#satoru gojo fic

[livinghostly]

i will hold on to you for as long as you let me — megumi fushiguro x mom!reader, satoru gojo x reader

a/n: sorryyy the fushiguro-gojo family dynamic was rotting my brain and i needed this out of my system. LOTS of projection of my fear of growing up in this one soz. this was fully meant to be a drabble and it just kept going idk wc: 3.1k angst/fluff. mom!reader has a lot of bittersweet thoughts about megumi growing up and satoru is there to comfort <3 lots of parentheses and lots of repetition

you put on a brave face all day. all week, even. despite the burn in your chest that engulfed your lungs and squeezed unrelentingly. despite the tears that burned the corners of your eyes delicately balancing on the your waterline, one blink away from breaking the surface density and opening the floodgates to pour down your cheeks. despite the non-stop ache of your stomach, churning what you ate every day but still holding the same emptiness as anxiety consumed you.

megumi didn’t pack much, he never held on to many things to begin with. (you always prayed for that to change, for his comfort your home. you prayed he would see it as his own, as well). he neatly folded his clothes into his suitcases and stacked his hangers on top. he purchased a new sheet set for his bed in the dormitory because the one he was used to was much bigger, much softer. 

he packed most of his books, carefully picking out the ones that tugged at the nostalgic parts of him, frayed along the edges after many years of re-reading, as well the ones that still had vibrant covers and stiff spines he hoped to finish. you noticed the leather journal he kept tied together– the ink-blotted pages bursting at the seams –sitting on the shelf before he tucked it into his box of personal belongings. it was his third one since living with you, all filled to every last page and used beyond ruin. the rest were hidden between his headboard and the wall. you pretended not to know, after stumbling upon them while changing his sheets.

closing the door to your home felt eerily empty. it looked the same as every day. the couch was cleaned and the floors swept. dishes rinsed and promptly put away. but with your lingering gaze your mind fixated on the dining table set for four, two adult pairs of shoes at the door, one pink backpack slumped on the hook of the closet door with an empty space below. your chest twisted at the lack of clutter, though it’d been like that for some time, with tsumiki and megumi growing older and cleaning up after themselves properly like you taught them. like you wanted. the pride you initially felt with those memories of parenting were becoming eclipsed with resentment and despair.

the ride to school was quick and familiar, megumi knew well what he was getting into after visiting there to train. satoru liked to call them little getaways from megumi’s civilian life, claiming he wasted too much time around non-sorcerers when he could be on missions with his ever-loving benefactor instead.

satoru, who was whining while he laid himself across the three seats in the back of your car. you’d banished him there for such a special occasion, and he threatened to transport himself to the school alone. an empty threat, at best. he didn’t want to miss this. 

megumi had sparred with the older students and found himself thrown around the field many times already. he knew his way to the infirmary by heart, he knew where gojo tucked away his most powerful curse-imbued weapons (that were supposed to be under the surveillance of higher ups), and knew what letter-number combination granted him the ginger chips nobody else seemed to like. 

you were glad he was comfortable. you were glad he would fall into routine easily after the repeated trips to jujutsu high and developing a rapport with his upperclassmen. you’d waited for the day that he’d truly be part of the jujutsu world and welcomed into a better suited environment for people like him. and you knew he would be great, he already possessed an incredible technique and wielded it like he’d been fine-tuning it since birth. far ahead from most kids his age, you were proud.

still, your gut was sinking, sinking, sinking into the floor with each passing second.

megumi picked his room in one of the far-away corners of the boys dormitory, leaving inumaki and panda heartbroken (panda said he would find a way to organize sleepover. megumi said he would drop out before that happened. inumaki cried– no, wailed at the rejection). yuuta fell into step with you, slipping one of the boxes out of your hands and insisting on helping instead. it was sweet, if it didn’t feel like he was ripping precious time away from you.

but you smiled, and granted his wish. megumi wasn’t complaining, he liked yuuta more than the others. it was a good chance for them to talk more. all of this, a chance, a new chapter, the rest of his life. the thoughts weighed on your shoulders with a disgusting strain traveling to your fingertips.

you were painfully aware you were in your own head, doing this all to yourself. he wasn’t going away, you would still be seeing him, more than you used to when he went to his other schools. he would always be here.

satoru found you in your classroom, while you were organizing the stationary with an unnaturally stiff composure. your arms were tense, he could see the muscles constantly flexing with each of your movements.

your jaw was clenching and unclenching again. you made a point not to look outside, where the second-years were training brashly after successfully moving their things back into their dorms. you made a point not to meet satoru’s dangerous stare as he shut the door to your classroom, as if it granted any privacy with the seven large windows running along the wall that showcased the hallway. 

“what are you doing all by yourself, beautiful?” his tone was soft and inviting, begging you to open up and let yourself fall against the cushion of his words. 

“um,” you exhaled, voice shaky. you scrunched your face to break apart the tension that had hardened your expression. “i figured i would get a few things ready for tomorrow.”

it took satoru’s long legs two-and-a-half strides to meet you at your desk, where you gently shut the drawer. there were a handful of dated photographs in there, signed with his name and the chicken scratch of two children. 

“it’s all ready, baby. we did that last week.”

(correction: you did it. he tagged along for the shopping trip).

“there’s just… a few things...” you mumbled, not finding the strength to finish your own sentence. 

satoru gently placed his hand on your shoulder, emitting inhuman warmth that spread across your skin. you leaned into him as he dragged his hand down your arm and intertwined your fingers with the care of handling fine china. his presence brought you solace, effortlessly bringing the walls down that you desperately wanted to wait until you got home to break.

he kissed the back of your hand and rubbed the skin. “you know you’re going to see him every day, right?”

it was embarrassing how well satoru knew you, knew your thought process like it was an extension of his own. he knew your doubts and insecurities, your fears and desires. he could predict the words before they came from your mouth, more in tune with the way you spoke than his mother tongue.

“mhm.”

“you know we’re going to be the ones chaperoning his missions, right?”

you closed your eyes and looked away. “i know.”

“do you remember when he said he’d like to go home some weekends, and have dinner?”

“he said that to be nice.”

“when has he ever been nice?”

you opened your eyes to glare at him, though he was right. megumi was not nice. he was polite. he was too self-aware for his own good, too perceptive of others and their emotions. in all the time that you’d known him, raised him, he made himself smaller for the convenience of others. he walked on his tiptoes for a year and a half so no one else would wake up because of him. he made his own breakfast and bit back his tears when he burned himself. he didn’t ask for things or food and didn’t offer his input unless asked directly. for some time, he was a ghost in his own home. 

it seemed as soon as the bits of his shell started to break off, he was being swept away from you by the jujutsu world, leaving you with looming fears that consumed your mind and disrupted your sleep for weeks.

satoru smiled, though it was weighed down with your sadness. “hey, he’s not going anywhere, you know that. just because you’re not driving him home everyday doesn’t mean he’s gone.”

it’s funny, it’s nearly the same speech he gave you when tsumiki started middle school. and when megumi followed those same steps.

tsumiki didn’t make it this far, though.

the thought makes your lip wobble again, and you bite it back pathetically.

“i know. i know that. it’s just that…” your voice cracked, and you shoved your head in your hands. your palms squeezed your eyes in a desperate attempt to stop the already-flowing tears. “he’s not my little boy anymore.”

satoru’s soothing hands pull you into a tight hug, and you don’t have it in you yet to move your hands from your face. his embrace makes you sob harder, louder as all your emotions from the last week begin to pour out at once. his chest rumbled with your cries, and he tucked you further under his arms as if to shield you from what was making you hurt so much. it was all you.

“baby…” he chuckled, without a hint mirth or mockery. he squeezed you with compassion and adoration. “you know that’s not true. he’s still pretty short, he’s got another growth spurt coming.”

a small laugh slipped through, but was quickly drowned out by your cries.

“he’ll be okay. he’s still here.”

he was so, so warm. he gently began to rock back and forth with you, the heels of your shoes gently clicking on the tile floor. a small hiccup erupted from you as you found the strength to wrap your arms around him, burying your face into his chest. the familiar thrum of his heartbeat welcomed you.

“i know, i’m sorry. i know he’s not leaving, or anything… i just… i thought i was ready.” you blubbered into his button-up. surely, there’d be two wet spots where your eyes were when you pulled away.

he swayed side to side with you, staring at the blackboard ahead of him. he nestled his chin on the top of your head, wondering if you could hear the cracks tearing through his heart. “it’s okay if you’re not ready. but you’re treating this like it's goodbye.”

“but what if we don’t get a goodbye?”

“okay, you really are overthinking this,” he pulled away from your embrace, your fingers still digging into the material of his shirt. he brushed away the hair covering your eyes, stuck to your skin by the wetness of your cheeks. streaks ran through your foundation and the corners of your eyes were smudged. “there you are. so pretty.”

it was silly how he believed he could make things better like that. it was silly that he was a little bit right.

“don’t think for a second i’ll let megumi be sent on a mission he can’t handle. he’s going to be fine.”

satoru’s love ran deep. for you, for megumi, for all his students. he fought curses everyday for you, rotted himself with his technique and stitched himself back up in a moment’s notice to fight for you. to come home to you. all of humanity be damned, those closest to him were the ones he fought for, and he would do everything in his power to preserve their lives.

he already towed the line with the higher-ups and their conservative rules and regulations, but he would tear them down if you asked. for megumi, he’d fight tooth and nail to see that he wasn’t being sent off on a mission ill-prepared. under his watch, things would be different for his students. 

you nodded meekly, wiping away your tears with one hand. “i hate when you’re right, toru. it’s really annoying.”

he smoothed down your hair and grinned. “i know, just let me have this one, though.”

his sweet murmurs filled your ears, along with the gentle shuffling of your clothes as you made yourself presentable again. you balled up your sleeves and patted the corners of your eyes gently, and he straightened out the hem of your shirt. it was wrinkled, a reminder of how harshly you clung to him.

you smiled at the water stains on his shirt now, and he claimed it was in need of dry cleaning anyway.

neither of you noticed the eyes of megumi and yuuta, both stuck in place at the very corner of the windows leading to the hallway. they had training staffs with them, megumi’s grip becoming tighter as he watched you wipe your eyes and knock your head into satoru’s chest lazily. your shoulders low, clearly drained from the amount you cried. 

yuuta was frozen, eyes flickering from you to megumi repeatedly. he found his courage in placing a hand on his shoulder, a feather-light grip. “hey, let’s go through the east wing. i’m pretty sure it’s faster that way.”

it wasn’t. but megumi nodded anyway, begrudgingly tearing his gaze from you and turning around with yuuta. 

you stared down the red light of the intersection with a blank face, blank mind. letting it all out of your system had successfully flushed out your emotions, taking the rest of your energy along with it. the car was painfully quiet, but no part of you wanted to listen to anything.

satoru was whisked away by yaga, being delivered another mission he swore would take less than a day. ‘less than twelve hours’, he promised to be back for megumi’s first day. he would make it.

it was dark, and you milked all the time you could on school grounds. speaking with yaga and shoko, running through the still-developing information of missions to be sent on. cleaning the classrooms. the lockers. stocking the teachers lounge. dusting the armory. before you knew it the curfew ushered the students into their dorms.

a ringtone broke through your thoughts, making you jump. though the tune was soft, the sudden intrusion made it much more shrill. you fumbled with your phone in the passenger seat, seeing megumi’s contact on the screen.

“hello?”

“hey, mom?”

it took everything you had left not to gawk. he said it before, sparingly in desperation for comfort. his voice was quiet, a near-whisper despite the fact he was alone in his dorm. like he was nervous.

“yes, megumi?”

“um… are you home?”

you wondered if he forgot something. “no, i’m still driving. are you okay?”

“i’m fine, i just… can’t sleep, i guess…” he trailed off, hoping for you to fill in the gap.

“oh. okay. did you take–“

“do you think you could pick me up?” he interrupted. “and i just stay home tonight? you could drive me in the morning.”

you were quick to dissolve into a smile, pointed at the streetlamp on the sidewalk. sadness struck your eyes but you were too occupied by the warmth of his question to feel it.

“yeah. i can be back there in a few minutes, just let me turn around.”

“thanks.”

he didn’t hang up. neither did you. the silence lived on for a few seconds.

“mom?”

“yeah?”

“… gojo’s on a mission, right?”

you laughed, your hand sliding across the steering wheel as you reouted back to the school. “yeah, megs, he’ll be gone tonight.”

“he’s back tomorrow?”

“yeah, we can leave before he gets home.”

“thanks.”

bonus:

satoru tiptoed through the entrance of your home, brushing his blindfold over his hair and peeling it off his head. he hung it up with his keys, lax arms nearly missing the hook on the closet door meant for him. it was beyond late, and he was tired, but he was home like he said he would be.

he bent down to tie his shoes, buffering momentarily as he caught a glance of well-worn sneakers at the front door. they were as clean as they could be, though scuffed rubber turning gray and the laces becoming frayed where they were tightened most.

satoru made a grunt in acknowledgement to no one but himself, as he tossed his shoes down. he glanced around the living space, cautiously bringing himself to each room with a curious itch to scratch. a third pair of shoes. both backpacks on the door. dishes for two placed on the drying rack. 

he was expertly quiet by nature, but found himself avoiding the squeaky floorboards on the stairs and all the way to the hallway. he was greeted with a blue sign, corners covered with dog stickers. the frilly handwriting of tsumiki warding off unwanted visitors with the phrase: “megumi’s room. keep out!!”

the door opened quietly, satoru pushing it open to the limit and stopping before it would let out an ungodly squeak. he insisted on never getting it fixed, knowing it bothered megumi.

megumi had his face shoved in his pillow, a desperate attempt to block out any light creeping through the crack of his bedroom door or the streetlamp just outside the window. he was always a light sleeper, always on edge, sleeping with his back to the wall so if something barged in the night he was ready. it was horrible he thought that way, you always said. 

his duvet covers were black and white plaid, per his request three years ago when he begged to be free of the puppy sheets. still, he seemed small, curled up in a ball. his face was released of the usual tension and his light breathing filled the room. for a moment, he was little again.

satoru smiled, taking a step back and closing the door gently.

#spleen writes #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk angst #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #jjk satoru gojo #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo fluff #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro x mom!reader #jjk gojo #jjk megumi #jjk megumi fushiguro #megumi fluff #mom!reader #satoru gojo fic #fushiguro x reader #megumi x reader

[missmeinyourbones]

LET ME LOVE YOU ANYWAY

a/n: mentions of alcohol and drunk reader, reader called sweet girl once, reader wears makeup and heels, satoru doing boyfriend duties

Satoru has been watching you fiddle with the strap of your heels for two and a half minutes now.

He'll give you some credit, as the heels are a bit clunky and the buckles a tad finicky. And yes, you are still drunk from your girl's night out. But two and a half minutes of watching you struggle can only be so entertaining.

He's itching at the seams for you to let him help you. On the opposite end of the couch and leaning on the armrest, you can barely sit up straight. He doesn't know how you even have the strength to fight him on this, but he shouldn't be surprised; your stubbornness tends to have a never-ending amount of stamina.

He tries again, softly motioning you to join him on his side of the couch, "C'mere."

He's met with the expected pushback when you whine, "Nooooo, I can do it."

"You can't, baby," he softly reminds you with a sigh.

You gesture to where your ankle rests on your opposite thigh. As if you're clearly proving him wrong, you exaggerate your movements, "I'm doing it right now."

He watches you get nowhere with the tiny buckles on the straps and allows himself to tiredly laugh.

"You're not."

Deciding enough is enough, he moves a cushion closer to you.

"Come here," he doesn't let you scurry away when he brings your foot to rest on his lap, carefully loosening the strap and unwrapping the silly shoe from your ankle.

Through the silence of the house and the drunken mumbling from your lips, he admires your heavy eyelids, how they flutter beneath their own weight like butterflies gliding in the spring.

His lips gently kiss your other ankle after finally freeing you from the contrasts of your heels. "You're allowed to let me help, y'know?" he whispers sweetly.

"I don't need help," you nearly hiss, removing your ankle from his grip and planting your feet on the floor again. "I'm plenty capable of taking my shoes off," you drunkenly lie.

And Satoru smiles at you, proud and bright when he nods.

"I know, but I like to do it, too."

He thanks his speed for your lack of pushback when he's able to scoop you from the couch and carry you to the bathroom. Plopping your deadweight on the sink and keeping a steady hand on your waist, he lets you get comfortable on the counter.

Your swollen feet sway as they dangle from the sink, and Satoru bites his tongue from any comment about you looking cute.

He holds up a bottle of what he knows to be your makeup remover, still going out of his way to ask, "It's this one, right?"

"No," you weakly lie.

Satoru sees right through you. "Yes, it is," he gently scolds. "Stop it."

You watch as he soaks a cotton round with the remover, something he's seen you expertly do about a million times before he brings it to your face and raises his eyebrows.

Your whining continues to commence when you dodge his gentle hands, "I don't need help, Satoru."

"I'll be gentle," he breathes.

"I'll kick your teeth in."

"What a sweet girl I have."

This continues for a minute or so before you get tired and malleable enough to just let him do as he pleases. With a final grumble from you, Satoru begins the gentle process of rubbing your skin.

He's cautious, meticulous around the more sensitive areas as he mimics your usual circular movements. He's extra careful when it's time to remove your eye makeup, watching you look up at him for him to gently tap your lids and whisper a soft, "Close 'em."

Remover turns to face wash which turns to rinsing and toner. And throughout the entire process, Satoru has a soft smile on his face, humming to himself as he admires both his work and your face.

"Such nice skin," he presses two fingers into your forehead. "What's your secret? Getting drunk and letting your boyfriend wash your makeup off?"

"No," you sleepily murmur, eyes closed at the relaxing touch, "he always forgets my moisturizer."

"No, he doesn't," Satoru chuckles. "He just likes to make you a little mad."

After eventually completing your full routine, something he will most definitely be expecting praise for in the morning, he softly rubs the remainder of moisturizer on your cheeks and gently smushes them together for good measure.

He uses the opportunity to plant a tender kiss on your lips, and he's thrilled when you only whine and don't push him away.

He smiles halfway through the kiss, pulling away to press a kiss to your cheek and tease, "Mmmm, tequila."

"Want me to brush?" you can barely open your eyes.

"Nah," Satoru shrugs, grabbing you beneath the thighs and scooping you off of the sink, "let's just go to bed already."

In bed, with your cold feet pressed against his calves and his warm hand resting comfortably against your abdomen, he feels you press a tiny kiss to his exposed bicep.

"Thank you for takin' care of me," you whisper, almost as if you're a bit embarrassed to be admitting it.

Tomorrow, you'll blame it on the cocktails consumed the night before, but Satoru knows you. Knows how hard it can be for you to let someone in, let someone help. And every single time, he's willing to fight for it. Willing to coo and purr at your hissed and fanged attempts to scare him off.

Satoru merely hums into your hair, letting himself close his own eyes and sink into the mattress.

"Thanks for lettin' me."

#gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo fic #satoru gojo fic #gojo fludf #satoru gojo fluff #gojo x you #satoru gojo x you

[cptnleviackerman]

Brother's best friend

Gojo Satoru x f!reader

Your brother's best friend has never been anything other than mean to you, so why has he turned up to your bedroom window with no invitation? content - 18+, oral (f receiving), fingering, possessive gojo, dubcon, overstimulation, mean gojo, slight yandere but not really, college au, finger sucking, cum tasting, petnames (angel, sweetheart, kitten, princess, baby), male masturbation words - 5.0k

brother's best friend!gojo who is always in your house during school holidays. practically living with you for weeks at a time, somehow not missed by his own family and always annoyingly welcomed by your parents—who offer to let him stay whenever he wants. 

brother's best friend!gojo who teases you mercilessly. always managing to think of new ways to insult you— your clothes, your hair, the movies you watch, and even the way you chew—but somehow never getting caught by your parents, who always see him as this golden boy your brother so happily brought into your lives.

brother's best friend!gojo who enjoys making fun of your taste in guys most of all. the first time you brought a guy home Satoru acted like it was Christmas come early. he never left your date alone, practically stuck to his side the entire dinner, asking question after question—faking friendly curiosity in front of your parents, but revelling in your dates obvious uncomfortableness at the probing and personal questions asked as soon as they left the room. 

brother's best friend!gojo who ensures you never bring the same date home more than once when he's around. knowing that when you walk your date out the door they'll say something in an awkward tone about how protective your brothers are, leaving you to explain,  actually I only have the one brother, the white haired one isn't related to me, a weird feeling of shame and guilt hanging over your head when your date never calls you back. 

brother's best friend!gojo who comes over while you're home alone, planning to fake ignorance and assure you that he really had no idea your brother wasn't home, but that he's happy to wait for him to come back—not wanting a pretty thing like you to be all alone. but who instead catches you fucking your ex-boyfriend—the one who you said to your brother was the biggest piece of shit you'd ever met. the one who you'd sworn you'd rather bite your own tongue off than ever see again.

brother's best friend!gojo who can't help but listen to the sounds of your moans—which he is confident are fake—through the door. pressing his ear against it's smooth surface and screwing his eyes shut. he can't help but picture your face contorted in pleasure, wishing he was the one fucking you. knowing that you would never need to fake it with him. 

brother's best friend!gojo who doesn't come around for almost a full three days after this. you remark to your brother about how the two of them must be in a lovers quarrel, but you can't help the unease that creeps up on you as the third day comes and goes with no visit—you don't care about him, not like that, but the lack of his annoying presence feels like it's left a hole in your house. 

brother's best friend!gojo who texts you out of the blue—his number saved into your phone under a very unsavoury name—asking if you could let him in. confusion clouding your mind as you head towards your bedroom door. the loud tap you hear against your window causing you to turn quickly on your heels and you don't know how you hadn't seen the shadowy figure loitering outside your window before now. 

brother's best friend!gojo who doesn't look like himself. his usual well crafted fake-but-doesn't-look-it bed hair is now unmade and unruly. the cocky half smile/ half smirk always plastered on his face has been replaced by deep bags under his eyes, a harrowed look on his face, and darting eyes. 

"Gojo…" your voice is unsteady. 

You were expecting the usual back and forth—the teasing, the mocking. You were confused by his appearance at your window, sure, but you've never seen him like this—so jumpy and insecure… it's unsettling you. 

"Don't fuck him again" Satoru's voice is low, so low that you almost don't hear him. 

"Wha—" 

"I don't want you anywhere near him again." Satoru keeps his eyes down, refusing to meet your gaze. His hands are deep in his pockets, and you can see his feet shifting. It's making you nervous. 

"Him… And you?… It's not right. You shouldn't have—I won't let you again—" 

He clears his throat, and the sudden loud noise startles you, making you take a shaky breath. Your ears had become too used to straining to hear the words Gojo was saying—his change in volume almost left your ears ringing, even if it was only a cough. You cup your hands together to try and subdue their shaking, and your jumpiness doesn't go unnoticed by the man in front of you. 

You try to speak again, willing your words to come out stronger than you feel. "What are you talking about?" 

"He doesn't deserve you. He's not right for you. You have to understand what I mean." Gojo's voice starts to rise as he reaches the end of his sentence.

He takes a step towards you, refusing to put up with the distance you are so clearly trying to put between the two of you. He reaches his hands out towards you, gripping your upper arms in a way that is almost painful. 

