” you whisper shyly.

satoru hums, pulling away from your tits— a string of saliva connecting them to his mouth. he nods, ears twinged pink as the corner of his lips upturn.

you scrunch up his shirt so it sits on his collarbone. your body feels all too warm now that the delicate, unmarked canvas of his skin is exposed. you sigh as you admire the hard muscle of his stomach, the ridges of his abs, the softness of his skin, and the bulk of his chest. you’ve seen his tits all too many times before but never really studied them until now. they’re so pretty. you think.

his nipples are a soft shade of pink, puffy from his arousal. they’re a beautiful contrast to his milky skin. your hands move to tentatively rest on the curve of his back, urging him forward so that you’re eye level with his tits.

embarrassment settles in and takes form in your warm cheeks and shaky hands. this is embarrassing; you’ve never asked him for something like this. you’ve never done this.

your eyes flicker to satoru’s and you find yourself lost in turquoise pools of andromeda. all coherent thoughts and anxieties melt away at the loving way he looks at you, eager eyes full of adoration.

“you’re so pretty ‘toru.” you sigh, leaning forward to kiss his sternum. your lips graze the very bottom of his chest, teeth scraping over the skin as satoru gasps above you. you plant kiss after kiss over the expanse of his chest before making your way over to his tits.

you part your lips, tongue peeking out to timidly lick at one of satoru’s nipples before sucking it softly into your mouth. “o-oh,” satoru stutters. you repeat the action: gently swirling your tongue around the soft, pink bud before encasing the plush of your lips around it. your other hand comes to softly scratch your nails up and down his abdomen, tracing the hard dips of muscle as you continue to suckle on his chest.

satoru has always been sensitive: his neck, his chest, to the dip of his spine, his cock, his thighs, just below his ears, and presumably in any other places you have yet to discover. the thought of seeing if he can cum just from having his tits sucked briefly crosses your mind; that’s something for another time.

you trail your unoccupied hand up hand to grope at his chest, kneading the silky flesh, and satoru makes the prettiest sound above you. “you’re so sensitive,” you giggle. you gently take his other nipple in between your fingers and pinch and pull at it until he’s is whining above you.

“f-fuck, oh fuck,” satoru moans. you peer at him through your lashes, feeling something swirl in the very bottom of your stomach as your cunt grows sticky. you drink in the rosy flush dusting his cheeks and the tops of his ears, the soft slant of his nose, the welcoming curve of his lips, the aquamarine crystals of his eyes as they roll back, the fluttering of his lashes, the soft tufts of his hair, and his parted lips as the gasp and tremble.

a soft whine escapes your lips at the sight of your boyfriend quivering above you; the subtle vibrations against satoru’s skin making his hips buck carelessly, his cock weeping in the unforgiving confinement of his shorts. he’s so hard.

there is a gluttonous ache inside of him churning slowly in the pit of his stomach. perhaps it’s the way your breasts press together—soft and supple—as you lean over him. perhaps it’s knowing the sounds he could pull from you if his mouth was on your chest right now.

“fuck, please”

he doesn’t even know what he’s asking for, he doesn’t even recognize the desperation in his voice. his skin feels too hot. you’re making him feel so good; mindless whines are tumbling out of his mouth without being of his own accord as you kiss at his nipples and he gets lost in his own thoughts. his mouth, desperate and greedy, longs to feel your skin, to retrace the lines he knows so well, and to make you feel good.

“sweetheart,“ he whines, “gotta make you feel good too.” your chest flutters with warmth and you feel yourself whimper against his skin. “c’mere,” he places his hands on the dips of your hips, urging you forward just a bit more so that your breasts spill directly in front of his face. “there she is.” he sighs, wrapping his lips around the soft bud of your nipple.

satoru kisses and sucks on your breasts as you continue to do the same to his, the both of you exchanging a chorus of hushed whimpers, noises reserved solely for the two of you.

“satoru, it’s ‘s good.”

“i know baby, i know.” he whispers.

you sit like that for a while, mouths occupied, nipples tender and swollen, whining, skin flushed, the air thick and heavy, and hands progressively growing greedier. your hand was stroking satoru’s cock through his sweats as he mindlessly bucked into your hand. his hand was cupping your cunt through your shorts, petting at the warmth as you pressed yourself into him.

satoru is the first to pull away, panting from his uninterrupted assault on your breasts. “okay sit on my face right now before i die,”

you flush, “okay.”

he leans up and presses a chaste kiss to your lips. “then i’m fucking you stupid.”