"The people you've dated, the ones who fucked you and never called you again, they don't deserve you. No one is good enough for you."

You grimace. The reminder of your failed attempts at love and the fuck ups you've let screw you is nothing new from Gojo, but something in his voice makes your heart race. The look on his face causes goosebumps to cover your skin. You can feel his fingernails digging into your flesh, the pain acting as a reminder that he shouldn't be here—your brother's best friend, the one who teases you and mocks you mercilessly, the one who doesn't care about you beyond being a punchline for his jokes—he needs to leave.

"Gojo, you have to go—"

"Don't call me that. I don't want to hear that name fall from your lips again—you call me Satoru from now on."

Your eyebrows knit together, and you wipe your palms against your t-shirt the best you can—a pointless effort to try and calm yourself down. You have no idea what has gotten into Gojo—Satoru—you inwardly correct yourself despite your confusion.

"What are you doing here?" You finally ask, your voice quivering as you do so, unable to stop your nerves from showing.

Satoru smiles, but it's still not his usual smile, his mouth contorts in a way that makes you want to shrink away from him—his tight grip on your arms making this impossible. It's unsettling, everything about him has seemed unsettling to you this evening. You want to run. Your regret at letting him in through your window threatens to swallow you whole, and yet… you can't look away from him. He still commands your attention, your focus, like he always does when he's in your house. Except this time it's different, you don’t feel safe with him, not exactly, but you know he’s not going to use his words to harm you—he's not going to call you names or make you feel insecure or mock your clothes. He’s mesmerising—you realise with a start—you’ve never been this close to him before, never allowing yourself to look at him with anything other than disdain. With his cocky attitude and his sneer wiped off his face, he's actually quite pretty. His eyes glow with an iridescent blue shine—you realise you'd only ever seen them through your own narrow glare, your harshness towards Satoru clouding your vision, never letting you see the true brightness of his eyes, only ever seeing what you wanted to see. The angles of his face make him even more alluring, the way in which every bone and sharp edge fits him perfectly—as if someone had spent time crafting him to be God’s most beautiful creature. 

Satoru watches you as your eyes glaze over, as if you were deep in thought about something—someone, he hopes. He notices when you absentmindedly run your tongue across your lower lip. He notices when your breathing changes pace, and when your hands fall limp at your side, the shaking finally subsiding. He watches all of these things happen, but what gets his attention the most is when your mouth falls open. 

He doesn't know how he's managed to stay away from you for this long. All those years he's spent teasing you and making you feel small, being friends with your brother, being welcomed into your family as if it was his own—he never imagined he’d be here, finally giving in to what he truly desires.

He remembers the first day he met you, your brother had given him warning that you’d be home, “just ignore my little sister, she's barely a year younger than us but she can be a real pain in my ass sometimes”. Satoru had thought nothing of it at the time, chuckling lightly as he stepped through your front door. He was ready to chill out and watch the game—on the couch your brother had been raving about for almost 3 weeks—a cold beer in his hand and his feet resting on the coffee table. But he had stopped almost dead in his tracks at the very first glance he got of you—your hair swishing behind you as you hurried about in the kitchen. 

You hadn’t heard the two of them enter the kitchen, too busy clearing up the final few freshly cleaned dishes you had washed. The small gasp you had let out had made it obvious you scared easily, and you turned quickly on your heels when your brother had cleared his throat. You had smiled ever so politely at Satoru when your brother had introduced him to you, in the way that people do when they meet someone for the first time, but Satoru could tell you were wary of him, even if he wasn't sure exactly where your hesitation came from. 

He had watched you and your brother converse, teasing conversation bouncing between the two of you—it was friendly, despite the slight contempt in your brother’s tone earlier. Satoru had leant against the doorframe while he watched you, he had found himself fascinated with how you moved. He couldn't take his eyes off of you, every movement you took, every step and stretch and smile had him entranced. 

It wasn't until you were on your way out of the kitchen that you finally spoke to him for the first time. He watched as you walked towards him, you had a plate of food in one hand, and your other hand had come to rest on your hip. Your eyes had narrowed as you looked at him, clearly bothered by his choice to lounge in the doorway.

“Hello…? Are you going to stand there all day? Or can I actually move around in my own house?”

Your brother had scolded you as you pushed past Satoru and headed towards the stairs. And you had stuck up your middle finger in return. Your brother had apologised for your behaviour, but his apologies had fallen on deaf ears, Satoru didn't care that you were rude, he didn't care that all you showed towards him in that moment was dislike, and he didn't care that he hadn't had a chance to properly talk to you. He knew one day he would have you—he needed to have you. Your obvious disdain for him would make the day you finally submitted all the more sweeter—he didn't care how long it took. 

“What are you doing here?” You ask again, your voice stronger than it was before.

Satoru turns his head, looking down at you as if the fact that you were still here was a surprise to him. You felt his fingers flex slightly, sending a shiver down your spine… He still had his hold on you, you began to wonder if he would ever let you go.

“I’m here to make you mine.”

He said it so plainly that it took you a second to register what he was saying. 

He wanted to make you his…? But why? He’d never shown any interest in you before. He’d never once left any evidence in your interactions that would’ve caused you to believe that he liked you, let alone that he wanted to make you his… whatever that meant...

“I don’t believe you…” You whisper, your voice so quiet that Satoru only caught your words because he was waiting for them.

“You don’t believe me?” Satoru’s tone is teasing, and he has a smirk on his face, but something about his words makes your breath hitch.

“No… You—you’ve never—you don’t—you aren't serious.” You take a breath. “You don’t like me, you barely tolerate me. Whatever the real reason you decided to climb into my bedroom tonight, it's not that…It can't be.”

“Why can’t that be the real reason, huh princess? You don’t think you’re good enough for me? Is that it?” Satoru doesn't wait for you to answer. “Do you seriously think I would be here right now if I didn't like you? All the things I've done for you…Do you really think it's a coincidence that none of your dates ever called you back after they met me for the first time? Do you think you would be invited to all of those parties on campus if I wasn’t there making sure every idiot jock and blonde bimbo knew who you were? All of the lecturers and T.As I’ve threatened to make sure you get the best grades possible…are you telling me you don't appreciate any of that? That I shouldn't have bothered with any of it…"

Satoru turns to leave, finally releasing you from his tight grasp, but he knows you won't let him get very far. There's no way you aren't dying to ask him what he meant by all of that. You need him to clarify. He's certain of it. 

You let out a small squeak, warmth beginning to spread from your face down to your neck. Unable to stop yourself, you take a step forward. 

"Wait…" 

You practically fall into Satoru's back, failing to notice that he hadn't got very far, too busy rushing forward to notice much of anything. You hear a low chuckle as he turns around, one of his hands coming to cup your face. Shock runs straight through you as he begins to gently rub his thumb across your cheekbone, his other hand now resting on your waist. The sharp difference of his hold on you makes your head spin, no longer is he harsh and rough like before, he's instead holding you as if you are the most fragile thing on earth. As if one fast movement would cause you to break in two.

"I'm right here, angel. I'm not going anywhere."

Satoru is blinded by his glee, he can't believe how well this is going for him. The fact that you were just the one chasing him…

"You needed me that bad, huh?" He means for it to come out teasing, but the need in his voice is evident, even to your surprised ears. 

Satoru doesn't waste one more second, he's waited long enough, all those years he's known your brother, all those years he's visited your house… if he doesn't get a taste of you now he knows he won't be able to stop himself from pouncing on you the next time he sees you, even if you're surrounded by your entire family. And that's probably not something they want to see, he thinks. 

You can sense something different about Satoru as he looks down at you, as if something just shifted inside of him. His eyes are dark, laced with hunger, and your eyes can't help but follow as he licks his lips. You let out a small gasp when you feel yourself begin to move, Satoru guides you gently, but with haste, back towards your bed. Your knees knock against the edge and Satoru lets you slip from his grasp, watching as you lose your balance and fall backwards onto your mattress. 

You scurry to the end of the bed opposite Satoru, trying to put some distance between the two of you, but your efforts are for naught. Satoru crawls toward you, closing the gap with little effort, until he's right in front of you again. He watches as you turn your head from side to side, looking for an escape route, he thinks, but he knows you won’t find one. 

His hands reach for your ankles, grasping them tightly as he pulls them backwards, shifting your entire body until you lie flat on the bed. He wastes no time, lying himself on top of you immediately, unable to suppress a groan at feeling your entire body under his. 

He attaches his lips to your neck, planting open mouth kisses all along your jaw and down to the base of your throat, you let out a whine at the contact and try and reach your hands toward his shirt, looking for anything to grip on to. Satoru notices your movement and grabs your hands with his own, still focused on kissing your neck, he manages to pin both your wrists down on the bed next to your head. 

“Please don’t try to move, kitten.” He pouts, breathing the words against your neck, and you feel a shiver run down your spine.

Satoru reattaches his lips to your neck, eliciting a soft moan from your lips. As if fuelled by your moans, Satoru presses himself against you, trying to relieve himself of the ache that is beginning to form just below his waistband. You whine when you notice what he’s doing, craning your neck you manage to see his hips moving as he rubs himself against your leg. You try to move your arms, riggling them in an attempt to free yourself, but to no avail, Satoru’s grip gets even tighter the more you move. 

You let out a shaky breath as Satoru moves his kisses further down your neck, he smiles against your skin when he feels you tense up. But just as he reaches your collarbones he pulls away, wanting to admire his work on your throat. 

You are covered in his marks, dark purple splotches paint your neck like you were nothing more than a canvas for Satoru. He gently traces the marks with his fingertips, moving the few fallen strands of hair that block his view. Pride swells in his chest, knowing that anyone who looks at you will be able to guess what you've been up to makes his cock throb. He presses himself hard against your leg, groaning loudly, and he bites his lip when he sees the look in your eye. 

You can't explain why, but hearing the noises Satoru makes from only pressing himself against you makes your whole body tingle. The realisation that you want to hear more sends a jolt of embarrassment through you, but your arousal outways any shame you feel. You arch your back slightly, aiming to press yourself closer to Satoru's cock, you can already feel the outline against your leg. He lets out another groan, this time looking you straight in the eye. He smiles when you look away, as if you hadn't fully realised what you were doing, or maybe you were just embarrassed, he thinks. 

“Do you like what you feel, princess?”

You nod, watching as Satoru sits up. He gently traces his fingers along the side of your face, before moving further down your body until his head hovers over your thighs. You suddenly feel self conscious about what you're wearing, and Satoru must notice—at the same time it dawns on you—that all you're wearing is an oversized t-shirt. You see him lick his lips, his hands coming to rest on your hips. His touch sends a shiver down your spine, and your legs shake ever so slightly. 

He locks eyes with you as his hands move under the hem on your t-shirt, the touch of his hands on your skin makes your heart beat faster. He hooks his fingers under the band of your underwear, pausing, before he begins to pull them off of you. You buck your hips to make it easier for him, and he whispers a small thank you. 

He discards your underwear someplace behind him, now too focused on your naked cunt to think much about anything else. He shuffles further back, pulling you with him until you are right at the edge on the bed. Satoru kneels in front of you, his hands resting on your thighs, as he bends his head his breath warms your skin, tickling you. You screw your eyes shut as his tongue comes in contact with your cunt, he smiles against you when he hears you whine at him, a breathy “move, toru” leaving your lips. But he wants to work slowly, he wants to focus on the noises you make, and try to figure out exactly how you like it. He wants it to be perfect.

You watch as Satoru’s hands grip your thighs, his fingers dig into your flesh. You let out a loud moan when he presses a hard kiss to your clit, and your eyes roll back when he uses his tongue, lapping up your juices from between your folds, the unfamiliar sensation makes you squirm. 

Your scent overwhelms Satoru’s senses, and he suddenly feels a new wave of want overcome him. His lips wrap around your clit, and he rolls it against his tongue. You purr underneath him, your body responding deliciously to his movements. 

The only noise in the room comes from Satoru slurping at your pussy, he works tirelessly, his head buried between your thighs, waiting for you to cry out his name again. He would do anything to hear you moan for him, but he doesn't have enough patience to wait for you to be comfortable enough to do so—if he has to work two, three, four times as hard to hear your pretty voice, he will.

Your eyes snap open when you feel Satoru’s mouth disappear from your clit, already missing the sensation of his mouth on you, your head turns, aiming down towards him when your mouth is met by one of his hands. He forces two of his fingers inside your mouth without warning, slipping them past your lips and pressing them down on your tongue. Your head moves almost instinctively, sucking and rolling your tongue against the digits with a confidence that Satoru reads as practiced ease. The thought of you doing this with someone else makes his chest burn, red hot jealously courses through his veins, making his head dizzy. 

His fingers disappear as fast as they appeared, and you whine at the sudden loss between your lips. But Satoru leaves you no time to complain, he forces his spit covered fingers past your folds, and he watches as they get enveloped in your warmth. His eyes roll back, and he bites his lip to stifle a groan. 

“Fuck—you're so tight, princess—shit.” 

He pumps his fingers into you frantically, his heart racing wildly because of the pace he's set himself. He's ruthless in his speed, and it makes your head spin.

It's not long before your legs begin to shake, your breath hitching as you draw closer and closer to the release you so desperately crave. Your whole body thrums with electricity, the way Satoru is touching you makes your mind cloudy, unable to think about anything more than the pleasure he's giving to you. His fingers fit perfectly inside of you, and you're sure he was made to be there. 

Your pussy squelches lewdly, and Satoru smiles, uncharacteristically soft, and not at all fitting for the situation he currently has you in. His eyes dance across your figure, watching your stomach spasm as he brings you closer to your orgasm. He feels you clench around his fingers, your breathing getting increasingly more rapid. Your eyes meet his and the look on Satoru's face makes you squeeze your eyes closed—as if not looking at him will make the oddly lovesick look disappear from his face.

“C’mon, baby—please—need you to cum now… need to feel you cum around my fingers, baby. Please please please.”

Satoru has no idea why he was begging you to cum, all the times he had pictured having you like this, he was always the one in charge. He was always the one to keep his composure, waiting for you to lose yourself within the pleasure he was giving you.

Something about his voice made the knot inside your stomach tighten. The need written on his face, coupled with despair with which he was begging for you to cum was too much for you. Your arms reached out, gripping Satoru's shirt tightly. You breathed his name over and over—torutorutorutoru—as if in prayer, letting your orgasm wash over you. Satoru cursed as you came around his fingers, your tight pussy never stopping him from pumping his fingers into you, helping you ride out your orgasm for as long as he could. 

You didn't know the last time you had come that hard—if you ever had, the amount of times you had to fake it for your exes was uncountable. Your chest heaved, your breathing still erratic as you let your eyes flutter closed. Satoru had slowed down his movements, removing his fingers from you with a pop! 

He brought his hand up to his face, letting your scent waft over him. He licked his lips, drawing his tongue across his fingertips before letting his mouth drop open. He slipped his fingers inside, groaning as he did so. But the mere remnants of your cum on his fingers was not enough. He needed more.

He dropped back to his knees without a thought, hands gripping your thighs even tighter than before, causing you to open your eyes. You were unsure of what he was doing, but before you could ask, or take a look, his tongue was lapping up the juices from your pussy. 

All you can hear are the noises Satoru was making against you, your own moans are quiet in comparison to his. He groans against your cunt, and desperate for some friction he grabs a pillow that had fallen from your bed and stuffs it between his legs. He slurps all the mess you'd made from your previous orgasm, making sure not a single drop was left untasted. 

Your hands dart straight to his hair, gripping the strands tightly between your fingers. You try to move his head, desperate to give yourself some reprieve from his unfaltering assault on your already overstimulated pussy. But he is too strong. His head burys itself deeper between your legs, focusing now on your swollen clit. He sucks the bud into his mouth, planting kisses and rolling his tongue across it mercilessly.

The pillow between his legs was not forgotten, and amidst the wet noises coming from your pussy you are able to hear Satoru's own moans. He thrusts himself against the pillow's material, rolling his hips and giving his rock hard cock some long awaited attention. 

As he got himself closer to release all he could think about was how desperately he wanted his cock inside you. He wanted to paint you with his cum, mark you as his, make sure you never thought about letting anyone else inside his pussy ever again. 

He groans at the thought, and shivers rock your body. Tears threaten to spill from your eyes as Satoru continus his brutal assault on your clit, your hands still tightly gripping his hair but you could feel your strength diminishing the closer you got to your second orgasm. Broken sobs and whispered whimpers are all that escape your throat, your mind is scattered, an overstimulated mess. Satoru could not have been more thrilled at your state, only lifting his lips off of you for a second to praise your behaviour.

“You're doing so well for me, sweetheart. Letting me wreck your pussy like this—hhhng fuck—gonna reward you, baby—shit—we’re gonna cum together, okay?”

All you could do was nod weakly and let out a quiet hum to answer Satoru's question. Your whole body was shaking, your legs were completely out of your control, and Satoru considered himself lucky you hadn't accidentally hit him in the head because of how much you were moving. 

He smiles against your clit, your overstimulated moans coupled with the tears he knew were falling from your eyes brought him hurtling towards his own orgasm. It took all the strength he had to focus on making you finish, his thrusts against the pillow becoming more sloppy and his moans getting louder and louder as he sucked and nipped at your sensitive clit. 

Your arms jerk against his head, falling down to land on the mattress next to you, as your breaths shortened Satoru was certain you were about to cum, a cry from your lips solidifying this suspicion—“mmcumminhgg”.

Satoru's eyes rolled back, “me too, sweetheart—fuck—cumming with you, cumming with my needy slut.”

Your eyes squeeze tightly shut as you come for the second time, but you could feel Satoru spasm against your abused cunt. He whines from below you, still sucking your clit, while he painted the inside of his boxers with ropes of his cum. 

Your body shocks begin to ease as he moves his mouth and begins to plant kisses along the inside of your thighs, but your legs still feel wobbly and your head is still spinning from how powerful your orgasm was.

Satoru drags himself onto his feet, momentarily standing before flopping his body on top of yours. He shifts until he is comfortable, burying his head in your neck and breathing in your scent.

“You're so perfect. My perfect, perfect girl. I love you so much—god—yes, I do.” Satoru breaths, the words barely louder than a whisper. “You're mine now, I am never gonna let you slip outta my fingers, never gonna let anyone else touch you.”

#this took me so long to finish #but im so glad I finally did because i love it so much #he's so... #uhgggggh Iwant him #probably will write more in this vein because it was so fun hehehw #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #gojo satoru fic #satoru gojo fic #gojo satoru smut #satoru gojo smut #sage.fics

[chosos-mascara]

gojo's bride

𝙨𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙪 𝙜𝙤𝙟𝙤 𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 - as part of the ryomen clan, your life revolves around organised crime. when your father tells you you're destined to marry naoya zen'in, you're left with little choice but to run.

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 - mafia au, violence, arranged marriage, guns, killing/shooting in one scene, you're on the run, bounty hunter toji, marriage

side characters: suguru, sukuna and toji

5.4k words

Throughout childhood, an image of marriage is painted by your family. A contract between soulmates; a display of love to a person. Notes of a traditional wedding decorated with chairs of close friends and relatives, smiles wide and eyes glassy. Or, maybe you were better suited to a romantic elopement followed by a getaway, littered with intimate moments before announcing yourself a wife. In the end, the outcome is the same, one drilled into you by your parents since a young age. Perhaps while innocent, you had indulged within the images of a princess-like gown and florals winding around an ornate staircase - though with age and your growing understanding of your father's business values, you'd understood this wasn't a day to look forward to. 

When those in your clan would mention a prospective husband, someone your father would pick by hand, your heart would race excitedly, hands grasping over your chest as you swooned in adoration. There had been a semblance of what you'd pictured your future husband to look like, though that had since dwindled. When hitting twenty, reality setting in that this was another thing you would not experience normally, you tried to push the idea away. To your family, you were a pawn, and your marriage would be nothing other than an advantage to them; because when born as a woman within the world of Japanese illegitimate business, there were more hurdles than most. Your life had been seemingly filled with one sacrifice after another, and marriage was looking to be the largest one yet. 

Which is why, a courthouse wedding planned only twelve hours prior hadn't been what you'd envisioned. Despite the loss of formality and tradition there had still been anxiousness bubbling within the pit of your stomach, hands clammy as you took hold of the man you'd barely known while reciting an unbreakable oath. Instead of a dress, you'd been in cargos and a long sleeved top, though Gojo had displayed a little more care over the ordeal - a crisp blue shirt and slacks, black lenses over his eyes an a Rolex on his wrist. He slid the ring over your finger, delivering vows that had meant very little to either of you, and you'd repeated the action moments later, heart racing when the officiant had announced that you were now bound by law. Geto and Sukuna signed the certificate, and the four of you left to return to the shitty apartment you'd been hiding within for the past week. A weight had been lifted, but a new one had only taken its place. 

"Now, the reason we're gathered here is due to an important announcement within the family." Your father spoke, lips curving upward into a smile as his eyes darted to your own. It had been obvious when your parents had requested your presence for dinner there had been an ulterior motive, with yourself being left alone unless there had been news, or you'd been in need of discipline. It had usually been the latter, with being in your twenties and having a powerful father while being rebellious to his rules, there had been frequent fall-outs. Though within the moment his cold stare met yours, you'd understood exactly what he'd been about to say. 

"I've picked a partner for my daughter, finally." Through his thin smile, jagged teeth had shown. "Next week, she'll become a Zen'in, and our clan will reap the benefits of being united with one of the top three." For such a disgusting statement, he spoke with confidence, watching through beady eyes as the chatter of close and distant family members erupted, though mostly from excitement.  "What?" The quiet protest fell between conversations of others, any further objections died on your tongue. He looked down at you, a vacant stare before continuing. Your gaze fluttered to your mother to ask for a semblance of empathy, yet you were met with the same ruthless eyes. 

"Naoya Zen'in, my future son in law, will aid in managing business, merging with his father's company." The name had rang alarm bells through your already cascading mind, oblivion on the horizon. Naoya, a bigger misogynist than any man within your clan, a person referred to as scum by anyone with half a brain. 

There had been an uncomfortable cough opposite you, your panicked gaze meeting the dark eyes of your cousin. He's raised a brow, placing serviette beside plate as his head tilted toward large wooden doors - the only exit from the dining hall. You took a moment to think, mouth agape and heart racing, before standing. A large push through your daze of emotion had been all it had taken to activate the flight response, leaving your seat to run toward your room.

Once your head had hit pillow, tears flooded through your eyes, face plush to soft sheets in order to drown out the sobs raking over your body. The Zen'ins had been one of three leading clans within the mafia, alongside Kamo and Gojo. Three lineages known to be the dirtiest of all, though due to honor had been treated as if royalty. You'd heard Sukuna speak of Naoya in passing, and his disgust with the man he'd only met in passing.

"Hey," Sukuna's voice filled the air between muffled cries, body shaking and breaths heavy as you'd turned to face the figure walking through the room. Shifting, you sat with your back against the headboard, a pillow in your lap as the mattress dipped to allow space to your only friend. "I'm so sorry-" Sukuna began, bringing a hand to his face and sighing. "This is bad."

The weight of the situation before you had grown heavier when your cousin had admitted his own alarm. Sukuna feared no one, and had taught you to follow him on the same path of callousness; jobs executed with little remorse or care. Your partnership had resembled siblings to outsiders in the sense that you'd been family no one would cross, even if Ryomen had been a relatively new name within this world. With the company founded by your grandfather, there had been just enough time to spread word of the name, though when comparing feats to that of Gojo or Kamo, Ryomen had appeared ant-sized. 

"I can't," You stuttered over words between labored breaths, a harsh squeeze over the pillow clutched within your grip, pressing into your stomach. "Sukuna, I really can't do this."  Brown eyes scanned over you once more, concern riddled within the pupils, down turned eyebrows creating a crease at his forehead. He hadn't seen you like this before; distraught, scared. Since childhood, the pair of you had pushed emotion from your psyche, swearing vow to be honest only with the other. Each of you had promised to be the only person to trust in the harsh world you'd been brought into. In adulthood, you'd met with him significantly less, and Sukuna had built a name for himself as the Ryomen with the dirtiest hands. Yet, the vow would not be broken.

"There's a place downtown," Sukuna's voice had been hushed, a sigh from his lips before continuing. "Tonight, we'll leave. You can stay until I find a way to get you out of this mess." The statements he'd spoken had been frantic as he'd tried to make sense of the visions in his head - if he would've simply been born with more intelligence, perhaps he'd have been better aid when you'd needed him most. 

"What's that going to do?" You laughed through helpless sobs, rolling eyes at the promise he'd made - though with trembling lips and fingernails scratching anxiously over the skin of your arm, your body had demonstrated the true terror within you.  "Dad's not going to cancel a deal halfway through, not with the Zen'ins." Reiterating your point, you tried to push him away from an ill-planed escape, however much you'd needed him to give his all.  "We'll figure this out, okay?" Tattooed fingers smoothed through his hair, dullness within his gaze as he watched over your deflated form.

It had been midnight when you'd left. With only a backpack for belongings, you'd stuffed it to the best of your ability before slipping through the bedroom window, prayers whispered as you'd absconded the building. Hopefully, your family would notice your disappearance after you'd left their surveillance lines. 

Sukuna had waited a block away, engine running as he'd awaited your presence in the passenger side. It hadn't taken much pleading before Suguru had agreed to house you, only having to hear the Zen'in name before allowing you to seek refuge, though he couldn't deny his concerns of being found even while in a safe house. After holding his breath while waiting for you, you'd finally emerged, slumping against the passenger seat. Sukuna had now been in control of your fate, shifting into drive. 

The journey hadn't been long, reaching the building within a half hour, though concern riddling your mind upon entry. A run down apartment block, ivy curving into single-pane windows to grow along the white-washed brick inside, cracked tiles beneath your feet left unwashed and elevator jolting upon movement. Your travels had been led mostly in silence, each remaining expressionless despite the mental hellfire you were wading through. 

Stopping at a wooden door, a brass 206 nailed into the middle of the wood, Sukuna had only had to knock once before it had opened. Stomach dropping, you stepped back, frantically looking to your cousin to voice your shock and betrayal when seeing the blue eyes behind the door. It hadn't made sense why Sukuna had brought you to a Gojo hideout - one of the leading clans alongside the Zen'ins. 

"Don't worry." The familiar brown eyes met your own, stern countenance and monotone voice as he'd placed a hand over your shoulder, a light push forward. "Satoru isn't like his family."  After Sukuna's reassurance, the Gojo had opened the door wider, stepping to the side to accommodate both you and your cousin as you passed through. The apartment's interior hadn't reflected the halls outside, being well decorated and clean. Following Sukuna through to the kitchen, you watched as he seated himself at the table, inked hand reaching to his pocket to fish out a carton of straights, pulling one from the pack and setting it to his lips. The amber of his lighter emerged after only one flick of the steel, lighting the end of the cigarette and taking a drag. 

"This is Gojo Satoru." Sukuna broke the silence, gesturing toward the white haired male you'd met with moments prior. The smoke drifting upward from the end of his cigarette wafted as he waved his hand, stopping as a painted nail pointed behind you. "That's Geto Suguru." Turning, you were met with a new face, though a name you'd recognised. 

Both males introduced had been tall, differing builds yet similar black ink etched into their skin. Satoru had been lanky, yet his height and demeanour gave an aura you hadn't often experienced, one of importance. Gojo's limbs had been decorated, though the most notable artwork had been the clan mark of Gojo: an eye on the right side of the neck. An immediate sign of strength for those who understood its meaning. Geto had been much broader, manner radiating from physical build rather than an intense aura. His physical strength had been clear. 

"Goes without saying that you can't leave the apartment." Sukuna's words had been low, eyes fixed to you with an intimidating stare. The heartfelt and honest personality he'd shared with you had switched when in the presence of others, Sukuna instead watching through an emotionless gaze as you reacted to his words. The instruction had been one that had your brow furrowing and arms crossing, though Geto had interrupted before you'd had the chance to counter.  "Naoya Zen'in is dangerous." Geto leaned back on a countertop, both hands supporting his weight as he continued. "Not because he's strong - it's because he's weak. People follow him only through fear." Geto shifted, eyes straying to the floor before meeting yours once more. "Naoya doesn't kill - he tortures, molests, creates hell for those who don't give him his way. Even then, he's too cowardly to do anything with his own hands." Suguru's statements had your blood running cold, a lump forming within your throat. 

"If he finds you, it's over." Sukuna continued from his friend, another puff of smoke passing his lips. He leaned back, usual stoic expression saddening you after the anomaly of sympathy he'd displayed earlier that evening.  "It's not just your life on the line right now; if they know we're involved, there's consequences-" One thing you'd despised throughout your life had been being treated as if a child, awfully long explanations from those who'd considered themselves smarter than you; almost always describing words of common sense.  "I know." Quick to interject, you'd stopped Geto's lecture, straightening yourself. "I'll stay here." You met your cousin's eyes as he stood from the chair, opening the window situated behind the sink to throw the smoked-cigarette through, closing it once discarded. 

Sukuna had departed shortly after, cautious as not to raise suspicion. Between his few visits, you would be on no-contact, careful not to expose your whereabouts to your own family, or any clan allied with them. After twenty hours, your parents had reported you missing, stomach churning when details of a bounty had been explained in grueling detail by Gojo. He'd sat through an uncomfortable conversation within his own clan's meeting, reciting the disdain from the Zen'ins when the topic of Ryomen had been brought up in passing. 

It had been three days before Sukuna had visited once more, tense body radiating nothing other than intense stress. He'd attempted to appear un-phased by the events surrounding you, but when seeing the tired eyes and hunched back, you'd understood he'd been suffering. He'd slumped down in the kitchen chair once again, lighting up a cigarette before beginning to formulate words. The actions had mirrored that of your first evening in confinement, a feeling of deja-vu as he exhaled a cloud of smoke. 

"They're getting restless." He spoke, deep voice much rougher due to lack of sleep and an increase in his smoking habit. Gojo sighed, taking a seat beside him. You fiddled with your thumbs above the table, helpless to the strains both you and your cousin had faced. "Sukuna." Speaking his name had caused his eyes to flicker up and land to your expression. "I don't think there's anything we can do." His stop-off at the apartment had been limited, agreeing between the four of you that his visits should not exceed ten minutes. His departure had grown closer with every passing second, but a conclusion had yet to be found. 

"We'll find something." His reassurance had fallen to your deaf ears, instead of bringing comfort, his statement had instead made you feel as if your concerns were brushed off. He'd began to slip away, leaving yourself seated at the table, still helpless to the world surrounding you. There was nothing you could do in the small apartment, even if you'd wanted to aid in finding a loophole, or a solution. 

The following morning had marked four days missing, in which you'd grown increasingly depressive and bored. The new roommates you'd gained had often left for jobs and abandoned you to your own devices - which had been daytime television and chores. Being on the run had meant you were unable to use a phone or computer, and being alone most of the time had eradicated the chance of passing time through conversation or games. 

On the odd occasion only one of the males had been home, there had been one you'd preferred to the other. Gojo's presence had felt much greater than Geto's (even if he'd been more annoying). Gojo had at least made attempts at conversations. When overcoming the sense of pity Gojo had displayed toward you, he'd been pleasant to talk with, speaking of shared interests such as movies and music. Gojo had been passionate, often becoming excitable when remembering certain scenes or moments within his favourite media - though he could become equally as shut-off. There was a darkness within Gojo you knew he'd held close, and when childlike wonder had worn off, there was a very different person beneath. 

Geto had been mostly silent, though you could feel the heavy judgement through his body language. His gaze had been heavy on your skin, eyes narrowing with each movement and shoulders tense. It had been clear Geto did not trust you, and had more reluctance toward befriending you than Gojo had. 

Bringing a damp garment to hang over metal pole, you threaded fabric through the bars of the indoor clothes-horse, hanging them to dry. Much of your time spent in the apartment when both men had been home had been within the kitchen, mostly as not to burden the others with your presence. Though as you grabbed another shirt to dry, you'd noticed a tall figure at the door. 

"Are you doing laundry?" Gojo questioned, shoulder pressed up to the frame as he watched your movements. You nodded, returning back to the task at hand. "My bag was small so I've run out of clean clothes." Exhaling, you drooped the cotton over, straightening out a few creases. He smirked, finally pushing himself from the wood to waltz toward the cupboard, pulling a bag of sweets from a shelf and tearing it open. Placing a hard-boiled candy between his lips, he gestured the bag toward you.  "Want one?" The query had been muffled and accompanied by a few clicks of the sweet against his teeth. You shook your head, a small smile as if to thank him before he'd shrugged and brought the bag back toward his chest. 

Instead of leaving, Gojo had seated himself at the table, the perfect view to the chore you'd been partaking within. His eyes had burned into you, yet you'd attempted to continue as usual, facing away from the blue eyes to push cotton over wire. But after hanging another garment, you sighed, head over shoulder to lock your gaze once more. 

"Am I entertaining you?" He hadn't replied until you'd finished, your body turned to face him fully, eyes locked onto yours as he shrugged, a crack of the candy between his molars.  "Never done it." He commented nonchalantly, picking another sweet from the bag. The rustling lasted a few seconds before he was back to eating, a dramatic exhale from his nose.  "That's cause you were a trust-fund baby." Walking toward him, your bare feet tapped against the tiled floor as you brought an arm upward, fingers outstretched and sight locked onto the bag within his hand. Just before you'd been able to dive a hand into the plastic, he moved it to the side, leaving your fingertips bare. 

"Feisty for someone who's living in my apartment." He commented, blue eyes narrowing as he watched you roll your eyes yet admit defeat through your gestures, instead flopping down on the chair beside him. You sat in silence for a few moments, eyes wondering to the window above the sink - the only window within the apartment that hadn't been covered by curtains and allowed some semblance of light to cascade through. Although you'd appreciated this, there had still been some annoyance to the reminder of the outside world, and how you'd been unable to step foot within it. 

The fifth day, you'd finally brought yourself the courage to ask. 

At the table during breakfast, the opportunity had arisen in which you had both men seated with you, coffee situated before each body.  "Can you bring me shopping today?" The request would likely be denied, a faint memory of Geto's obvious distrust and worry that you'd be seen and captured if stepping foot outside. But, you'd hoped that being on the outskirts of Tokyo, you were unlikely to be recognized, and with both men beside you, you'd be well-protected. Perhaps the idea had been completely idiotic, and when met with Geto's stern expression and furrowed brow, you'd understood the likelihood had been slim to none. 

"Well," Gojo had began first as expected, the less stern presence easing your anxiety. "We're meeting Sukuna first-"  "She's not coming." Geto had been quick to shoot the idea down before Gojo had allowed a semblance of hope to form. He stood, bending over the table to gather the plates from breakfast. As he leaned across, his shirt had lifted upward, revealing a handgun against his stomach that he'd had tucked into his trousers. You hadn't allowed your sight to linger too long on the weapon, though it had crossed your mind when pleading with him. "I'll keep my hood up, please Geto-san." You bowed your head, squeezing eyes closed while trying desperately to find an excuse. Swallowing back your pride, you continued. "I need tampons." 

You hadn't looked up until you were sure Geto's expression would have softened, though when returning your gaze upward, he'd been visibly taken aback, eyes wide and lips parted.  "Whaddya say Geto-san?" Gojo's added emphasis on the term had caused you to outwardly cringe, a reminder of one of the lower moments in your life.  "Be quick." Short and spiteful, yet the words you'd wanted to hear most. You'd fought to hide the growing grin across your face, undeniably shocked by the permission you'd been granted. Gojo laughed at the display, hand languidly laying itself upon your shoulder before giving you a light shove. "Get your coat, sweetheart." 

When approaching the pink haired Ryomen, you'd expected a foul expression, rant, or some form of physical punishment - yet instead he'd remained still, face unreadable. He'd been leaning against broken brick, cigarette in hand, pushing himself from the back-wall of some run-down establishment to stand upright. Seeing him like this had feared you more - Sukuna wasn't one to be lax over broken rules. There would be a significant reason he hadn't reacted to your presence. 

"She insisted-" Geto had began his defensive speech, though had stopped when Sukuna had raised a hand with the shake of his head. Holding the half smoked cigarette had been bloodied fingers, cuts decorating pale knuckles. "Probably better she's here for this." The words had your chest tightening, drop within your stomach when your gaze lingered over the wounded hand, being left to imagine the face that had been on the other side of his fist. "They've got a bounty on you. Saying we owe them money - the Zen'in's own you now." 

There hadn't been long to process his statement as he'd taken a step forward, another drag of his cigarette through stiff lips. "They've got Toji on her." 

Although you hadn't understood the weight of this comment, you could feel the men beside you tense, a quick glance toward Geto telling you all you'd needed to know. His skin had paled, and eyes widened. 

"Are you armed?" The question had added mass to your shoulders, a realization that your freedom had been coming to a close. Toji would have to be bad for all three men within your vicinity to be uncomfortable.

"Sukuna, we can't-" Eyes watering, you'd traced over the handgun tucked within your waistband, metal cooling trembling fingertips. "You can't do anything. This is it." 

Sukuna shook his head defensively, quick to begin a bitter reply and deter you from a path of righteousness. Though, the pop of a gunshot had taken stage before he'd had a chance to stutter more than a syllable, hands flying toward belt. Your fingers wrapped around the grip of the weapon you hadn't intended to use as you searched the alleyway for a body, adrenaline fueling your faster reaction time. Two men had stood at the entrance, the taller of the two aiming his own pistol in your direction. As he took steps toward you, the sunlight had hit his face, revealing a tilted smile, lips kissed by a thick scar. 

"Hands up, pretty girl." His voice had been rugged and deep, teeth bearing as he'd awaited your movement. You'd hesitated before raising both hands, persuaded only when his friend had taken a step forward, shotgun between his hands aimed toward Geto, who had been stood closest to the alley's entrance. 

"Toji. She's not armed." Sukuna's monotone voice didn't waver as he'd glanced at his allies. He'd hoped his lie would pass - you could sense his tension if the other's hadn't. "Ryomen. This your cousin?" Toji exhaled in amusement. "Been looking for her. Healthy bounty on your head, kid." His laughter had been entwined with malice, blood running cold as you'd met with green eyes. 

"You hate the Zen'ins. What changed?" Sukuna had asked, though had been shut down through Toji's quickfire response.  "Money's money. Hand her over, 'n we'll let you live." He'd used his left hand to usher you toward him, jagged smile increasing the panic you'd felt frozen by. 

Sukuna had withdrawn his own weapon, and Toji's expression soured at his movement. 

It had been a split second decision. 

You pulled your pistol from your jacket, aiming toward Toji's chest and pulling trigger. His eyes had widened in shock as he'd stumbled backward, wounded. It hadn't been fatal, though enough to stun him as your barrel aimed toward his partner.  His body had fallen backward much faster than Toji's had, a clear display of you accuracy. Before the black haired half had time to react, you'd ran, left hand instinctively grabbing hold of Sukuna's wrist. 

Only when Sukuna had slumped against the kitchen table, drops of blood dripping over the aged wood, had realized he'd been wounded. Your eyes set over the bullet hole in his bicep, a crimson patch darkening his jacket sleeve. 

"You were shot?" Your concern had been evident as the question had came to fruition through a concerned shout. He'd smiled in amusement, a gentle shake of head and pained laugh through chest.  "When you shoot someone who's aiming a gun, they'll pull the trigger." There was a tightness in his voice as Gojo had pulled his arm through the final layer of clothing, revealing the injury over skin. Geto had already placed a few items over the kitchen table, latex gloves stretched over hands after pushing his sleeves back, inspecting the wound. 

"Satoru, tourniquet." With Geto's voice quiet, Gojo disappeared for a brief few moments before re-emerging with a tie in hand, wrapping it over Sukuna's upper arm and pulling it tightly. "You're lucky that Zen'in had started to stumble before he shot, or you would've had Sukuna killed." 

"Zen'in?"  "He doesn't like the name, goes by Fushiguro. But, he's a Zen'in." Gojo explained while taking a seat at the table. Sukuna had leaved forward, wincing as a needle threaded through the wound.  "And, you're lucky there was an exit wound." Geto had added to the statement. "Though, your quick thinking likely saved one of us - so thanks, I guess." It had been obvious that the gratitude had pained him to say, though you'd accepted it anyway. 

"Do you think they'll find me soon?" You questioned, picking at the hem of your shirt as Geto finished the stitching. The fact you had little control over the outcome of both you life and your allies lives had irked you, a heaviness residing in your chest.  "It's likely they're already narrowing it down - Toji will tell them what he knows if they offer him enough money."  "You should just give me over, Sukuna. Get the money." A half joke, an attempt to lighten the mood. Though, when the tired, annoyed eyes had met your own, you'd realized the words had only hurt him more than intended. 

"What if you returned home with a husband?" Getou's abrupt inquiry had caught you off guard, but you considered the scenario nonetheless, fighting the urge to question why he'd asked, instead manifesting an educated answer.

"My father would have him killed." You spoke with a sourness, eyes remaining to cling to the floor. His attempts at a solution mirrored thoughts you'd had over the past week, though no fix had been found. The only options you'd had were to remain in hiding, or to accept your future as a Zen'in, benefiting everyone other than yourself. 

"What if you married someone they couldn't kill?" His suggestion left you dumbfounded, a muddled flurry of stutters as you'd exhibited your confusion to his ask. "Good luck finding someone powerful and willing to marry me." 

A person the Zen'ins couldn't touch would be a rarity within this world. Now your name had been made known to them, your place as a pawn in the Ryomen and the Zen'in's game, there had been an impossible chance of escape. You were raised purely for the benefit of your clan.

"I know someone." Geto's comment pulled you from your thoughts, another bought of self-deprecating laughter and rolling eyes shot toward him. There had been a glimmer of hope within your mind, yet you wouldn't display it to the men before you, instead residing back into refusal to protect your own ego. If you'd taken his words as banter, you would suffer less pain than to cling onto the premise of false-hope. 

"Satoru." Geto stated, gesturing to the pale, white haired and blue eyed friend beside him. Gojo's reaction had reflected your own; bewilderment. The brunette glanced between the two of you as you'd remained in mutual silence, awaiting his explanation.  "Satoru, think about it." Your eyes met Gojo's briefly before he'd returned his attention to his friend. "You'll be in her position soon - the strongest of you family and heir of Six Eyes; do you think your father will die before you give him a grandson to continue the business?" His theory had weight to it, but you brushed him off, watching Gojo's expression change from confusion to thought. "Geto, come on-" You began, voice gaining his attention. 

"I'll do it." Gojo spoke through upturned lips, both gazes returning to settle over his face. "I couldn't turn down the opportunity to mess with affairs that weren't mine to begin with - and fucking with my family is an added bonus." His playful grin paired with the prospect of being legally bound to him had sent heat through your body, mouth ajar while you'd lost yourself within the vision of a wedding day between yourself and Gojo Satoru.

"Gojo, this is serious." You began, narrowing your expression when looking into his own. "This is your future on the line." You took a sharp breath inward. "Not to mention, marrying me would mean having children down the line-" The rant had started, and Gojo had allowed a playful smirk to etch over his features.  "I'd be happy to fu-" His interruption was much to your distaste, the unwanted suggestion causing your stomach to churn.  "Use your brain for a minute and think about this as an adult!" The sudden outburst caused his eyes to widen before relaxing, mouth still curved upward as he leaned into the back of his chair.  "I've already decided, sweetheart. We'll go to the registry office tomorrow - Suguru and Sukuna can be our witnesses."

For a marriage planned with less than a day prior, it had been executed with ease. The four of you had been brought into a small room, a registrar stood to your left as you'd taken Gojo's hands within your own. As he'd held your fingers between his, a cheap ring Sukuna had sourced from a nearby jewelers slid over your finger, you'd swallowed back your anxieties and listened as he'd recited his vows. 

You'd repeated the action, his calloused hands maintaining the gentle contact between your own as you had spoken much more timidly than he had. Though you'd done so with some reluctance, you had looked into his eyes as you'd repeated after the registrar, a fluttering in chest. Even if this wasn't real, nor was it love, there was some form of excitement within your fear. Though, you wouldn't tell a soul. 

After only ten minutes, you'd left bound by law' a much larger meaning within your families than to yourselves. From this day forward, you were to be labelled as a Gojo. You had expected that crippling weight to ease as you held the wedding certificate in your palm, yet somehow, it had just changed into a new anxiety. 

You had gone against your parent's wishes, as had Satoru, and for that, you knew there would be a cost. 

reblogs and comments help creators more than just liking <3

a/n: after posting the teaser for this in MARCH, i have finally finished it!! i hope you enjoyed :,) i'm putting tags below, i'm so sorry if you forgot about this and are confused by the notif !!

tags: @ritsatoru @tomiokas-lunchbox @outrofenty @cherryblossiren @thisbicc @obitohno

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru jjk x reader #jjk x reader #satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #jjk fic #satoru fic #gojo fic #gojo satoru fic #satoru gojo fic #jjk fanfic #jujustsu kaisen x reader #gojo jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fic #jujutsu kaisen fics #anime x reader #jjk gojo x reader #jjk gojo fic #gojo marriage

[allicat0]

hi there! i absolutely loved ur other fan fic even tho i didn’t know the character. made my pussy throb. anywho 😊 just seeing if u are able to write a gojo x reader, perhaps him being older ( older brothers bsf, teacher, etc. ) i also would love to see some discreet public sexy time. ( classroom, movie theatre, pool… i love fucking hot tubs and pools…) thank you so much!😜✌️🎀

Our little secret

Ans: thank you so much for the support, and of course! I’m so excited to write my take on Gojo! Hope you like it!!

Summary: University au! You're working along side your thesis advisor Gojo in hopes to working closer to your ambitions for the future. But being a university student, costs are high and money is low. So to be able to keep up with your school you have a little gig on the side.

Content: MDNI, 18+, abaf reader, smut, forced proximity, dubcon, oral, penetrative sex, domination, degradation, praise, making out, rough sex, oral sex, penetrative sex, teacher/student relations, dominant Gojo, submissive reader

A/N: I apologize if not all of my historical information its 100% correct, I did do a little research for it to make as much sense as I could. I also apologize for any word vomited, grammar, or punctuation errors. I was up till 2am writing. but hope you enjoy!

You had been given the opportunity to have Satoru Gojo, head professor of the History department as your Thesis advisor. It was all still a little unreal to you, but you couldn't be more grateful. You have spent countless hours with one another, early mornings and late nights, doing your best to progress with your latest research proposal.  “The Villa of the Papyri” you said, placing your stack of papers down onto Gojos desk. “Now that surely is a pretty big project your-” He began to reply before you quickly cut him off “I understand it’s a lot, and that most of the contents inside got destroyed but there are over two thousand lost scrolls that reside inside that structure. There could be so many answers about the lost city of Herculaneum that those scrolls could contain!” Your look was genuine. . and so full of hope that he just couldn't say no. 

As weeks passed, you still had no leads. Weeks turned into, months, and months turned into a year, endlessly working alongside Gojo. Despite your research not flourishing as much as you had hoped, your relationship with your professor grew more than you expected. It didn’t feel like work, it was tolerable to be around eachother, it didn’t feel like he had some weird authority complex over you, you were comfortable, you couldn’t help but admit to yourself some feeling for your professor began to form and you wished nothing would come in between that. .until something did.

Being a university student, especially in the department you're in, funds are high and since you were usually busy researching all day, you had a hard time getting a stable job that worked around your harsh schedule. The school did pay you money to go through with this research but it was barely enough to buy you a loaf of bread and toilet paper. You needed money to survive and things were getting a little tight, so you thought working at your local club didn’t sound like a horrible idea. . as a dancer. 

Zafrio, is one of the more popular clubs in the area, but they worked well around your schedule, Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays every week. The pay was beautiful, every penny you made on that stage was yours to keep, on top of that you also got your bi-weekly pay which 10% of it went through tip - out to the servers, but you weren’t complaining. On average you made at least four hundred dollars a night, but on good days you would rack up closer to a thousand. 

Tonight was your Saturday shift, the busier one out of the three. As you were getting ready backstage a familiar face walked into the club, the club was packed full of people, he made his way through the crowd, brushing past people shoulder to shoulder, getting closer to the main stage. Now he didn’t come here often but when he did, it was every Saturday at eleven, to see you and only you perform. He used having a large crowd to his advantage as he was often hidden, so you seeing him was never a concern of his. How he found out about your little side job was not intentional, he just happened to stumble into the club with some of his friends one night, and there you were working. Gojo was beyond intrigued, so ever since that day he’d been coming to watch you perform, he didn’t know why he came back, but all he knew was that he started thinking of you in ways he’d never dare think of before. 

Your stage name gets called and there you are, walking out onto the stage over to the pole, beginning your number for the whole club. Cheers filled your ears, watching the money fall onto the stage, the serotonin that pumped through your body was unbelievable and he watched, every. Last. second. His eyes never leaving you or your body. The way your hips sway to the music, it was like he was in a trance. 

As you finish your number your eyes fall out to the crowd, adjusting from the bright stage lights shining up at you. You start to strut off and out the corner of your eye, you see. . no it couldn’t be. What was he doing here?? Your heart rate began to pick up. What was your professor doing here?! You quickly rushed the rest of the off stage. Did he just see you perform? Your mind was rushing at a million miles a second. 

You arrived backstage and looked in the mirror, your mind began to spiral and your heart picked up its pace, that was totally him, there was no denying it. “Is everything alright?” one of your fellow dancers came over to see if you were okay as they noticed you were panicking. “Yah.  .yah i'm fine” you said to put your clothes on and packed all your belongings. “Something came up and I really need to go, please let the boss know I’m sorry.” You knew all of the money you got from that dance would be taken care of by your boss, and were quick to leave, walking out to your car and heading home. 

Monday finally rolled around and you were on your way to Gojos' office to start work. If it were any other day you would be eager to get back to work after a weekend break, but today wasn’t any other day. The events of Saturday night still loomed in the back of your mind, you didn’t want to admit it but you were scared to face Gojo, how were you supposed to just act normal after that night?!

You opened the door to the office and plastered a smile onto your face and there he was sitting at his desk. “Good morning professor.” you said, making your way into the room, closing the door behind you. “Good morning, how was your weekend?” he asked, his eyebrow slightly arching with the question. You felt a lump form in your throat forcing it down before speaking. “Ah, it was quite relaxing,” you said trying to cut the conversation. “I'm surprised, you spend your weekends working do you not?” his head tilted ever so slightly, a smirk forming in the corner of his lips. He knew what he was doing and he knew you saw him that night. 

You froze in place for just a moment, “i'm not sure I know what you mean” Gojo looked at you right in your eyes, leaning forward so his elbows were resting on his knees. “I think you and I both know what I mean” your breath hitched, there was no going back, there was no avoiding this. You watched as Gojo sat up from his chair and made his way around his desk. Leaning against this chair and resting his ass against it he crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Well. . am I wrong?” This was it, your career was over, there was no way you would be able to recover from something like this, you knew the risks and yet you still took the chance, now look where it got you. 

You could feel yourself trying to choke but in the coming years, you were trying your best to keep yourself together. “Now you know there's no reason to lie to me. .” Gojo pushed himself off the desk and made his way towards you, your eyes never leaving him. He walked behind you, leaving your sight, but you could feel him looming over you. “Professor look, moneys been low and.” his hot breath suddenly hit against your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me.” His words were soft. 

Your shoulders tensed as he placed his hands on them “Is this okay? Can I touch you here?” Gojo let out softly once more, you simply nodded your head being speechless. His hands began travelling down stopping right at your hips. “You know. .I have a confession of my own. Ever since I found out about your secret endeavours. . I haven’t been able to stop going back. . I can’t stop thinking about you in ways I shouldn’t.” He choked out, Gojo was doing his absolute best to keep himself at bay. 

“Really?” you said, sounding surprised, his words were making your stomach flutter. As much as you wanted to deny this as wrong and unprofessional there was a recurring curious thought that wanted to find out more, what exactly was he thinking. “The thought drives me crazy” the hold he had on your hips gets tighter, but you move away from his grip, turning around to face him. His eyes were drawing you in like never before, you couldn’t describe it, but his gaze was full of pure lust. 

You bit down on your lips, you were unsure what to do, act professional or. . no what were you thinking! “Darling,” Gojo said, snapping you out of your thoughts. His hands coming up and cupping your face, his thumb trailing softly against your cheek. “Gojo I. .” You stood there speechless. “This is unprofessional.” You try to centre your thoughts “I think we’re long past that.” he said his hand never leaving your cheek. His face leaned down his lips inches from yours “if you want me to stop then tell me, I want you to be okay with this” you looked up at him through your lashes nodding your head ever so slightly. “Please. .don’t stop” you let out quietly just enough for him to hear you. 

Next thing you know you felt Gojo’s lips press against yours, lips moulding with one another. His kiss was delicate, but carried so much passion and lust behind every movement. Your mind continued to spiral at every given minute, but you didn’t want to stop, you wanted more. Gojo’s hands travelled down before taking your ass in his hands giving it a squeeze as he continued to kiss you. 

His tongue slipped past your lips and moved with yours, but it didn’t last long as he was quick to pull away to catch a breath. His head moved to your neck planting firm kisses against your neck as his hands made their way up your shirt, cupping your breast in the process massaging them as he continued to place his markings down your neck. “You’re fucking gorgeous” his voice was breathy, against your skin.

Gojo guided you over to his desk, turning you around to your back facing him. His hands lingered at the hem of your pants, thinking for a moment before he pulled both your pants and underwear down revealing your slick pussy. Gojo went down onto his knees to get a better view, his hand trailing up and down pushing in between your folds, slowly sticking his middle and ring finger deep into your pussy, causing a moan to escape your lips. “What if someone hears us?” you asked nervously. He continued to pump his fingers in and out of you slowly watching how your pussy swallowed his fingers “let them” he said. 

The speed of his fingers began to pick up the pace causing soft moans to escape through the seam of your lips. Gojo pulled his fingers out of you, spreading your legs open enough to lodge his head in between your thighs, dragging his tongue against your pussy. As you lay there leaning over his desk, gasping for breath, Gojo tasted every inch of you, savouring the sweetness of your flesh, he knew exactly where to touch, how to caress, driving you further into the realm of ecstasy. Your hips would involuntarily push back into him as he lapped his tongue over your clit, exploring every curve and crevice, bringing you to the edge of climax. It was almost painful, the anticipation and desire building within you, but you wouldn't trade this exquisite torture for anything else. 

As you were nearing release Gojo pulled away standing up, quickly unbuckling his pants to unveil his already hard twitching cock eager to pound into you. He held the base of his cock, dragging the tip in between your wet folds, before slowly pushing himself into you, causing a groan to escape from the back of his throat. His hands grabbing onto your hips, he began to slowly move his hips watching your pussy swallow his cock. “You feel so fucking good” he said as he began to pick up the pace. Your hand moved up to your mouth blocking out the moans leaving your lips, doing your very best to stay quiet enough so others wouldn’t hear your lewd sounds. Gojo’s thrusts became rough, his hand releasing your hip entangling his fingers through your hair tugging on it as he pounded into you. “You’re such a good girl, taking me so well”. 

As Gojo continued to thrust deep into you, you felt yourself coming closer to the edge once again, the knot building up in your stomach from him constantly hitting your G-spot. Your free hand moved down in between your legs and moved rapidly against your clit. “ you gonna cum on my cock baby?” He asked you, smirking down at you, how he enjoyed the sight. You let out a moan as your legs do their best to hold themselves up through your orgasm, Gojo was close, you could feel his cock pulsating inside of you. His thrust was becoming sloppy and out of rhythm. With a few more thrusts he quickly pulled out of you, his hot cum hitting against your back “fuck” he said out of breath looking down at the mess he made, but god it was fucking hot.

His body pressed up against your own, planting a soft kiss against your shoulder. Moving the hair away from your neck and planting them slowly against your neck as well, he let out a light groan, the vibration of his hot breath against your skin made you shiver. “Let's get you cleaned up baby” Gojo said, going back to his cocky smug voice once again. “Oh and. .lets keep this our little secret alright?”

@allicat0 signing off. .

#fanfiction #smut #gojo satoru #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #jjk fanfic #gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #Satoru gojo fic #gojo x reader smut #mdni #18+ mdni #jjk satoru

[mojogojocasahouse]

if you dare

Satoru Gojo x f!reader

You head out to haunted houses with Shoko, Suguru, and Satoru against your better judgment. Word Count: 934 Content: mutual crush, fluff

Masterlist

“We’re all going! Just come on.”

“Yeah, don’t be a baby.”

“It’s fine if you don’t want to, you know. We’ll bring you back something.”

Your friends from high school—Shoko, Satoru, and Suguru—are waiting before you in stances that match their urging tones. Shoko, her hands on her hips and lollipop hanging from the corner of her mouth staring at your expectantly, Satoru off to the side with his arms crossed impatiently, gaze averted, and Suguru, a warm smile on his face as you contemplated taking him up on his offer to decline. 

“Haunted houses aren’t really my thing—“ you begin in defense, Satoru’s loud groan cutting you off.

“Get in the caaaaaar,” he nags again, opening his long, slender arm out towards his sleek, black sedan waiting by the curb, “I’ll bring you home if it means we can get there before the sun rises.”

“You don’t mean that, do you Satoru?” Suguru asks with a playful yet knowing lilt in his tone.

“Yeah, Satoru,” Shoko adds in a similar cadence, “You wouldn’t want to go without our friend, would you?”

It’s a perturbed grunt that replies, followed by Satoru getting into the driver’s seat to stew, the door slamming as he shoves his knees beneath the steering wheel. 

“It’ll be fun,” Suguru reassures once again, “Plus, they have the best sweets.”

“It’ll be worth it,” Shoko tacks on, and with that you find yourself tucked in the back of the car beside Shoko, Satoru and Suguru prattling on about who, besides you, will be the one to scream first on the drive.

With your eyes pinched shut you follow Shoko as Satoru led the way through three of the haunted houses, your heart hammering and tears pricking at your eyes as the jump scares continue. Little did you know, the spooks don’t stop once you enter the open air, and as you breathe a sigh of relief and bring the soda Suguru just purchased for you to your lips, a ghoulish face pops out at your right, causing you to scream and spill the caramel liquid all down your front. 

“Oh, you were so scared,” Satoru wheezes through his raucous laughter, Suguru handing you a handful of napkins to try and clean your shirt off with, “You should have seen your face!”

“It’s not funny!” you shriek, throwing your practically empty cup at him all for him to dodge it, “You’re such an asshole.”

“Lighten up. That’s what we’re here for, geez.”

After some serious convincing from Shoko, you find yourself once again standing in a line waiting for yet another traumatizing experience. This time, Suguru led the way, Satoru bringing up the rear. It goes like every other, until a dead silence falls over the space, a flash of light and snarling roar sounding from right beside you as a figure leapt out, forcing you to turn with a blood curdling scream and bury your face into the first person you can reach.

Satoru. You can tell it’s him just from the sweet, arid smell that fills your nostrils. You're pressing against him so tightly your heart is hammering against his torso, your face nestling into the soft material of his hoodie as you try to regulate the pathetic little gasps of air you’re forcing down, your head spinning from sheer lack of oxygen and panic. 

“You’re really that scared, huh?” Satoru’s tone is oddly gentle and concerned. “C’mon. Before they leap out at you again.”

Where you expected a little push to your back urging you forward after you’d turned to head back through the terrors that await, instead two large hands gently grip around your hips, his front pressing tightly to your back as you take a step forward as his feet follow your path. 

“Close your eyes,” he whispers, his breath on the shell of your ear sending a shiver down your spine, “Let me lead the way.”

“So you can stop me right in front of a monster?” you grumble, but he only laughs in response. 

“Guess you’ll just have to trust me. Or find out what’s up there by yourself.”

You feel the cool night air on your face when his soft voice tells you to open your eyes. Shoko and Suguru stood a few feet ahead, trying and failing to look engrossed in a conversation and definitely not staring at you and Satoru, his hands still wrapped around your hips and lips hovering near your ear. 

“We’ve got two more!” Shoko called, “C’mon!”

“But I’m hungry!” Satoru whines as he straightens to his full height, “You said we could get some mochi after that one!”

“Fine! But hurry up.”

Satoru had already pinpointed his stand of choice upon arrival, and he excitedly leads the way through the crowd. He can see you slowing down as you pass through the same area as before, and while your eyes dart around in panic, you feel two long fingers toy with the hem of your jacket sleeve and tap against your wrist. 

Without a second thought you slide your palm into his, entwining your fingers as his hand completely swallows yours, his skin warm and soft. Bright blue eyes peer back at you from behind his dark sunglasses, the corner of his mouth ticking into a satisfied smirk, and for a moment you consider wrenching away, this has to be a trick, a tease, a prank…

“Stay…” his voice is muffled in the quiet plea as you give in to your intrusive thoughts and tug, his grip tightening for a moment before loosening enough to still give you the option to free yourself from his hold, “Please.”

Request Gojo Drabbles!

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo fanfic #satoru gojo fic #gojo satoru fanfic #gojo satoru fic #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fic #gojo satoru drabble #satoru gojo drabble #Gojo jjk

[certifiedjaeger]

Watch and Learn

Satoru Gojo x Female Reader

Summary: Gojo is beyond annoying, but there's something about him that keeps you coming back every night...

Word Count: 2.3K

Warnings: 18+ content, unprotected sex, slight dom!gojo/sub!reader, light choking, Gojo gets smothered by a pillow at one point lol, pet names (used mockingly), slight (?) angst/fluff throughout

Notes: This is just a tiny, little thing about reader and Gojo being friends with benefits – I hope you guys enjoy it! ♡

“Who’s a good girl?”

The way that he’s talking to you can only be described as that of an owner talking to their pet, his voice sweet and condescending as he coos in your ear, the smile on his face all too evident in the tone of his voice. He could really be infuriating sometimes… If Gojo wasn’t so good at this, you’re sure that you would pay him no mind. Yes, you’re positive that you would absolutely ignore every taunt of his; every teasing, insufferable remark that comes out of this annoying man’s mouth. Or, at least… that’s what you tell yourself.

~~~

His warmth blankets you as you lay underneath him; his tall, lanky figure encompassing your smaller one as his arms rest on either side of your head, caging you against him and his plush bed. This isn’t the first time that you’ve found yourself in such a compromising position with him– and you know for certain that it most definitely will not be your last. No, because it just feels too good. But as much as you don’t want to give him praise and as much as you don’t want him to believe that his skills are that impressive, you have to admit… he knows what he’s doing. Yes, he knows exactly how to make your body feel things you’ve never felt before and he knows exactly how to make you crawl back every time you swore that you were done with him.

“Who’s a good little listener?” His voice comes out higher than usual as he mocks you playfully, his long, veiny cock pumping in and out of you at a feverish pace. “Putting her legs up on my shoulders just like I asked her to, such a good girl,” Gojo smiles teasingly down at you, pinching your cheek and loving the way that your eyes narrow just a bit more out of frustration. 

God, he loves seeing you all riled up like this…

You see, he had been taunting you this whole time, teasing you relentlessly because he swears that out of everybody he enjoys pissing off, you look the absolute prettiest while angry. With your brows furrowed and those pretty eyes of yours glaring back at him, he’s positively swooning. But then again, he could never quite get enough of your oh-so-apparent irritation toward him. Because hey, at least it was something. He knows that you don’t harbor the same feelings that he has for you, that you don’t share in his affection, only seeing him as a casual lover and nothing more– At least, not seeing him in the way that he desperately wishes for every night. But, he can’t be picky when it comes to your attention– He’ll simply take what he can get. And if he can’t get smiles and adoration out of you, he’ll at least take your scowls and annoyed expressions. Because even when you sigh out of irritation, he swears it's the prettiest noise he’s ever heard. Even when you glare at him with anger in your eyes, he swears he’s never seen anything so beautiful. So yes, he’ll keep teasing you and he’ll keep pushing your buttons, only because it’s better to receive a death stare from you than to receive nothing at all.

Oh. And he’ll also keep doing this thing he does with his hips because he knows that you like it so much. Even if you refuse to tell him how good it feels, even if you never tell him how amazing it feels to have him inside of you– he knows. Because your body gives you away everytime. It absolutely betrays every glare, every sigh, every single action of yours that suggests you’re annoyed with him. Because even though you sigh with exasperation, looking just about ready to hit him, your body reacts differently, and instead pulls him even closer to you. And he loves it. Getting under your skin. Getting all of these reactions out of you. Getting to be the man who is responsible for the explicit string of curse words leaving your mouth– either from anger or pleasure, it doesn’t matter, he loves it all the same.

“Can you shut up for once?” You bite back, digging your nails into his back and leaving little crescent-shaped marks along his skin. You’d love to say that it was payback for his annoying taunts, but honestly… you know it’s from the relentless pace that he’s set; your nails absentmindedly scratching into his skin from the feeling of his hushed panting against your neck and simply put, how good it all feels. But, he doesn’t need to know that… No, he definitely doesn’t need to know that. “I don’t come to your room at night to hear your annoying voice, you know.”

“Darling, I do believe it’s morning,” he slows his thrusts, feigning an innocent expression as he brushes your cheek with his knuckles. “I do believe that you stayed the night… Now I know you usually leave after we’re done in the evening– or should I say, you usually stumble away. Too fucked out to walk properly, right?” He smirks down at you, relishing in the sight of you looking away from him, too annoyed–or was it… too embarrassed?–to look him in the eyes. “But you stayed the whole night, didn’t you? And now we’re going for round two after a peaceful night of slumber next to one another… How cute is that? What, you just couldn’t get enough of me, is that it?” He says once again in a faux sweet tone. “Listen, I know you’re obsessed with me, but if you wanted to spend more time with me, you could, you know… just ask me out on a date–”

“Oh my god, shut up–” you groan.

“I mean, really, this is just getting out of hand, my darling girl,” he teases with a smile, “What’s next? You want me to make you breakfast after this?”

“UGH,” you let out an even louder groan, the man above you making you feel like you needed to scream into a pillow. If he wouldn’t shut up on his own accord, you would just have to make him. Quickly, you throw him off his balance and flip him over, trapping his body underneath yours as you sit atop his body. His sudden expression belongs to that of somebody who is utterly surprised, and yet, his hands seem to immediately find their way onto your hips, absentmindedly grabbing onto you as he stares up at you with a twinkle in his eye and his mouth slightly parted.

“Well… go on then,” he nods his head to you, the corners of his mouth turning up into a slight smirk.

“Maybe I shouldn’t,” your voice comes out harsh as you dig your nails into his chest. One of his hands immediately leaves the soft skin around your hip and instead grabs onto both of your wrists, instantly stopping your movements as a more serious–more dangerous–look flickers across his face.

“Maybe you should,” he says in a low tone, his ‘suggestion’ coming out more as a warning.

You glance down at his lips that aren’t raised into their normal smile, feeling a small shiver go down your spine as his sudden dominant side makes an appearance. Oh yeah… this is why you put up with him. This right here– with him roughly grabbing onto your wrists and pinning them to his body, hearing the very lips you love to kiss utter these dangerous demands. With him reminding you of just how much stronger he is than you, with him immediately putting you in your place with only the slightest change of his tone. Yes, this is why you keep crawling back to him every night. As if you had no other choice, as if the helpless and addictive feeling that courses through your veins everytime you’re with him guides you directly back to the man himself.

You feel yourself soften against his intense gaze, feeling a bit more submissive now as his threatening words echo in your mind.

Maybe you should…

Yes, maybe you should… Slowly, you lean down and place a gentle, almost timid kiss against his lips, silently wishing for his smile to return, almost desperate for him to praise you for your sweet obedience. But he doesn’t kiss you back– Well, not at first, anyways. No, he wants to feel you desperate against his lips, he wants to feel you ache for him, just as he does for you. He needs to know how badly you want him– regardless of the eye rolls and the incessant sighs, he needs for you to show him that you need him. Just as he needs you.

And when he feels your tongue graze against his bottom lip, a silent plea for him to kiss you back, he decides to give you exactly what you want. He chases your lips, locking them with his instantly as he swallows the moan you let out into his mouth. It’s adorable, he thinks, how badly you try to fight your feelings, how much effort you put into acting as though you hate him, only for your mouth to then give you away like this. Afterall… he can hear you. He can hear the desperation in your moans, he can feel the desire coursing through your body. He knows you’ll keep coming back every night– or at least, he hopes.

He lines himself up with your entrance once again and places his hands on your hips as he pushes up into you, quickly resuming his steady pace of swift, powerful thrusts. But you suddenly detach his hands from your body and raise them above his own; your hands holding his wrists down just slightly above his head as an amused smirk reappears on his face and a small “oh?” leaves his lips.

You leave his hands there, slowly dragging your own down his arms and then back down his chest, only for them to land against his tense abs. He looks a bit handsome like this, you think, enjoying the look of amused surprise on his face as you begin to rock your hips. You raise yourself slowly on his length only to then sink back down, feeling his cock eagerly fill you up with every movement of your hips.

You’re much slower than he is, but it’s only so that you can feel every vein, every ridge of his cock against your fluttering walls. And God, does it feel good… Your eyes absentmindedly close as your head slightly falls back, a feeling of overwhelming pleasure overtaking your senses now as your nails lightly dig into his skin. It feels good, you think. It feels too good… it’s almost as though your body was made for him, almost as though nobody could ever make you feel this good again, even if you searched and searched and searched…

“Is that all you got?”

Your eyes snap open and they immediately fall upon the very smug-looking man beneath you. You instantly let out an annoyed sigh– Of course he had to ruin your small moment of bliss. Of course.

You notice him part his lips, most likely getting ready to say something aggravating that will ruin the moment even more– only you don’t let him. No, you quickly take the pillow beside your body and cover his face with it, pushing down lightly as you pick up your pace. You’re almost as relentless as he was a couple of minutes ago, quickly moving your hips against his as you feel anger bubbling up inside of you, wanting nothing more than to take it out on the one person who had caused it. Except, he seems to be enjoying it. No– he seems to be loving it.

He holds his arms out, spreading them far apart and lifting his hands to the air as though he’s worshiping you, as though you’re his God and he’s reveling in your divine beauty.

“Atta girl!” you hear his muffled praises from below the pillow, him seeming to not care in the slightest that his air supply was quickly running out. You lift the pillow from his face and throw it to the ground, instantly noticing the lovesick look in his blue eyes. Not only that, but a lazy smile seems to have found its way onto his blissed-out face, as well; his hands held out in worship now reaching behind his head as his arms rest there in relaxation, him looking just a bit too comfortable for your liking. 

“Well… aren’t you gonna do something?” You ask, annoyed with his lack of movement.

“Nah, I think you got it, babe. You’re doin’ such a good job,” he smirks, sending a wink your way as your eyes narrow out of frustration. Insufferable.

You let out a loud, irritated groan–probably your twentieth of the morning–and reach for this throat, squeezing hard in the hopes of wiping that smug smile right off of his face. But it doesn’t disappear. No, it actually gets even wider, for some reason.

“Oh my! Somebody’s got some anger issues…” he grins up at you, only amusement lacing his features now. You want to squeeze harder, you want to reach for the pillow again, you want to do something–anything–just to shut him up. But he doesn’t let you.

He quickly flips you over–much faster and much more elegant than when you had done it–and traps you underneath his body, holding both of your wrists above your head with one hand while his other reaches for your throat, giving it the lightest of squeezes. “Let me show you how it’s done, darling,” he whispers in a low and sultry voice, his breath hot against your skin as you feel the head of his cock prod at your entrance once again.

“Watch and learn.”

#satoru gojo #satoru gojo jjk #satoru gojo oneshot #satoru gojo imagine #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x y/n #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo fic #satoru gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojou satoru #gojou x reader #gojou smut #gojou satoru fic #my writing

[derangederensimp]

But A Dream Part 2: Inspired by the amazing TimikoTaya NSFW Artwork

Jujutsu Kaisen Smut

CW: Teacher/Sensei kink, Fingering, Unprotexted sex, Creampie, Cockwarming and Breeding kink. Some after and fluff at the end. Reader is a colleague

Part One | Part Three

—

“Already ready for a round two y/n Sensei?” He asked, Chuckling at the sight.

Getting you out of the car was a new challenge Gojo had to face as you fell asleep. Deciding bridal style would be the best way to get you in, he hooked one arm underneath your legs and the other arm behind your back as he pulled you out. Walking to the door he opened it easily before stepping inside.

Gojo stared down at you, your eyes now open full of lust and desire. He thought bringing you to his place would allow you to sleep properly and didn’t think twice about there being a round two, not the way you looked like in his office. Fucked out of your mind, drunk on his dick, exhausted from it is what he would explain the look on your face to be. But now your face was the same expression as when he told you he could fix your need to be laid. “Already ready for a round two y/n Sensei?” He asked, chuckling at the sight before him.

All he had time to do was to sit on his living room couch with you settled on his lap. Gojo was just getting started, pulling off his shirt and lifting up yours to expose your breasts to him. Leaning his head down to make contact with your hardened nipple, taking it into his mouth and swirling his tongue around the piercing. Your quickened breaths made him aware just how much he was already causing pleasure, making his cock twitch in his pants.

His hand snaking down the front of your skirt pulling your panties to the side, the brush of his knuckle slightly on your clit sending shocks of electricity traveling up your spine. Accidentally letting out a soft moan from even the minimal contact, face blushed wanting more. “Please.. Gojo Sensei… m-more” You managed to get out in between breaths. The heat pooling between your legs, his other hand settling on your hip as he began slipping a finger between your lip and rubbing up to the clit.

Circling it with his finger around the raised bud while adding a finger into you, dropping your head back onto his shoulder biting your lip. “You like that?” He asked, turning his head to the side to look at your face. All you could do was nod as he began pumping his finger in and out while still sending shocks of pleasure from rubbing your clit. Your walls squeezing his finger just at the moment when he hooked it “F-fuck, the way you squeeze me and it’s only my finger” He groaned, wishing his dick was in place instead. Switching to his thumb on your clit he continued to finger your tight cunt, thighs starting to shake as the pressure in your stomach kept building. “M-more, Shit Please give me more” you moaned out. “Pretty Girl, your already losing it on one, can you handle two?” he cooed into your ear. Hitting your G spot with his finger your body tightened around him cumming on his hand.

You watched him bring his finger to his lips and lapping up your fluid with his tongue “tastes so good” Gojo said, a smirk growing on his face. Taking a breast into his hand and giving it a squeeze, letting you take a breather before he plunged into your pussy again this time with two fingers. The gasp you let out turned him on so much, determined to make you cum as many times as he could tonight.

Grabbing a fistful of his white hair as the sudden contact made your back arch. His fingers pumping in and out of you “T-too much, slow down” you said, biting down on your lip to hold in the loud moan you would've let out. “Com’on Pretty Girl, you can handle two..” he teased. He loved the way you pulled on his hair each time he slipped his fingers out and shoving them back in or when he hit the perfect spot. The way your body reacted to his touch drove him insane and he’d be damned if someone else got to experience this.

“Whose pussy is this?” Gojo asked, staring into your glossed over eyes. Keeping his fingers outside of you, waiting for a response before he continued. Your body attempting to squeeze onto anything but being empty “Yours Gojo Sensei” you answered whiningly, gripping his hair slightly harder. “only mine?” he quizzed, tracing the outline of your entrance. “Y-yes” you panted out, his fingers instantly filling you, a slew of curses leaving your mouth. With his other hand he unzipped his pants before slipping them down his thighs, freeing himself and stroking it.

“Your pussy is perfect, it’s like you were made for me” Gojo groaned out, grabbing your hips with both hands to pull you onto his lap. Straddling him backwards he leaned your body slightly forward before lining his cock up with your entrance before pulling your hips down onto him with a slame.

Curses leaving both of your mouths as he controlled the pace, moving your hips up and down till you got the hang of doing it yourself, holding onto his thighs digging your nails into them slightly, Gojo moaning from the light sting. The position allowing you to move your body at whatever pace you felt like which ended up being a quickened one, with hard thrusts. Gojo’s hands grabbing on your ass lazily guiding your movements, head thrown back in ecstasy each time your walls squeezed him.

“So eager to get me to cum hmm? You want it that badly y/n? If that’s what you want I’ll give it to you” Gojo grunted, pulling your body back onto his as, holding your legs apart fucking into you from below. The lewd sounds from your bodies and mouths filling his apartment, a noise complaint for sure would come in the morning though he didn’t care. He wanted you to scream on his dick but also didn’t want to go too rough on your body. He wasn’t even sure how you had a round two in you after what was done in the office but he wasn’t going to complain.

He felt your legs begin to shake, taking it as a sign to continue his speed and hardness of each thrust. The knot only tightening in your stomach as his cock met every spot perfectly, admittedly he filled you up perfectly and fucked you better than any one time hook ups you’ve ever had. If you were to tell him this his ego would for sure grow 10x.

His fingers now digging into your hips breaking you from thought with his position changing slightly as he arched his back to go in deeper. One hand leaving your hips to travel down your body stopping at your clit, he focused on rubbing it just the way you liked it the first time, pounding into your cunt while doing so for added stimulation. Your body reacting to it while a tight squeeze around his cock, he could tell you were getting close with how bad your thighs were shaking along with your heavy breaths.

“Cum with me Pretty Girl” he cooed into your ear, biting the lobe softly. Grabbing your legs again with his arms and forcing your body down onto him as he slammed into you at the same time, the pace only quicken. Each thrust a loud grunt from him and a moan from you filling the air.

The pressure in your stomach bursting, squirting all over his dick. Cum filling you once again, the warm feeling causing you to feel butterflies in your stomach. Gojo’s chest heaving up and down as his held you against his body. He didn’t want you to move one bit, he enjoyed the pluses from your body still being inside. Your body still trying to milk him more than it already got. “Just sit like this for a bit, we wouldn’t want this round to go to waste now would we? Carrying my baby doesn’t sound half bad does it?” He cooed into your ear, stroking at your hair removing it from your face and tucking behind your ear before kissing your lips softly and holding your chin in place with his thumb.

A few minutes passing while you stayed in his arms, cock still inside. You could feel the soft twitches it would randomly have. “Alright, let’s go get you cleaned up” Gojo said, bringing you to your feet and ushering you to the bathroom. Turning on the shower to a temp you preferred before stepping inside, before he got in the grabbed towels and set them onto the counter. Getting in behind you he held your hips so you would fall over, still wobbly from the first round and now your legs really felt like jello.

He rubbed a loofah with body soap across your body starting at your breasts, then arms, stomach, and legs. His blue eyes piercing you each time he looked up at you, sending shivers down your spine. Once you were all cleaned up he shut the water off and wrapped a towel around your body before leading you to his bedroom. It looked cozy, silk sheeted bed with a bunch of pillows, yawning as he handed you a pair of shorts and a baggy t-shirt to slip into. Once you were both dressed he stretched out his arms in the air yawning, getting into bed and patting the spot next to him.

“I wanna cuddle y/n” Gojo said, grin on his face as he watched you crawl onto his bed and nuzzle up next to him. Wrapping his arms around you, holding you close to his bare chest you couldn’t help but smile. “That was amazing… you’re amazing” you said, smiling against him. “You too, my pretty girl” He mumbled, his eyes fluttering open and shut as he tried to fight off the urge to sleep. He would definitely need rest for what was in store later…

—

Other One shots | Masterlist everything else

#jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x y/n #gojo satoru smut #gojo smut #satoru gojo x reader #Gojo Satoru 18+ #gojo x y/n #gojo x reader #gojo x you #satoru gojo smut #Satoru gojo Dom #Gojo Satoru Sensei #Gojo Satoru fic #derangederensimp #Satoru Gojo fic

[weeabooofficial]

Jujutsu Kaisen Masterlist

Masterlist

Ryomen Sukuna

A Proper Way to Mount the Throne [18+]

Satoru Gojo

Coming Soon

Suguru Geto

Crave [18+]

#costly affairs #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #sukuna fic #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna fic #ryomen sukuna x reader #geto #suguru geto #suguru geto fic #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto fanfic #geto fic #geto x reader #geto fanfic #satoru gojo #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo fic

[seb-owns-these-tatas]

7th Dimension (Chapter 7.4)

PREVIOUSLY ON CHAPTER 7.3

7TH DIMENSION MASTERLIST

7TH DIMENSION WATTPAD LINK (I’m always 1-2 chapters ahead in this site) (Head on to it and don’t be shy to introduce yourselves or leave a comment! <3 Love y'all! <3) (I’m about to post chapter 8.3 there by now. I just realize how far ahead I am in Wattpad now. I'M SORRY! Readers have just been more interactive there rather than in Tumblr. Heehee.)

Characters: Gojo Satoru x Small!Naive!Fem!Foreign!Reader | THIS IS A MULTI-CHAPTER FIC. THIS IS AN X READER FANFIC WHO HAS BEEN BROUGHT TO THE DIMENSION OF JUJUTSU KAISEN | (Trust me, you'll live. I hope?)

Summary: (Part 5) Mind Training with Gojo Satoru had been beneficial to the both of you. You were given a mission to bake him sweets and in return of earning a 10/10 rating from the Great Teacher Gojo would result for a Shopping Spree treat from the Strongest Jujutsu Sorcerer alive.| Additional Summary for this chapter: You've learned and collected discoveries that weren't meant to be divulged from Satoru Gojo. Only those who were special would get to notice and experience these so-called-discoveries about him. Hence, it was worthwhile and also meant to be credited and taken into mind for future purposes. Yet as a compensation for that, destiny has given the accursed karma upon buying intimate apparels with the only nuisance that always brings out the worst in you.

Warnings: Fergie is mentioned here. 🤣 This has been a mess of a chapter? This ain't canon, guys...But, I've had to choose something that Satoru wouldn't like just for the sake of this story. (Other than his canon dislike for 'alcohol') I chose Shiitake Mushrooms/Mushrooms because I wanted it to be the common ones that everybody eats but it's the opposite for him. Again, not canon. Just something to spice up his character in this book. Satoru's also being quite flirtatious every once in a while. Heehee. Google Translate is mentioned. Granny-Pannies too. (Y'all know why on the end of this chapter. 🤣) 

VOTES AND COMMENTS ARE SUPER-DUPER HIGHLY APPRECIATED! IT GIVES ME SO MUCH MOTIVATION! SORRY IF THERE ARE LOTS OF TYPOS AND GRAMMAR ERRORS IN THIS CHAPTER! I ain't a professional writer! I'm just a potato-hoe! LMAO. 🤣

Words: 5.8k+

Disclaimer: PNG's or pictures used in edits, also those posted are not mine especially the GIF's. (I dunno how to make GIF's 😭) I only own the plot of 7th Dimension. But, not Jujutsu Kaisen's storyline and the characters themselves. I apologize for the typos or grammatical errors by the way! English isn't my first language so I'm so sorry in advance! Character development and personalities are based from my understanding and how I want them to be for the sake of the story.

"I---I'll come back here with Nobara instead."

"You're already here. Why not buy them now?"

SATORU cloaked on a false display of innocence along the lines of his logical statement. His mischievous grins bottled up with a faint bite to his lip to provide more of his feigned impeccability in spite of the disenthralled purpose hidden under Aladdin's flying carpet. Positively seeing through the intentions that he was implying for. A homespun philosophy; a whip-smart piece of advice from the strongest himself like it was utter Brain Blast from Jimmy Neutron.

Your walking red flag benefactor had his face tucked away with the impish inflection of his voice. Pitch resonating a higher like a question asked by a preschooler who kept raising his hand to his teacher and chose to just say it out loud regardless that you both know it was beyond a gullible query from the latter.

Leastways, the backdrop have been less ribald and unseemly prior to the day that you were brought over a decent---well, over the top kind of shame on that very special moment where your supposed to be Pastry Shop or Dessert Store had evolved into an erotic one where Dildos are being sold to people. It has been your unfortunate heyday that was meant to be criticized by two---one matured but thoroughly hushed ex-salary man and the other can be described as an unmellowed one in regards to the brassy reactions you've received from the guy who happened to be the only one; the exclusive person whom you had no escape from.

You've chosen to act oblivious about it, pretended that it wasn't necessary. There has already been a construction of plans ahead. It's either you were going to borrow money from anyone---aside from Satoru who obviously won't shut his mouth over what you planned to buy. Worst case scenario was that he would actually be an angel---the actual devilish menace to accompany you instead. It was either that or you're begging for alms anywhere out in Japan and end up being in jail instead.

However, fate decided that the worst case scenario was much of a better option. It wasn't entirely the best. Yet, providence made it seem like it was a choice that needed to be handpicked.

Therefore, destiny let you held onto the hot potato. Culminating over the outcome of you and Satoru standing before an intimate apparel store with iron-willed standpoints of the complete antithetical notions.

He has been the hell yes, do it and you were clearly the oh, hell no.

There has been lots of discoveries that was to befounded from Gojo Satoru in your experience through out the current engagement you were having with him. This abrupt Shopping Spree treat he'd spontaneously conducted which held a lot of rude awakening---sarcastically speaking, he actually roused you up utterly barbarously by setting an alarm up on full volume at such a cranky hour in the morning---but, other than that literal verbatim, he had you all agog for what kind of multiplex personality he had.

You've had a lot of aha moments with him. Most that has been mentally kept and treasured for utter blackmail purposes which can be used in the future. This man; the one who held an utmost consuming and extraordinary classification in their society, the Jujutsu World that you somehow couldn't comprehend because nobody wanted to be in detailed of when it came to elucidating the subject at hand.

In other words, every one in Tokyo Jujutsu High did not want to talk to you through a language that would get them stumbling over and over again.

But, you were beginning to have an inkling that their work was confidential---entirely should be discreet to the eyes of normal people and they were still dithering over your existence.

Unless, Satoru made it clear that he should be the sole person to explain through it all. Although, he hardly explains anything that can discerned by you as of the moment. He seemed to take everything casual and vague as he could and it was not helping your mind especially when you were one who was considered to have brain-freakin'-damaged.

There had been at least two to three discoveries you've taken to mind today about Gojo Satoru.

One, he had a habit of staring.

This type of staring could be appraised as an outstare. The variety where you were presumed to be under his daunting company because of the cogency of his eyes. Aberrant than the typical or usual to be seen by anyone who were currently breathing in the same air with you right now because in all possibility, you've looked from left to right; seen people never having them even on his world and thought everything through when you were still back in your dimension.

Nobody in the world---even the ones considered to be downright gorgeous and perfect had the eyes of Gojo Satoru.

He appeared to be the sole one who inherited it from whatever bloodline he came from.

Thus, Gojo manifested that he was shameless to poke fun over your patent restiveness. Those tiny stammers that leave your lips quivering and the constant swallowing of your frets. It was giving him the vim that made him chortle whenever he was insistent upon looking fixedly on you; never knowing if he was gazing vacantly in which you had not caught---he'll be damned on that certain minute if you actually had calmed down from the sporadic turmoil he casted upon because the strongest had this quirky sense of distraction---and actually asked him a question or retaliated to complain over being outstared by him.

He probably needed to wear his blindfolds back after the treat he had with you.

Though, the first discovery never did sound like a protection racket of some sort. It has only been a breakthrough for Satoru's characteristic gestures.

Blackmail number two was that he had found Mushrooms downright disgusting. 

Satoru loathed it. How have you noticed? Well, he made it obvious by feeding the damned vegetable in your mouth despite of not wanting to.

Forced them inside your mouth, to be precise.

You've finally calmed down to your heart's content and constant flutters once food has been served by a waitress. Satoru has been continuously talkative from the start that his food were situated before him, an endearing chime of delight escaped his mouth to his heedless reaction, guessing that he paid no attention to it. His face corroding into an epitome of a cherub as it rejuvenated him. The mental picture has made you ask God in vain how one man could ever exist; how he could look winsome enough for a person to intentionally slip on a banana peel in attempts that he'll notice them, till he had the potential of being utmost dear for such a simple dining occurrence.

To be honest, the viewpoint had given you an aching warmth to your heart. Spreading through you like a damned alcohol that began pumping down your system as if you were bound to feel lightheaded and joyous.

Asking the heavens how it happened and how he was created were of no use because you've accumulated no answer to it.

Satoru had been loquacious even in the middle of devouring his noodles. Thoroughly not caring if he was talking with his mouth full that it made him sound incomprehensible at times. Though, whenever he does, it was only in a portion of having the food kept on the other side of his tumefied cheek. His topics were always arbitrary. The strongest Jujutsu Sorcerer had never slipped any amount of information over how they do their work---nor how he does it. He was having the earmarks as if he was a normal teacher whom was in the middle of chatting down about Yuji's outstanding meatballs that you surely should get to taste soon.

His lower lip jutted out in a stifled pout, ceasing to finish his own sentence as you munched your own plate away. You've given him the side-eye, wondering why he surprisingly zipped his mouth and regarded his expression. Satoru felt you were rubbernecking and lifted a Shiitake mushroom with his own chopsticks, swiftly lifting them to your mouth with a blink behind his sunglasses.

"What?" you've given him a benignant blink of an eye, mentally criticizing if he grew three heads in which Satoru immediately knew and felt.

He'd raised his chopsticks further, assertive as he was. The vegetable grazing, rubbing lightly upon your lip which made your heart skip a beat from the unnecessary mental image as you slightly pushed your head back. You've critically analyzed his intentions with furrowed brows, taking you by surprise for the need to be catered for in his presence. Not to mention that those chopsticks he was using had already been in his mouth already.

"Want a mushy?"

A mushy? Gojo was cocking his head to the side, inspecting the edible fungi as he held it out for you. He was persistent and unrelenting, appearing as if he knew you had no other choice but to accept his wishes.

You've squinted your eyes back at him, reading through the signs over what he really wanted. He had his lips pursed, momentarily taking glimpses of that meat you've deliberately nested on the side of your bowl, the meat swimming peacefully inside the bowl of noodle soup you planned on not finishing all. Saving the best for last; the meats to be specific.

Oh. He wanted an exchange then. How unfair could he be.

It must be that reason or he was subtly telling you that he disrelished the fungus.

"I'm not eating that. You've been eyeing my meats. You just want an exchange. It isn't a fair trade though."

Gojo was still assiduous than ever and tried to coax you through your obdurate cynicism, "It's to make you stronger, healthier." you've sighed and shook your head, determined to not give in to his wishes because of his own dislikes over an digestible mushroom that was stereotypically edible for everyone.

A grimace was etched upon your features, dwelling on his own beliefs. You've scientifically given it a school of thought, knowing damn well that mushrooms are a source of fiber, protein and antioxidants. The fungus being good for boosting heart health and not the brain. Somehow, it probably did.

"Why? As far as I remembered, mushrooms don't help in healing the brain. I mean---perhaps, it does improve brain function somehow---But---Why though? I have my own. Go eat yours."

"Because," Satoru started, the next words a melodious chant. His pitch turning higher as if it was satirizing. It didn't help that he was smiling broadly as he did so, "---You're weak."

"Pfft. That sounded funny." you've choked on your own saliva and abruptly snorted before even realizing why you did. It resonated inside your head like an echo being hollered inside a bat cave in that empty abyss kept within the depths of your amnesia. Unaware of your native tongue being spoken out in the open, thinking out loud, "---And also familiar somehow."

It's like you've already heard it from him somehow. But, you believed that there hasn't been a case yet and this was the first time you've encountered the phrase from him. Perhaps, the expected pertinence sense of attributes held within the quotation as said by Satoru was made to be felt familiar because the man was indeed arrogant as ever.

Now, Gojo had the expressive grimace you've notched when you were being fed by his mushrooms. The tiny scowl apparent and expressive enough to tell that he abhorred the language he restrictively advised you not to speak of whenever he was around. He'd mentally criticized how you were constantly thumbing your nose over the idea of his outstanding power he held. Yet, Satoru understood why you were acting and seeing him that way. It was because he actually had never showed off the aptness of what he was made of.

He actually had never gotten the chance to extensively swaggered around yet.

The side he was actually showing had been the normal one; the part where he was considered to be...the middle of the road, not counting the Mike Wazowski incident back in Hatagaya. You'd underwent going through kid's stuff with Satoru and his students. Thoroughly trouble free. In due time, Satoru probably needed to show off more soon to wipe that naivety of yours away.

Those laughter he was hearing though, the latter wasn't certain whether or not he wanted to wipe them off you as well. Your fits had been entirely a dulcet tone for the ears like a fresh lollipop being unwrapped for him to appreciate. Satoru slightly lifted himself off his chair, heedful upon which bag of newly bought clothes had been sitting beside you, "I'm stowing away that dress we bought. The one you've been eyeing but had been cheap not to whisk it away at all until I actually had to,"

You've ceased him to it before he could, raising a hand to guard the paper bags that were nestled safely beside you. Knowing that he was damn capable of throwing them away if he wanted and you've ceased him to it with your hand, "You're calling me cheap?"

Satoru gave a firm nod, utterly not skeptical over his rude opinion over you. His grin was wide enough for a Cheshire Cat to cower away from.

"F-Find another person who's telling you your sketches then!" Your voice lacked of conviction, the little stammer catching you off-guard that he had approved of the opinion so casually and phlegmatically like it was the truth. To all intents and purposes, it probably was. A wry face crawled upon the nerves of your expressions, disbelief utmost screaming from his frank agreement towards his critical assumptions.

He plonked back on his seat, those grins turning into a bright toothy smile, the image he portrayed that he recognizes where you were always left shunning your gaze away like it always bothered you. The Jujutsu Sorcerer lifted the mushroom back to your lip with malice aforethought of having the edible fungus and his own chopsticks gently poke through your lips, pushy as he always did.

You were starting to grow annoyed over his troublesome nuisance. Couldn't he just take the word 'no'? and accepted that you didn't want an exchange? "Satoru, I told you---NO."

"Satoru, YES. Now, say ah~" he went on upon prodding your lip with the mushroom, bumptious to have his own bowl of food empty that he would hand over his own eatables to your own surfeit.

It was as if a bright light bulb popped above your head, lighting in a way that tells you how witty you were upon his constant persuasion. The theories pooling inside your head as it held your own strong-willed beliefs over his peculiar wheedling. Your mouth forming an unusual grin that has been thoroughly newfangled for Satoru to take the image to because you were never one to grin back at him as if you were a wicked, Lilliputian Digimon kept in his stacks of collection that he has.

"Ah, I get it now. Is the strongest just scared of his own mushies?!"

The way his mouth upturned on the corners of his lip, his eye-crinkles minimally falling if a person wasn't entirely habituated over his reactions. If you haven't been noting the tiniest habits that were difficult to comprehend from the complexity of his characteristics---if you actually haven't squinted further into knowing how he was capable of being peeved despite of how he covered the exasperations of being oddly wise to quickly caught up to Gojo Satoru's attitude.

Then, you wouldn't have been heedful that you were right. The strongest abhorred his own Shiitake mushrooms.

He'd taken the get-go, Satoru briskly took over being caught red-handed by a damned, weak, non-sorcerer and took your taunts to his own hands. Literally and figuratively. The attractive white-haired sorcerer was insanely fast enough to stuff down that confidence you had over realizing the confidential discovery. His robust, calloused fingers that engulfed your face in full length held onto your jaw, leniently but emphatically prying them open into a widened squeeze that instantly surprised you again, taking you aback and making you freeze along your seat. Your lips were being compressed like you were a child he was having a difficult time on feeding her medicines.

Did he literally shoved the food inside your mouth?

Yes. Yes, he did.

The strength he'd forced upon you hadn't even been one where you would've felt pain. Yet, it was enough to pry your mouth open and shut down that aplomb in which Satoru was highly aware of.

"S-Shatoru!" you've incoherently exclaimed through your flabbergast. Utmost incredulous to believe he would do that to you.

Well, it was not like he had already done it back in the plane. Did he also have a habit of shoving every damned edible food into your mouth without a warning?

A taunting grin resurfaced upon his face when your cheeks were tumefied over the mushrooms he forced you to eat, eyeing you over his sunglasses to get a better representation of his sudden impulsive actions.

Thus, the last discovery you've remarked was that he was great at veiling his act of feigned innocence through his simple coquettish gestures which leaves you distracted.

Or the guy was just an all-out sultry man that you've interpreted his gestures that was to be considered amorous; or it could also be that he knew damn well that you could turn into total putty right on the midst of his large palm in which Satoru planned to frolic on.

"Your turn to feed me then." Satoru brought back his chopsticks over his lip, gradually and languidly tapping them over his own supple vermillion like he wanted and urged you to concentrate on the idea that those chopsticks---the one he has fed you with---had been inside your mouth and his at the same time, "---An eye for an eye, Tiny-Chan~!" he went on with his goading, slightly leaning on his side of the table with both of his elbows, intentionally grazing the tip of his chopsticks in a coy behavior that got you begrudgingly chewing on the mushroom you've been forced to take, bordering on choking upon his unbidden actions. 

"T-THAT'S JUST CRUEL! THAT WASN'T EVEN A FAIR EXCHANGE!"

The outcome to all of that was the result of his own logical hypothesis or beliefs that in some way, this mental hierarchy of needs he mentally drawn inside his head for you subjected to the notion---a practical logic for everyone---that you eventually would need your intimate apparels.

It was the first guess. Second would be that he was making fun of the embarrassment that would eventually take over once he came in with you and third would be that he was debauched to know your tastes upon choosing which intimate apparels you were a penchant of.

The three options can be a mixture of everything with Satoru's analytics.

"It's because you're here!" you've whisper-yelled in a grouse. Having qualms that he was shameless to accompany you through an apparel store that were filled with women and couples who were buying lingerie with their boyfriends for a night fueled for joy and intimacy.

"---and? What's the problem with that?" he raised a brow, catching your attention to it for a while because of how you weren't still habituated over the reality that he had albino eyelashes and eyebrows as well.

"We're all adults here. You're an adult. I'm an adult---" his blabbers were immediately cut off by a deadpan.

"You sure about that, Satoru?"

Satoru inserted his hands inside his pockets, peering down at you, cocking his head to the side while keeping his line of vision on you alone, sounding nonchalant as he casually informed, "Well, it's not like Nobara's paying you for these. Also, she won't understand you nor does she seem to like you."

"They use Google Translate now. I can understand them and vice versa." You've crossed your arms against your chest, raising a brow at the information said as if you've answered all the problems that the earth needed, gloating over the recommendation constructed and generated by your own intellect.

This has been your witty idea after all.

It was a simple walk through in the middle of Tokyo Jujutsu High, hopping along the flourished wood with satisfying, perceptive thumps. You were trying to find where the kitchen had been when you've somehow stumbled upon Megumi Fushiguro. Though, the juvenile tried his best to clandestinely avoid any verbal communication or discussion with you without Gojo on your side, knowing that he would suffer through an amount of cerebral processing just to know what you actually meant.

The Shikigami user pondered for a while as you were meters away, reckoning why you were alone and wandering around the institute.

Howbeit, that momentary ceasing in between his tracks, his face was still stoic and bland to know what he thought of. Fushiguro had to quickly look away when you've had him caught like a deer in headlights, immediately giving him a friendly smile. It was a fated chance of a encounter he knew he needed to tolerate as he tried to turn away to take his leave, trying to shun away from the need of being in a verbal conversation with you.

It was a wonder why the student was up and early at five in the morning. Nevertheless, you were lucky to see him and hollered for his name out loud that made him grumble beneath his breath, asking the heavens why it was always him being caught in conversations he obviously didn't want to be caught up in.

You were both caught in an uncomfortable silence. Megumi was silently staring down at you as he waited for what you wanted to ask of him, anxious for how he would respond until you've non-verbally gestured for Megumi's phone with a simple imaginary tap to your palm as if you were mentally picturing a phone in hand.

Fushiguro had given you a once over, trying to comprehend what you needed and understood the idea, wholly giving his phone to you without even being anxious that you would sneak in through his messages or somewhat. Though, you've given his phone back and eventually let him lead onto tapping where Google was. You've known it existed in their dimension after Satoru had explained what amnesia was to you through Wikipedia back at the restaurant before you were even caught in your own stupidity through the abandoned street curse back in Hatagaya.

You've plainly stated the word 'Google Translate' to Megumi in which the first-year student nodded at that.

Now, he could understand you through the application whenever the both of you wanted to conversate. Though, it probably wasn't the best translator but it was somehow useful. It took quite the time and comfort to adjust over the idea between the both of you.

"But, would they pay for it, though? They're my students. Again, students." Satoru continued to cajole his way out of his feigned empathy, knowing that the menace also had other schemes inside his head which was why he was adamant over being the person whom you should buy intimate apparels with, "Would you make my students---may I emphasize---" he gave a dramatic pause, leaning his weight to the side as he brought the idea to the fore, "---My precious students treat you for---"

You've protested at the top of your lungs, your fists clenched to the sides as you firmly shook your head in disapproval, knowing he'd be an utter headache once you entered the establishment with him instead, "I'M NOT BUYING MY UNDERWEARS WITH YOU!"

Satoru's tonality was light and acted as if he was claiming that he had clean hands over the issue you were giving so much malice through, "It's not like you'll be buying the granny underwear anyways," he shrugged his broad shoulders, quite blasé about the situation.

You've felt the heat spreading like wild fire across your face that quickly went through the nape of your neck as you mindlessly retaliated with a tight scowl to your lip, trying to offer a sarcastic jest but also not as well. It wasn't like you've never worn them when you were having menstruations every month.

"Now, you're being deprecating, Satoru."

Satoru blinked to himself, his mouth upturned from the consternation. Surprised that women your age actually did wore them from time to time. What an eye-opener indeed. His query sounded like he was convinced over the half meant joke.

"Wait, you actually would?!"

His face were inches away from you. Eyes analyzing if you were joking or not. The audible hum of interest and judgements making you anxious and humiliated that he took it seriously. Though, it was just all in the spirit of his nosiness.

Satoru abruptly bent his towering height to your level, cocking his head to the side as he was single-minded over tormenting you with that obstinate curiosity of his. His gaze were screaming over how hell-bent he was that he never believed the satirizing tone that had been shaky from the start. An intonation in between the actuality of it being a joke and also not at the same time.

He was outstaring again. Yet, this time, it was entirely a mixture of skittishness and his wayward credence over your weird and comical preferences.

Satoru gradually leaned in closer, his face dangerously close enough and obviously having the keen over how you were avoiding the intensity of those Ethers he owned, "C-Cant you take a hint that I was telling you a joke?"

He blinked behind his abnormally, jet black sunglasses, pursing his lips as he pretended to dwell. Finding joy over the embarrassment you were feeling.

"It's not a joke, isn't it?" Satoru stressed on, reigning the guilt-free act over catching you off-guard for the abrupt turn of events.

Every woman does it. Your mother did; your female friends did as well. Every member of the fair sex owns at least one of them. There wasn't anything wrong with it.

Though, it wasn't meant for Gojo to know as well. He was a man after all. It wasn't necessary for him to understand. The man doesn't even experience the whole menstruation thing so you might as well make him think that it was a joke.

"IT IS! I-I was kidding! W-What makes you think I wasn't joking?!" you've stammered, quickly peering up at him when he brought back his shoulders, standing tall before you and snapping his thick fingers with a subtle point to the store's entrance. A determined beam lifting the ends of his lips in a unadulterated smile.

"Come on then. The Great Gojo's here to buy you your granny-pannies, Tiny-Chan!"

Without further ado, he'd openly took your small hands with his, striking an unforeseen bolt to your heart as he did so. His palms engulfing yours again in a warm, cozy embrace. It felt undeniably summery and this warmth you've felt that started from beneath your chest spread straight to your face and ears at the realization of what he was offering and suggesting on.

What Satoru wants. He gets. You damn knew that from the moment you were forcibly fed by his mushrooms; his iron-willed opinions over choosing the better and expensive stores instead with the additional persistence and annoyance he was having over your timidity by the prices he found cheap.

He always had the final say through it all. Hence, your augustness were being put to torture whenever he was around, exploring matters and events that you had never experienced or come across to in terms of being accompanied by the opposite sex.

"I wouldn't want to miss the sight of you choosing which granny-pannies is best anyway!"

He was teasingly whistling to himself, easy-peasy dragging you towards the intimate apparel shop along his large strides as you tried to pull him back. But, much to the embarrassment he was bringing you in---the trembles of your knees for how your senses heightened towards his large hand that felt so comfortable with yours---no matter how you tried to pull back with all your weight and tried to intentionally made yourself heavier. The white-haired sorcerer paid no heed to it as if it was as easy as ABC.

It wasn't helping that people who passed by began giving you both looks over how hilarious you appeared to be, in some way he had you squatting the floors just for you to intentionally put more weight to his yanking. However, this was still a facile action for the Jujutsu Sorcerer as you had no idea over his attested strength.

Dragging you around to where he wanted was simply a piece of piss.

"GOJOOOO! PEOPLE ARE LOOKING---! CAN'T---CAN'T YOU JUST WAIT OUTSIDE?! I'M A BIG GIRL NOW---! LISTEN---LISTEN! HAVE YOU EVER HEARD OF FERGIE'S SONG 'BIG GIRLS DON'T CRY?' SHE STATED THAT THE PATH THAT I'M WALKING, I MUST GO ALONE---! WHICH MEANS I'M GOING ALONE INSIDE!"

He went on with his harmless torments. Playfully whistling louder to himself. A hand hidden inside the pocket of his pants, never once budging through your obstinate resistance over trying to break free from his hold as he'd ignored your random reference that he had comprehended, knowing full well who 'Fergie' was and that she also bizarrely exists in his dimension.

It was in all respects weird to analyze that there were parts that existed and there was parts that didn't exist in your dimension and his.

Gojo chuckle had been easy on the ears, the succeeding response poking fun over your unsystematic references and quotes that were of reflex by the slips of your tongue whenever you were on the verge of being anxious or with one's stomach in knots. "You take baby steps, Tiny Chan. You're not full grown. Which means that you need to be accompanied by a handsome adult like me." the gigantic, lanky, white-haired Jujutsu Sorcerer supported your reference with the same context that you had tried to cajole him in. Yet, this has hit you on the face with a brick because his comeback consisted of sarcastic mocks over your height.

Your eyes widened at that, trying to push and bop his hand off yours in repeat as you exclaimed and held such ire for the realization that you were loudly announcing your subconscious thoughts out in the open, "WHAT? JENNIFER LAWRENCE AND FERGIE EXISTS BUT NOT ME?" you've huffed out loud, struggling against Satoru's hold, "---REALLY?!"

"Gojo, huh?" Satoru snickered, "Haven't I told you that I don't like hearing it from you?" he sing-songed and whistled with a loud cackle, heedless of the toothy grin he was honing on, "---Also, It's Satoru, I say. Sa-to-ru. Understand?" he emphasized with each vowel, gamesomely stressing on the diphthongs while subtly giving you the side-eye and seeing the mischievous flicker it held once he did before he continue to pull you over the entrance.

"I-I TOLD YOU, IT WAS A JOKE! CAN'T YOU TAKE A DAMN JOKE?! STOP PULLING ME!"

It was a sudden slip of your tongue due to his intentional torments. Your mouth running in the desperate pleading for the embarrassment that was bound to be felt once you were within the perimeters of the store.

You were steps away along the entrance of the store. Satoru took a dramatic pause, halting in the middle of the transparent glass door as if he remembered something. You've struggled to escape through his lenient but tight hold, rolling those wrists of yours in an attempt to be free but no great outcome came to it as this was---the strongest jujutsu sorcerer you were trying to break-free from.

Hence, it was impossible--- a far fetched image especially when you were going on the lam. An impractical choice to be touched or held by Gojo Satoru from the start.

He'd slightly turned his heels. Your shame taking over your body to ever notice that Satoru had taken a glimpse of his own hand that connected with yours. A brief, vacant gaze that pooled along his heavenly eyes before he was quick upon catching his own peculiar diversion standpoints.

The latter leaned his head to the side, mantling his own perceptions that were currently unknown to you and especially to everyone in the world. He'd veiled it with a firm, melodious click of his tongue that followed through a mischievous shake of his head. The both of you mentally remembering the aftermath when you've expressed yourself in your vernacular, your face being the one in utter tortures to Gojo's unconstrained preference to pinch on your cheeks.

He just mushed them up till they were irritated and inflamed, earning lots of stank eyes from your side and a lot of bleats over how desensitized he made them be with thorough twines of 'You're gonna pay for this' and the pinching idiot understood them literally by deliberately responding and be smug that he was bank on upon paying for everything today anyways, so what was there to be said?

"You're really pigheaded to listen. Tsk. Tsk. Such a stubborn, stubborn, girl!"

I told you, guys. This chapter was bound to have a lot of parts because I planned to tell what happened to them in this entire shopping spree treat with Gojo. FEEDBACKS ARE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED! EEEEEEEE~ <3 To the ghost readers out there, don't be shy to comment hi! Heehee. <3 I don't bite! <3 

#gojo x you #seb-owns-these-tatas #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #gojo angst #gojo headcanons #gojo x y/n #gojo x reader #satoru gojo fic #satoru gojo drabble #satoru gojo fanfiction #satoru gojo x y/n #satoru gojo headcanons #satoru gojo #gojo fluff #satoru gojō x reader #jjk #gojo fanfic #7th dimension #gojou x you #gojou satoru

[whatdoidosatoru]

me @ myself before even posting the fic I've been writing now: hey what about a new project...

#help it's not just contained to not finishing shows or books #it's a plague #but gamer streamer satoru is living in my head rent free for a few days now #i have to #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #satoru gojo #satoru gojo fic

[missmeinyourbones]

hi, congrats on ur milestone! can i request gojo with #2 from the midnights prompts list from lavender haze? thank u!

ALL THIS SHIT IT NEW TO ME (s. gojo)

a/n: reader is on their period, satoru calls reader sweet girl and m'lady once, suggestive towards the end with mentions of pregnancy and period sex

L’s MIDNIGHTS EVENT!

Your phone vibrates against the wood of the bedside table.

"Hello?"

Sounding slightly out of breath, Satoru immediately responds on the other side of the call.

"Hi."

Silence takes over the line as he refuses to elaborate any further on his reason for calling. Between whatever the hell he's playing at right now and the dull sensation of what feels like clawing inside of your abdomen, your patience wears thin.

Your second greeting comes less friendly, "Hello?"

"Are you okay?" he instantly asks.

Is he on drugs?

Satoru can practically see your teeth gritting on the other end of the line as you sigh and take a moment to collect your thoughts. With an exhausted and irritated tone, you scoff.

"Are you okay?"

"Your text," he softly points out.

You sigh. Satoru had left early this morning for work, as he usually does. It wasn't until you woke up late with a massive migraine and familiar ache in your stomach that you realized you started your period. It being a bit early this month, you were out of tampons and naively texted your boyfriend to pick you up some his way home.

You should've known it seemed a bit too easy when he merely replied with a thumbs-up.

Fingers pressing the bridge of your nose, you do your best to stay somewhat pleasant.

"…What about it?"

"I'm at the store now," Satoru states the obvious. You can hear the diluted commotion of other shoppers around him, the sound of items being scanned and shopping carts being steered.

He may mean well, but you're failing to see the purpose of his call, "And you're calling me because…?"

"This is such a scary aisle," he says beneath his breath, but you hear him all the same.

You can practically see his pout of cluelessness as he stands before the aisle, hand on hip and sighs, "There's so many… things going on."

"I sent you a picture of the box, Satoru," your eyes instinctually roll back like muscle memory. A cramp hits you a bit harder than the rest and you wince, desperate for his help, "Please, I'll Venmo you."

You hear a muffled scoff from the other line, "No, that's not what I mean. Never say that again."

"Then what do you mean?"

Walking the line between being in over his head and weirdly intrigued, Satoru hums to himself.

"There's like… a million options."

Your hand flexes in on itself in irritation, nails leaving crescents on your palm when you bite, "It's really not that hard when I sent you a visual aid."

"All this shit is new to me," his voice gets muffled a bit and you can tell he's wedging the phone between his shoulder and ear.

You hear the sound of plastic being fondled when he innocently asks, "There's sizes? What size are you?"

"It's not a size thing, Satoru—"

He interrupts you, "It says there's different settings—”

"Settings?" You're going to kill him.

"Yeah," he responds too casually for the situation. "Regular, super, super plus. What the fuck is ultra?"

It's borderline comical, the way you look up to the ceiling in disbelief. If there's a god in heaven, he'll make it so Satoru hangs up the damn phone and gets his ass back in the car within the next minute.

"Like I said in the text," your tone is cold and irritated, "the regular ones are fine."

It's silent for a beat when Satoru whispers, "Are you sure?"

"What do you mean am I sure?" you try not to spit venom. "I've only been doing this for over ten years."

"I mean, I'm pretty big though, and—”

"This is so different, oh my god," you groan, head in hands. "Get the regular ones."

More rustling of plastic and shuffling ensues. "Okay, okay, getting the regular ones. Damn, they make you pay for these?"

"Yes, Satoru," you hiss through a clenched jaw. "Anything else or can I hang up on you now?"

You hear him moving, and you can only pray that it's towards the checkout area, when he breathes, "Actually, yeah.”

You should've known not to ask, as Satoru readjusts his grip on his phone and smoothly taunts, "Are you more likely to get pregnant on your period? Asking for a very interested friend."

The sound of the call ending is his cue to swipe his card.

…

Not long after and in the middle of his lunch break, Satoru arrives home.

He's all smiles when he knocks on the half-open bedroom door, and he sympathetically smirks when he's met with your icy glare and bedhead.

He presents the plastic bag of goodies with a dramatic bow, “M'lady."

"Thank you," grumbles from your lips as you practically snatch it from his hand.

Satoru sits on the edge of the bed next to your limp body, "Anything for you, sweet girl."

His hand finds your tender side as he rubs gentle and warm circles on your skin, a weak attempt to ease any pain of yours he can. He leans back on his palm as he watches you rustle through the bag.

"Got you some other stuff, too," he says, hand finding your hair and gently scratching your head.

It's sweet of him, really. Your usual box of tampons sits on top of the items, followed by a few of your favorite candies and one of those makeshift heating pads shaped like a stuffed animal. You already have about five of them, but it's the thought that counts.

Feeling yourself ease up at his good intentions, you go to thank him—but another package at the bottom of the bag has you glaring at him.

"Satoru…"

"Yeah, baby?"

"Condoms?" you hold out an unopened box of his favorite brand and toss them his way.

"Oh, yeah," he moves the hand in your hair down to your neck, stroking its side softly.

His breath is warm on your skin when he leans in to press a gentle kiss to the spot he knows you like beneath your ear. Though you huff at the insinuation, he doesn't miss how you shiver a bit beneath his lips.

"During my lengthy and extensive research, I read that sex can help cramps," he declares proudly, nudging your throat with the tip of his nose.

“Who were you keeping that detail from, hmm?"

#L's MIDNIGHTS EVENT! #gojo x reader #gojo x you #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #gojo fluff #satoru gojo fluff #satoru gojo fic #gojo fic

[tonycries]

Bad Boys Bring Roses - G.S.

Synopsis. You’ve never dealt with the yakuza - not once. So why is the future head of the Gojo clan suddenly coming up to you, demanding that you marry him for 30 days?

Pairing. Yakuza boss! Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, yakuza! au, fake marriage, annoyances to lovers, elders suck, mentioned k*lling (not reader or Satoru), Satoru is INSANE and SO down bad, one bed trope, praise, biting, oral (fem receiving), fíngering, unprotected, créampie, spitting, overstim, flower language, kníves, bit dark, HAPPY ENDING, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 9.1k (whoopsies)

A/N. I just HAD to get this out of my mind like I wanna write an entire book series on this. Spent too long researching rose language as well so see if y’all catch that hehe.

You thought the wedding invitation was a joke when it had arrived - a delicate, lacey little card that you’ve probably read over a million times by now. It had been stuffed haphazardly into your mailbox, along with a ridiculously large bouquet of purple roses. Seemingly inconspicuous when you first tore into the thick envelope, wondering which one of your friends was getting married now. 

And it was - that is, until you saw your name at the very top - right where the blushing bride’s was supposed to be. 

We hereby formally invite you to the marriage of…

What? 

No return address. No date. No groom’s name either. Only yours, written in beautiful, golden writing - inviting you to your own wedding, exactly a week from now.

You remember perfectly the way you’d flipped it over and over in your hands, the gears turning in your head as you tried to crack down on the motive behind this invitation. A threat? A joke? Texting all of your friends about what a cute prank that was - only to get a shared confused reaction, and a few “April Fool’s has already passed, y’know.”

Hell, you’d even cornered the mailman, desperate to get to the bottom of this. But that wasn’t particularly helpful when he was only able to shake his head in protest, pale as a sheet, and trembling ever-so-slightly as he sped away from you. Weird. 

Without a clue as to who sent the letter, or even a follow-up in the days after, you stuffed the invitation somewhere deep in the back of your closet and handed the bouquet to your mother. Not bothering to tell your parents where it was from - because who’d worry over a stupid prank like this? It was probably one of the kids from down the street that’d gotten their grubby lil’ hands on a printer. 

You, however, had more important things to focus on - like trying to help your father revive his failing diner. It was a family business, a quaint, hearty little shop. One that was quickly, and dangerously, losing both customers and employees with the brand new fast food place that’d popped up right across the street. 

Which is why you found yourself here - working overtime on a Saturday night, looking over the empty chairs and stacks of boxes from behind the counter. Whatever, it was only a few weeks until relocation anyway.

You heave out a sigh, eyes flitting to the clock beside you - 11:21pm.

Nine minutes more, you drum your fingers in boredom, maybe you should just close up early. Because sure as hell no one else was-

“Oh? Still open?”

“Ah- Uh, yes, welcome!” Jolting out of your reverie, you stand up ramrod straight, taking in the customer standing at the door. He wasn’t one of the regulars - no, you think you’d remember if he was. Cloudy white hair, piercing blue eyes that twinkle from above his shades, even in the dim light of the diner. He was so very tall, taking up almost all of the doorframe, only getting more and more imposing as he walks up to you in quick, long strides. Magnetizing. 

And if you dared let your eyes wonder, you caught a few tattoos peeking out from his unfairly snug button-up, clashing with its flashy blue color. Dragons? Trees? Or were they flowers - roses?

“Roses.” the man in front of you answers your unspoken question, voice so very deep, and melodic - tinged with something playful in it that you wouldn’t have expected at first glance. At your raised brow he continues with a wink, “Could tell ya were checkin’ me out, sweetheart.”

“F-forgive my rudeness, sir.” you sputter, face burning. You look away from the way his muscled ripple as he crosses his arms, immediately turning to fumble with the menus, “Please take a seat and I’ll be there with you shortly.”

You’d expected him to take up a booth, or maybe head towards one of the good tables around the corner. What you did not expect was for him to plop down on the stool right in front of you, flashing you a playful grin before humming, “S’alright, m’just waitin’ for someone.”

Oh. Well, it made sense that someone like him would be taken. Swallowing, you hand over the menu, before giving him a close-lipped smile, “A lover?”

Resting his head on his palms, not bothering to even glance at the list of dishes before him. “My fiancée.”

“Congratulations, Mr…”

“Gojo Satoru.” he tilts his head, looking way too happy with himself. “Please, call me Satoru.” 

You nod softly, picking up your pen and notepad to get this conversation over with - and maybe to also avoid his heavy stare that made something hot and uncomfortable coil in your stomach. “Right, Mr-” at his disappointed whine, “Satoru. Congratulations, must be one heck of a thing to plan.”

“Oh I’m having fun with the wedding planning.” He waves off your words with a chuckle, missing - or pointedly ignoring - the way you were waiting for his order. “How’s it going for you?”

What?

You narrow your eyes at the way Satoru was batting those long lashes up at you, deceivingly innocent and waiting for your answer. “I’m sorry- Me? Did you mean with the diner relocation plans or-”

“No no no.” he laughs, loud and boisterous. And usually you’d have a thing or two to say at someone interrupting you if you weren’t so mesmerized by that little dimple at the corner of his grin. One that moves as he plows on, “M’asking how wedding planning is going for you, wifey~”

There’s a beat of silence. One. Two. With you gaping at the pure audacity as Satoru quiets down to little titters, seemingly studying your reaction in amusement. Which slowly, but surely, drains from his face as you grit out a sharp, “I’m gonna have to ask you to leave, sir. We’re very busy and don’t have time to entertain your pick-up lines.”

Those widened blue eyes sweep the painfully empty diner, letting out a low whisper. “I can see that.” you let out a strangled noise of embarrassment at that. “But you’re really gonna ask your husband to leave?”

Huffing in frustration, “I don’t have a husband.”

“...you do.”

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

“I don’t. And who the fuck are you to tell me I do?”

“What?!” Satoru jumps out of his seat in shock, fast enough that the stool clatters to the floor with a deafening clang! Hands slamming on the counter as he leans over it - so close that you could feel his minty breath fanning your face with each hurried, shrill word that tumbles out of his lips. “What do you mean you don’t have a- I’m gonna kill those fuckin’- After I bought Canva premium just to make that invitation? Did the flowers come at least?”

And while Satoru is panicking, words spilling out of his mouth a mile a minute - only one of those rings in your mind - invitation. 

“You.” you hiss, barely audible over meltdown in front of you. Pointing a finger accusingly, “You’re the one behind that prank with the dumbass roses.”

That seems to snap Satoru out of his dramatic monologue - and you’re glad it did. Because he looks up to meet your glare, “Hey! You didn’t like the roses?” 

And for the first time, you see Satoru more serious than he’d been ever since stepping into this diner. Eyes somewhere behind you, ablaze and almost…frightening. “Didn’t you ask him?” 

You whirl around to see your father, who’d apparently rushed downstairs at the commotion. Baseball bat to fight off the intruder hanging in midair as he stands frozen, taking in the scene before him - but more importantly, that man in front of him. “You.”

---

And, well, it’s not everyday that you’re having late night tea with your parents and one of your father’s…business associates. Even rarer when said business associate is…you gulp, praying to whoever’s above that this is all some sick dream you’ll wake up any second from. 

“So, let me get this straight…” you sigh, pinching your nose in frustration. It’s been an hour or two of trying to understand whatever this was. Giving a stern look at the two men squirming across from you in the booth. “My father was conned by one of your-” you gesture your head at Satoru, which only makes his smirk grow, “-men to take a loan from your um-”

“Family, yakuza. Anything goes.” he supplies helpfully.

You wave him off, trying as quickly as possible to brush off the ‘yakuza’ bit that makes your stomach lurch. “And now he owes you a favor of…what exactly?”

Satoru leans across the table, t-shirt opening tantalizingly. Voice dropping to an almost-pleading murmur, “Look, I just need you to pretend to be my doting, loving, charming, gorgeous-” backtracking at your withering glare, “...Anyway. I just need a fake wife for a few months, convince my family to get off my back about arranged marriage n’ carrying the Gojo legacy. Then bam! you stomp all over my heart, we divorce and I’m too heartbroken to ever get married again. Easy.” 

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

You bet Satoru’s disappointed groan echoed across all 23 words of Tokyo, because it was definitely ringing in your ears amongst whirlwind thoughts of marriage? To a yakuza? Completely, and utterly ridiculous. And from his talks of “carrying the family name” it seemed like he was some sort of future head as well. Though, he definitely wasn’t acting like it right now. 

“Alright. Plan B, then.” 

Oh? You couldn’t help but think that maybe he wasn’t that much of a manchild as sits up from where he’d been splayed all over the table in tragedy. Lacing his fingers together before turning to your father, continuing in a more diplomatic tone, “But I want the cash you took. In full. Now. Gonna hafta disguise my best friend as my wife, n’ dresses for a six foot man aren’t cheap.”

Your mother looked like she could faint right then and there. Choking out a noise of surprise, “B-but we’ve deposited it all for the relocation- Please, can’t we pay any other-”

At the firm shake of his head, you stammer, “Now? Aren’t you some yakuza nepo baby, can’t you just ask your parents for money?”

“No.” Satoru chuckles, in a tone which told you that he probably could but might just lose his head for it. Only further supported as he muses, “Not unless I want a finger cut off for dealin’ money on the side. Seriously, sweetheart, why did you think I sent you the invitation last week?”

“Take me instead.” you father cries, trying to negotiate above Satoru’s half-joking mutters of “Ugh, I’m not into ol’ men dumb enough to sign yakuza contracts.”

It was all too much. You couldn’t take out the relocation deposit - it was a new start, possibly the only thing to save your family. Nor do you have enough in savings to pay back the loan. And if Satoru’s warning was anything to listen to, then you knew that dealing with the yakuza could be dangerous. Why you? Why you? Why you? 

“Fine.”

The moment that word leaves your lips, it’s like the whole world freezes. Everyone in the room - including yourself - unsure of whether they heard you right. “I’ll do it.” you clarify, voice hesitant but firm. Eyeing the way Satoru’s eyes begin to sparkle, the beginnings of a smile curling his lips. Raising a finger to shush your father’s protests, “But for a month, until we leave this place. After that m’going with my family and you’re never to contact us ever again. Deal?”

And oh Satoru seemed over the moon, reaching out to grasp your hand in a handshake - so warm, and softer than you’d imagined. “Swear on m’life, wifey. You can kill me if not.”

He was so intimidating - and intimidatingly exhilarating.

Only an hour more of arguing and a quick phone call later, men - yakuza, you assume - were flooding your family’s little diner. All tattooed and burly, looking somewhat comical as they carried your few packed-up suitcases outside. Well, at least they stayed for a late dinner. 

And ended up being witnesses to a very rushed, very rushed signing of marriage agreements. Evidence to really show up your alleged marriage. It barely even lasted a few minutes before, well, that was that - you were married, to the son of a yakuza head. 

You say a quick goodbye to your teary parents, soothing them with promises of “I’ll be back before you know it. One month. That’s all.” 

“And don’t worry about a thing,” Satoru sing-songs, coming up behind you. “If there’s anyone she’s safe with, it’s me.”

“You better keep your mitts off of my baby.” your father warns, raising the baseball bat still clutched in his hand menacingly. 

“I won’t lay a hand on her, father-in-law. And anyone that even thinks about it…” he cackles, breath hot against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “I’ll kill.”

Prancing off to hold the door of that shiny black Mercedes parked outside open for you. “Ladies first.”

With another quick hug to your parents, you hastily make your way inside. Feeling extremely out of place amongst the overly luxurious interior in your slightly-stained work uniform. God, the covers on these cushions themselves probably cost more than your house. 

“Like the car? I can buy you one. Or four, as a wedding gift.” Satoru grins. 

Oh, right. You weren’t in here alone - you were here with your new…husband. The word felt so strange to even wrap your head around, instead you turn to meet his easy smile. Clenching your jaw as you grit out, “So how do we act m-married?”

You swear he brightens up impossibly, scooting closer to you on the seat. Heart lurching as he raises his eyes to meet yours, dizzy with the heat of his proximity, he promptly pulls out his Notes app. 

“Well, you see. I forgot to send this with the invitation so you better memorize this before we get home.” flashing you a long, long list of likes and dislikes, “Here’s my favorite color and my favorite Digimon and-”

That car ride could not have been longer. Because in addition to arguing with Satoru about who the best Digimon was, you had to fill out your own version of his overly extensive list. “So we can be foolproof.” he’d whined. And you’d been so engrossed in the process that you barely noticed the looming estate out the window.

“We’re here, young master and madam Gojo.”

It took a second to register that the driver was talking to you as well as Satoru, immediately pushing your face against the window to take in the scenic site before you. Heavy wooden doors - probably taller than an average house - opening to reveal sprawling gardens. Koi ponds and rose bushes lining a pathway that led to a traditional Japanese house - all power and glory. You half wondered whether you were still in Tokyo. 

“Home sweet home.” Satoru grunts. “Such a beautiful hell, huh?”

Your home, for the next month. At least. 

And if you had any doubt that Satoru was in fact the future yakuza head, that all went out the window at the welcome you got. Men lining the wooden hallway, bowing at the waist while your all-new husband wraps a hand around your shoulders, pointing out the various rooms and ornaments as he led you in. 

“-and this is going to be our room.” he brings you in front of a large tatami room, one the size of your entire diner. 

“Ours.” you repeat. Walking unhurriedly to the king-sized bed in the middle - the only bed. Heart pounding as you take it all in. 

“Ours.” Satoru echoes, happily. And if he was any bit as affected as you are, then he doesn’t show it, instead pulling out a blue yukata from the closet, a golden Gojo emblem stamped on the back. Made with such a pretty, delicate fabric that it made you shiver to think how much it cost. “Now, I had these made jus’ for you last week. You can give me a lil’ fashion show tomorrow, so make sure you get some rest, wifey.”

It’s only when he says the word “rest” that you realize exactly how tired you are. Your long shift and the entirety of this having your eyes feeling heavier than usual. 

“Um…” you start, risking a glance at the bed. 

Satoru jolts, “Ah- don’t worry, sweetheart. You take the bed.” beginning to saunter outside to meet his team. “Got some work, so I’ll be sleeping in my office. Dream of me~”

And, really, you almost felt bad splaying yourself out on the crisp navy sheets. Sinking into the heady smell of fabric softener, and something so so Satoru. Addictive. Like an expensive cologne that made your head spin, one that wafted through your mind as you dreamt of summer weddings, and blue, blue skies.

“Ichiji.”

“Yes, young master.”

“See to it that the madam is safe. Anyone try anything funny and you bring them back alive. I wanna be the one to play with them, okay~?”

“Of course, young master.”

---

Admittedly, you probably have the best sleep of your life at the Gojo estate- or, it would’ve been if your husband didn’t burst in every morning at 7am. Handing you a ridiculously big bouquet of white roses, straight from the garden, before dragging you outside. 

Milling about the estate, Satoru was never too far behind, chattering away. Letting you hold onto his strong arm crossing the bridges, occasionally having you show up to yakuza meetings as his plus one. Relishing in the rumors spreading all through the yakuza syndicates in Tokyo. Gojo Satoru, and the commoner wife he’d do anything for.

Weirdly enough, some strange little part of you thinks he puts in a lot more work than necessary for some pretend relationship…

“I think that stupid plan is really working, y’know.” you muse to him after a few days of this. Dipping your fingers into one of your favorite koi ponds with a nod at the figures watching you from a distance - Gojo clan elders, you assume. “Those old coots hate being within a five mile radius of me.”

Satoru huffs out a laugh, “That so? S’probably the method acting then, huh? Taking good care of me, wifey?” he wiggles his eyebrows, nudging you from where he was holding an umbrella beside you. 

Furrowing your brows mockingly, “S’funny for you to say, they don’t even look at me. But they follow me around everywhere.”

“Do they annoy you, must I do my duty as a husband and gouge their eyes out?”

He…didn’t sound like he was joking. 

Rolling your eyes, you pointedly ignoring the way your heart lurches at the word “husband.” Still so jumpy at the idea. “Speaking of, your parents give up the marriage proposals, yet?”

At this, Satoru clenches his jaw. “Still nagging, but they’re finally considering you as my actual bride rather than some hijink.” he spits out, seemingly recalling whatever conversation they’d had before. “And they want to have some family ‘dinner’, but it’s going to be awful and you don’t-”

“Let’s go.” you interrupt, nodding determinedly. “The realer this marriage seems, the faster we can divorce, no?”

He blinks at you slowly, “That’s…true. For the divorce, then?”

“For the divorce.”

And, well, that was settled - you were to meet your new in-laws. The ever-elusive heads of the Gojo clan. Also one of the most powerful yakuza in all of Japan, but, semantics really.

You spend the evening cooped up with Satoru in the library, poring over the bloody history of the yakuza - with the Gojo’s heading them all. The only time he actually leaves your side is a few hours before the dinner. 

“For you.” he’d murmured, lips ghosting your ear, slipping something cold onto your finger. You look down to see one of the most beautiful rings you’ve ever seen - gold, with delicate blue and white diamonds encrusting it, cut in the shape of roses. “Can’t be married without a wedding ring, huh? Think of it as a good luck charm for tonight.”

And with that he’s swept away in a flurry of bodyguards and ruffled men, and you’re left standing there all alone. Cheeks burning, wondering how the hell he knew your perfect fit. 

You worry longer about the dinner than you spend actually preparing for it. Though, that’s probably because of the group of stylists that come into your room to help you dress. Wordlessly fussing around you despite your weak attempts at conversation, eyes averted. Almost like they were…scared of you. 

But there wasn’t much time to think of that - not when you’re being marched off in the direction of what you remember Satoru had called the family dining room. “More like a fuckin’ meeting room for those hardasses.” he’d snarked.

The moment you step in, all eyes turn to you - the only ones you recognize being Satoru’s, who immediately stands with a smile. “Ah, wifey! Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” pulling you into a tight hug. His voice drops into a low, raspy murmur in your ear, “Ya look fuckin’ gorgeous in my colors, y’know.”

Traitorously, jolts of electricity run down your spine. Especially at how fucking gorgeous he looked in traditional wear. Whispering back, “Playing up the doting husband bit, huh?”

“Only for you.”

Pulling away, you drink in his dangerously handsome state. Hair so effortlessly styled, tattoos winking at you from just above his yukata - blue, to match yours. So pretty.

Stammering out, “Corny.”

“Only for-”

“Now that the girl is finally here, may we begin with dinner?” A stained voice sounds from behind Satoru, old and tinged with a tone that years of customer service told you did not bode well. Craning your head, you look over his broad shoulders, meeting the eyes of several disapproving elders. 

Shit. Some of the most dangerous people in this country right now. 

Gathered here - for you. 

Automatically, you knew which ones were his parents - painfully upright, and hauntingly beautiful in a cold, calculated way. Sat right at the head of the long table. With a jolt, you realize that you two are seated right opposite them. 

“So.” his mother starts, as you take your seat with a bow. Satoru doesn’t waste any time on niceties, plopping down right next to you, scooting closer than necessary. “Congratulations on the…wedding, my son.”

My son. You ignore the way both parents pointedly avoided looking at you. Your husband, however, does not. “What~ Not gonna wish my dear wife as well?”

It’s a silent staredown - one that has the entire room on edge. You don’t realize that you’re clenching your fists in tension until Satoru untangles them, slipping his larger hands into yours. Gaze still alarmingly intense and locked on the other side of the table.

He wins.

“Congratulations. Let us begin now.” 

You breathe out a sigh of relief, the tension only slightly broken as butlers stream into the room, carrying decadent trays of food. Well, at least the food might make up for how appalling this dinner is going to be.

It’s only 15 minutes in that you realize how very, horribly wrong you are - because the elders of the Gojo estate really don’t hold back, do they? Thank God you memorized every part of that stupid likes and dislikes list.

Besides picking apart every aspect of your relationship that they could manage to squeeze out of you between the appetizer and the main course, the main scrutiny tonight seems to be you. But in that icy, subtle way that has Satoru’s jaw clenching tighter each second. 

Lips curling, Gojo senior eyes you over his wine glass. “So, dear,” voice dripping with underlying venom despite the pet name. “Is it true our Satoru missed an esteemed marriage meeting with the Zenin group to ambush you at some rundown old diner?”

You fight to keep the smile plastered onto your face, painful and cracking under the pressure. A hand squeezing under the table to stop Satoru from opening his mouth to retort, you answer instead, “Well, ambushed wouldn’t be the word. You could say we fell in love over the counter - at my family’s diner.”

“A waitress, she said?”

“Now we know why it was this rushed. Probably pregnant.”

“The scandal. How far the Gojo name has fallen.”

The few stifled gasps from the other end of the table are so dramatic that you could almost laugh. But you don’t. Breath hitching as Mrs. Gojo chuckles, “Marrying the daughter of a lowly diner owner? How... quaint.”

“Mother, be quiet or-”

“What?” she throws her hands in exasperation. “Can’t I say anything around here. Honestly, Satoru, I’m just trying to make conversation with your new wife.”

Before either you or Satoru can react, his father speaks up, apparently not done with the interrogation. “You understand that we’re just worried, right, dear? Especially with marrying into prestigious families, of course.” The emphasis on “prestigious” is not lost on you.” And it drives you insane. 

Steeling yourself, you train your eyes on the untouched food below you. “I understand.”

Plowing on as if trying to infuriate you, “And you understand that this position is dangerous? You’ll be targeted.”

“I understand.”

“Do you? Don’t be swept up in our Satoru’s charm and wealth, dear, my son just wants a way out of duty.” tone dripping with disdain, Satoru’s grip becoming tighter and tighter on yours. “The Gojo syndicate owns half of this city, we could bulldoze over that little diner of yours with only one phone call”

“My wife and I are leav-”

“I said I fuckin’ understand.” Your words hang in the air like a foul stench, and you raise your head to glare. If looks could kill, all the elders in this room would be six feet under and you’d be dancing on their graves already. “Neither me, nor my husband would ever let that happen because he knows a thing or two about respect, unlike you.” Lacing your fingers tighter with Satoru’s. “So shove your mighty family up your wrinkly asses. I don’t give a flying shit.” 

Eyes wide, jaws dropped, the old couple opposite you finally seems stunned into silence. And if it was any other situation you could’ve almost laughed at how similar they looked to Satoru when he found out you thought his proposal was a prank.

His father adjusts his glasses. “Perhaps that is so.”

Ah, if only the rest of the table would be quietened just as easily. 

“Not only is she a slut she’s a-”

Thud!

It all happens so fast you’re not even sure if your eyes are playing tricks on you. Because in a split-second, the knife that was at your side is suddenly embedded, deep into the wooden table - barely even an inch away from the elder that had spoken up. 

“You’re lucky I’m matching with my wife n’ didn’t want to dirty this new yukata.” a voice sounds from your side. Melodic and so so eerie that you don’t realize for a second that it’s Satoru - your Satoru. 

He loops an arm under your legs as he stands up. Easily maneuvering you into a princess carry, forcing you to cling onto his robes for dear life as your feet dangle from the floor. You look up - maybe to snap at Satoru to put you down - only for the words to die in your throat at how absolutely fucking feral your husband looked. Eyes wide, aura menacing. A grin gracing his features, not the familiar one which had your heart racing, no - something so dangerous and cold. 

“Now,” he hums. Turning his back to the room, gaze still locked with the shocked heads inside, “My lovely wife and I will be retiring. Won’t you all say goodnight to your future madam?”

You don’t know what shocks you more - the way everyone in that room mumbles out a disdainful little “Goodnight, ma’am.”, or the way Satoru cackles as he carries you to your shared bedroom. Laying you gently on the mattress with a quiet, “Be right back, sweetheart.”

What the fuck happened?

He could’ve killed that man. And looked like he wanted to. 

Your brain yells at you - run away run away run away- But you weren’t…scared? In fact, you don’t think you’ve ever been less fearful in your entire life. Especially not when Satoru stumbles back into the room, clearly rushing. Something warm spreading in your chest at the trays of food in his hands.

“Dinner’s better without a bunch of fossils on my kill list.” he grins. Settling right next to you on the bed, setting out the dinner he’d brought for you. And, well, you didn’t doubt that they really were on his kill list. 

“Hey, wifey.” Satoru speaks up after a few moments of silence, satisfied with the food laid in front of you. “M’sorry for putting you through that. No more family dinners from now.”

You inch closer to lay your head on his sculpted shoulder, a hand bringing up the food to his pretty lips. He smelled so good, faintly like pine, and clouds. It made you so dizzy. “Eat, Satoru.”

That’s all which is said, because maybe that’s all that was needed. And for a second there, you almost forget that this is all pretend.

---

“Hey, uh- mister. You alright?” you call out, voice barely audible over the rain. 

The sullen figure didn’t react at first, soaked through and eyes trained on the ground. Unmoving, even when you hesitantly drew closer, umbrella quivering in your hands. 

You should turn around - walk away like everyone else on the sidewalk was doing. But no, something about the way he sat alone, stoic to the storm around him made you inch closer. “Here.” you hold out your umbrella. “S’our diner’s, but you look like you could use this more than I do.”

He jolts, as if hearing you for the first time. A flash of blue, so quick you almost think you miss it. Still not raising his head fully, the man’s snowy hair tousles as he jerkily closes around the handle. Pretty. And so so sad.

“It’ll be alright.” you nod. 

And with that, you turn, running back in the rain to the haven of the diner, where your father was waiting impatiently - he’d just bought the boxes to start packing up for relocation. Fingers still burning ever-so-slightly where his hand had brushed against yours. How strange, you wondered his name.

---

Satoru stayed true to his word over the weeks that followed. His parents seemed well and fully intent on avoiding you. And, well, other than a few disdainful remarks, the elders mostly scurried away in fear at your very sight. 

The only thing that made your skin prickle was that the housekeepers had a penchant for peeping in on the two of you. Increasingly following you - they always did, but now…honestly, it was a bit disconcerting. 

But other than that, it was almost…peaceful. You wake up every morning to a large bouquet of burgundy roses at your bedside table - and a husband. Because Satoru had taken to sleeping on the little couch at the corner of your room every night - saying something about not wanting to rouse suspicion because if he actually had a wife he’d be “taking her to bed every night”. Somehow, you didn’t doubt it. 

“Funny how it’s getting close to a month of being married, but you haven’t even kissed me yet.” you deadpan. Looking down at where he was resting his head in your lap, sprawled across the soft grass in the garden.

Something else also happened - something different.

Because Satoru was a bit touchier, a bit closer. Like right now, preening into your fingers carding through his soft hair. “Oh~? Why, wanna take me to bed, wifey?”

“You wish.”

“Maybe I do.”

Your hands still, pulse racing as your eyes bore into Satoru’s, trying to figure out what sort of bad joke this was. Subconsciously, you find yourself leaning down closer - too closer. Close enough that you could count every shade of blue in his hungry gaze. But by the grace of whoever was above-

“Young master, please excuse the intrusion but you have-”

Sitting up abruptly, addressing the newcomer in a stone-cold tone. “How many fuckin’ times have I not told you to never bother me when I’m with my wife?”

The servant bows apologetically, sputtering out apologies as you move to get up. Flashing a smirk at Satoru’s dramatic pout, “I have to catch up on some reading anyway. See ya, Satoru.” 

“Noo~ my sweetheart don’t leave me~” 

You stifle a laugh at his little tantrum, so different from when he was serious. He was so….dizzying. “You’ll be okay, Satoru.” Glancing up nervously to meet the servant’s intense stare, studying the scene before him, how different his master was. “I’ll be at the library now.”

And Satoru notices - of course, he does. He sees that tiny flash of concern in your eyes. One that you might not have noticed yourself. He lowers his voice as you walk away, so you don’t hear him speaking behind you. Words dripping with a similar venom he always heard from his parents, “Now, tell me who you’re spying for. Names, first and last.” 

Satoru doesn’t join you in the library that day, the first time in weeks. And you find yourself missing him more than you should. It’s dark out by the time you’re raising your head from the books, joints aching from poring over them for hours. The house seems a lot quieter. Somewhat bigger. 

Something was wrong. Something was wrong. Something was wrong. 

Scratching the back of your head, you wander through the wooden hallways to your bedroom - wondering what was amiss. Your feet take you there as if on autopilot, thankful for Satoru’s meticulous tours. 

“Hey,” you smile softly at a servant making your bed, “Where are-”

Your question dies in your throat at the way she yelps at your words, hurrying down the corridor with a jerky bow. Weird. Leaving you all alone, and confused, muttering to yourself, it’s only then that you notice the flash of red by your bedside table. 

Not a bouquet. Only a single, red rose - a note tied around the stem, something you’d never gotten before. 

“The marriage proposals have been revoked, your contract is fulfilled, my ex-wife.”

Oh, reading that hurt more than it should’ve. You should be happy at being free, a few days earlier than expected at that - but it was over - just like that. You didn’t want to leave him. You didn’t want to leave him.You didn’t want to leave him.

 Were you going insane?

Clutching the flower like a lifeline, heaving out a sigh, “Maybe Satoru knows…”

“Thinking of me?”

Startled, you whirl behind to face your husband. In the dim-lighting, making out the stoney expression on his face, eyes wide and a little duller than they had been earlier today. 

“Satoru?”

His eyes light up at the mere sound of your voice - then you’re engulfed in him. Wrapping you in his arms, bowing his body into yours, so tight that it almost hurts. But you let him, fisting the fresh yukata in your hands - and that’s when you realize, he’s changed his robes since this morning. “Are you okay?” you whisper into his shoulder. Drinking in the smell of his cologne, and something faintly metallic. 

Every cell in your body is screaming at you to take the opportunity - to run away from this yakuza and his slaughter and whatever this was. But how could you? Staying rooted to the spot, not even a speck of fear.

Satoru heaves out a heavy breath, tickling the hairs at your nape as he pulls you impossibly closer. “Those nosy elders won’t be bothering you anymore, sweetheart. You’re free to go.”

A shudder runs down your spine at his words, and you didn’t want to think too hard about what they meant. Instead, you guide him to your bed - and, surprisingly, he allows you to. Letting the two of you sink into the plush mattress. With Satoru still in your arms. He repeats, “You’re free to go.”

Run away. Run away. Run away-

There it was again - that strained little manta. You stare right into his eyes, voice thick at the sinking feeling in your stomach. “My 30 days aren’t over yet.” 

“Leave. Please.” he grunts into the crook of your neck, like your hands drawing patterns down his back had broken some dam. “M’not a good man.” 

You press your lips to his forehead, searing and a desperate attempt to soothe the man. “I think I’ll be the judge of that.”

“I’m yakuza, sweetheart. Doomed to follow my parents here.” he mutters, strained and voice more unsure than you’ve ever heard. And once he started, it was like Satoru just couldn’t stop, rambling into your skin, “I hate it here, and you should, too. All these fuckin-”

“So go with me instead.”

“What if-”

“Toru.‘ you cut off his words, slurring and spilling out of his mouth. Gently, you pry him away from his little haven, reeling back to take a good look at the face he’s been hiding for so long. Hair mussed, curtaining his whirling eyes - all disheveled and vulnerable where he was once so suave. 

Your eyes bore into his, unwavering. “It’ll be alright, Toru.”

And then he’s kissing you - and you’re kissing him. Only when his lips meet yours, soft, and so so sweet, do you realize that this is everything you ever want right now - possibly these past few weeks. “Y’can kill me if you don’ want his.” he mutters into your open mouth.  

It’s so desperate - a messy clash of teeth and saliva, Satoru was drinking you in like you were the last drop of water on Earth. He tasted so sweet, like candy almost, and the gentle caress of a lover. You were addicted like you could do this forever and ever and-

And then he’s pulling away. A disappointed little whine leaves you involuntarily as he parts, delicate strings of saliva snapping in the space between you two. Satoru’s mouth drops into a soft oh! at the noise, surging forward minutely like he was about to kiss you senseless again. Only to halt with a pained grunt, just a hair’s breadth from your lips. 

“M’sorry.” Claiming your lips once again, like a man possessed. Drinking in your breathless gasps. Like he never wanted to let go. “F-fuck, sweetheart. Y’don’t know how crazy you drive me.” he pants.

“Why did you pick me?” you blurt out, a question that had been nagging at the back of your mind every time Satoru slipped his hand in yours, introducing you as his loving wife. “Was it just the debt?”

He’s kissing your pulse now, canines hovering over the erratic little cadence. Breathing you in like you were intoxicating. “No.” he’s licking a long, languid stripe up your neck. Pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down every inch of skin he could reach. 

“Then why?” your words come out in almost an embarrassing plea. But by the way his breath hitches, you know that Satoru loves it. 

“Because.” he breathes, “You treated me like a human.”

He’s capturing your lips with his again, nipping at your bottom lips. You squeal as he pulls, suddenly wanting him to tease you like this everywhere. To have him absolutely ruin you like you know he could - treat you like the wife he claimed you were. 

But Satoru wasn’t done yet - far from it. He chuckles, kissing down your neck, fumbling with the ties of your yukata, “Remember that night? You probably don’t, was rainin’ so hard I thought I’d drown out there.” Worshiping the valley between your breasts as he hastily unbuckles your bra. “That night was when the marriage proposals had come in. They said I’d either carry the legacy or be forced to leave the family. Kicked out of my own home.” 

And you’re reeling from both his words and the way Satoru was rocking his hips into yours now, something hot, and so achingly hard pressing in the damp area between your legs. “Thought I was gonna take ‘em all out that night.”

“Take them all out?” your breath hitches.

“Every. Single. One.” Fingers dancing across the hem of your panties. “Wouldn’t have felt bad about it either.” 

Satoru’s licking down your navel now, humming in confirmation into your skin. “But then…” he groans, taking in the first fucking sinful sight of your drenched panties. So flimsy and already dripping for him - and after just a few kisses, really? You were heaven on Earth. “But then along came you. So pretty and all worried f’me. The daughter of that diner owner I’d loaned money too.”

You watch, heart racing as Satoru swallows in awe. Darkened gaze locked on the way your slick beads out of your pussy, bare thighs trying to close - give yourself some semblance of dignity. But no- how could you? When Satoru’s holding them apart.

“And then I knew…” he’s sliding his index underneath your panties up and down, grazing your swollen folds. Pooling your sweet sweet juices on his fingertip before popping it into his mouth. Eyes fluttering shut at the taste, and you’ve never seen him look so blissful. “I just had to have you.”

Rip! 

The cold air brushes against you before you even know it - only when you feel Satoru’s hot breath against your dripping cunt does it hit - this bastard just ripped your panties off. And he was dangling it like a badge of honor, breathing in your juices so animalistically. 

Your lips wobble as he just admires your pussy, the way it glistens and clenches around nothing. “Hah- please.”

“Please what?” he grins, and you can feel him licking little circles around your inner thigh. So close. “The wife of a yakuza boss has gotta know how to use her words.”

“You’re awful.”

“And yet you married me.”

With such a cute lil’ whine that makes Satoru’s cock twitch so painfully, you buck your hips closer to his hot mouth. “Wan’ your mouth on me, to eat me out. Please, Toru.”

He lets out a shuddering breath, “There’s my girl.”

You gasp when he surges forward, burying his pretty face nose-deep in your pussy. Holding your breath as he lazily licks up your folds - long, sloppy movements of his tongue all the way from your base to your swollen clit. Swirling deftly around the sensitive nub. 

Drunk off your pussy with the way he’s so messy - seemingly unable to decide between sucking harshly on your poor, ravaged clit to dipping into your sloppy hole. And it’s driving you mad, keening and pulling at his soft locks. You haven’t been touched this good in ages, and Satoru was well and fully intent on ruining you. 

“Shhh, don’t worry, wifey.” words muffled into your cunt, “Your husband’s gonna take care of you.” He’s throwing your legs over his broad shoulders.

“Real good care of you.” Then he’s plunging knuckle-deep in your plushy pussy, the tips of his long fingers massaging your plushy walls. Messy enough that your slick is trailing down his wrist. Roaming for that one spot he knows will have you moaning deliciously. Pressing down, hard.  “Found it. Gonna have you screamin’ my name til’ the entire estate hears.”

You tug on his hair, urging Satoru’s mouth towards your cunt - partially because you wanted him there, partially because you really needed him to shut up right now. 

And shit how could he ever say no to his pretty wife?

Satoru is grinning, you can feel it on your throbbing clit as he wraps his pretty pink lips around it. Pumping his fingers in and out, hitting that little spot each and every time. Looking like he was absolutely in heaven as he rolls and swirls his tongue against your clit over and over and-

“Sh-shit. Toru-”

“Mmm, yes- fuck, love it when you call me that.” he groans. And oh he’s looking at you like he wants to devour you - eyes half-lidded, such a pretty blush disting his cheeks - and making out with your pussy just as much. Tilting his head back, back, back so that your juices slide down his throat. “Feels good? Ya like when m’ruining your pretty pussy?”

“Yes!” you squirm. Shaking, bucking your hips into his touch so desperately. “Wanted it s’bad.” 

He’s becoming frenzied now, drinking in your cute little whimpers like he was addicted. But it wasn’t enough - it never was and fuck Satoru wanted more more more-

“Move your hips, yeah- jus’ like that.” Satoru’s grunting and smacking his lips against your own. Letting you pull and angle him just as you please. 

“Gonna be the best fuckin’ husband you’ll ever have. N’ anyone that says otherwise, m’gonna fuckin’ kill.” The vibrations have your body jerking violently. “Make you cum harder than y’ever have. C’mon, say yes.”

And with that, he’s alternating between lapping at your clit and bullying his tongue through your swollen folds. Stretching you, thrusting in and out of your sloppy hole. Jaw grinding deeper into you as he eats you out like his last meal. “Ngh- fuck, yes yes yes-”

“Beg for it, beg for your husband.”

“Wanna cum- Ah! Please, wanna cum, Toru.”

One hand so messy toying with your dripping entrance - not having the patience or the sanity to even draw circles anymore. Just quick, hurried patterns to get you off. The other digging into your hips, so hard you were sure it’d leave marks for tomorrow. Making you drag your sloppy pussy senselessly all over his mouth. Using him. 

“Hngh- Toru! Ah- fuck fuck Toru Toru T-”  You’re shaking - crying out as you cum. A guttural, strangled moan of your husband’s name. So violent, and hard that you don’t even realize at first. Just that you’re rocking your hips into Satoru, white-hot pleasure behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears.

And he doesn’t stop - not even once. If you were in any better state of mind you’d wonder whether it hurt - whether his fingers were cramping up, and his tongue was tired. If they were, he didn’t show, only letting you chase your high as roughly as you want. 

Greedily lapping up all your juices. Even when you’re blinking your vision back, chest heaving as you try to regain our breath. “S-Satoru.” you mewl, stars behind your eyes with each flick of his tongue. 

“Jus’ a bit more. Wanna taste all of you.”

You weren’t going to make it out alive.

Big, fat tears pricking at your eyes from the overstimulation as Satoru finally rises from what you almost worried would be his favorite seat. “All done. Now, keep that pretty lil’ cunt on display f’me, my girl.”

And your cunt is clenching in- fear? Anticipation? As your husband finally unties his yukata, letting it slide off those milky, toned shoulders. And shit he was such a fucking masterpiece. The dim-lighting bouncing off every curve and dip of those carved abs. Delicate swirls of his tattoo inching from his collarbone, down, down, down, hugging Satoru in a way that made you so half-lucidly jealous. All the way till the last inky thorn meets the neat tufts of white hair peeking up from the hem of his underwear. 

“Touch me.” he groans into your ear. The words barely leave those pretty lips before your hands are everywhere. Dancing down his tattoo, groping at this pecs - too much to worship, not enough time. 

“Toru…” you trail off, hand reaching out to brush his waistband. Tugging just enough that his throbbing cock springs out, hitting his sculpted abdomen. Red, and so so angry, fat tip weeping down his length, already so soaked in precum. He was so intimidatingly long - longer than anyone else you’d had before. Thick enough that you wondered whether you’d hurt yourself. 

And he sees right through you.

“Now now, none of that.” he tuts, pushing your bare thighs as far apart as they’d go. He spreads your cunt so shamefully with his thumb. Spitting once, twice. Some of it splatter against your thigh as Satoru mixes his saliva with your slick. “Don’t worry, wifey, m’gonna make it feel good for ya.”

You flinch as he uses you like some object. Dangerously liking it more and more as he drags his fat head down your folds. Wetting himself, all the preparation he was going to give you because fuck Satoru needed to be inside your pretty lil’ pussy right now. 

Then you feel like you’re being split apart - as if Satoru’s cock was pushing all the way to your lungs as he presses through the first ring of muscle.

“Ah! Ngh- Toru, s’too big!” you yelp, eyes locked on the way your lips were stretched so lewdly around his tip. Clamping and quivering as he keeps pushing in, inch by fucking inch. No mercy. Absolutely none at all. 

And while he sounded like he was on cloud nine, you were having your head spin, torn between wanting to run away from his massive cock and just push yourself down for more more more. His lips claim yours - absolutely animalistic because God he needed to shut up your pretty whines or else Satoru was going to cum right here right now.

“Breathe, sweetheart, breath. Ngh- You can take it.” Satoru pants into your mouth, fucking into you in mindless, shallow little thrusts just to fit inside your snug cunt. Sounding like he was losing his sanity each time your heavenly walls milked him. “So fuckin’ tight. Jus’ relax f’me. Oh yeah, jus’ like that. You can take it you can-”

You gasp for air when he finally bottoms out inside you, tears streaming down your face and clawing at his back. 

Satoru only coos, letting you mark him up all you want. Pace increasing relentlessly, “Aww, my good lil’ wife. Taking me so well, huh?” Starting to rock his hips just a bit faster into yours, “Always knew y’would.” 

“Can y’feel me, right-.” Balls smacking against your ass, his finger tracing an invisible line halfway down your tummy. “-here?” Thumb stroking where he could feel himself bulging inside you, pressing down. Hard. 

You almost sob at the pressure, jolting - you should’ve expected that the yakuza boss would fuck so mean.

And shit you can just do nothing but take it, hips jerking wildly as Satoru pounds into you with reckless abandon. Clutching at his shoulders, the sheets, his hair - just anything. 

“C’mon~ Don’t run away from me,” he grunts, strained like he’s struggling to maintain restraint. Lacing his fingers on top of your head to slide you impossibly deeper onto his cock. “Jus’ fuckin’ got you, so don’t you dare run away.”

You can only nod. Eyes glazed, cockdrunk and letting him thrust so sloppily. “Won’t run away Toru…” you babble, “Wan’ you to make me yours.”

“Mine? Gonna be all mine?”

“All yours, Toru.”

And maybe you were an idiot, maybe you were a mastermind - because with a choked out little moan of what sounded like your name, Satoru’s pulling you both to sit up. The gravity makes you bury his cock deeper and faster into your tight pussy.

With the new angle, your husband’s hitting all the right spots easily, almost as if he knew your body better than you did. Veins rubbing so deliciously against your walls, shifting around your hips to fuck up into that poor, abused spot. 

“Ya like this, huh?” he groans, fingers now toying with your ravaged clit. Rolling it around harshly between two fingers. “Always knew this cute pussy could take me s’well. Just didn’t know it would feel this fucking heavenly.”

Faster, sloppier. Bouncing you on his rock-hard cock  like he was claiming you from the inside. So, so desperate and debauched.

And exactly where you wanted to be. 

You leave delicate pink bites down this pale neck, alongside those roses - marking him in your own way as you edge closer and closer. It was too much. Everything was too much. 

“Toru-” you sob. And he already knew what that meant. With how your voice breaks so adorably and the way you’re clenching around him hard enough that it’s almost difficult to ruin that cute pussy. 

“Close?” 

“Mhm…”

“Well then.” thrusts getting sloppy, with no reason or rhythm now. Grip on your body tightening like a vice. “Cum f’me like a good lil’ wife, then.”

And that makes you throw your head back in ecstasy - it makes you cum. Thighs quivering, jolts of electricity running down all the way from your overstimulated cunt to your hazy mind. It has you chanting Satoru’s name like a lifeline while his teeth dig into your flesh. Hard enough that you distinctly wondered whether he was out for blood.

Letting out low, muffled moans into your neck while he cums as well. Hot ropes of seed filling up your poor, bloated pussy, painting your walls such a sinful white. Cumming and cumming so hard you wondered whether you’d make it out alive.

And because of the obscene position, you could feel the way it dribbled down your legs. Thick globs landing in a pool on the overpriced sheets below, smearing so lewdly between you two. Hips still fucking up into you - not even thinking about it as he pushes his seed deeper and deeper. 

You managed to raise your eyes, still dazed to meet his - exhausted, and dark with lust and something else that you really weren’t in the right mind to decipher right now. 

And then Satoru’s lips find yours again, biting and tugging lazily. Tasting so unfairly of candy and sweet, sweet trouble. Body melting into you like all the worries have been lifted from his shoulders. He’s looping his arms tighter around your waist, crushing you into an almost-painful hug against him. 

Something soft. Something new. Something that makes a little part of your heart twinge to break the kiss and pull away mere millimeters. “We better not divorce after this.”

“Of course not.” He chuckles into your lips, resting his forehead against yours like he was trying to map the constellations in your eyes. “I haven’t even given you my wedding gift yet.”

Smirking, you lock your legs tighter around Satoru’s toned waist as he lets the two of you fall back into the mattress. Sinking into it - and each other - with both exhaustion and something of a quiet, unspoken little fondness. Batting your lashes up at him, “Mhm, I remember someone talking about giving me four mercedes as a wedding gift and I’m leaving if not.”

“Well then, better get to it. Four for my in-laws to get on their good side, too,” he nuzzles the bite mark on your neck. “Because I plan to stay like this for a long, long time.”

A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #tonywrites

[chosos-mascara]

payback

𝙨𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙪 𝙜𝙤𝙟𝙤 𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 - after learning your boyfriend has been cheating on you, satoru devises a plan of payback.

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 - make out, love-bites, PiV, creampie, manipulative!Gojo, kinda yandere Gojo, kinda angsty to begin with, cheating!suguru, college au

minors + ageless dni 2k words

"He's not, he can't be-" Stuttered words fell from confused lips as you took a step backward, peering up to the blue eyes through tinted lenses. His mouth had been downturned, and the awkward body language had confirmed that the statement he'd spoken had been honest. But, you couldn't accept them.  "He is." Satoru's confirmation caused your stomach to churn, head shaking in disbelief. The pair of them were playful, often pranking one another - this had to be a remnant of that. A prank.

Though, you'd entertained the idea nonetheless, following the white head of hair through the crowd of civilians and stopping by a nearby tree, eyes lingering over the outstretched finger before following the line of direction. Sure enough, it had been Suguru, sat in a cafe garden opposite another woman, smiling wide. There had been a painful twang within your chest as you witnessed the interaction, desperately attempting to extinguish the flame of jealousy and hurt within your chest, and to reason with yourself. He wouldn't do that to you - this was probably a friend. 

But, as he'd leaned forward to place a kiss upon her glossy lips, there had been no explanation for his actions voiced within your head. Instead, mouth ajar, you watched through teary eyes. Satoru hadn't lied; Suguru had in fact been cheating on you.  "Why-" You began, blinking eyes to allow tears to fall, instead of allowing sobs rake through you. "Why did you tell me?" Tearing your gaze from the couple, you instead landed upon Satoru once more, a look of genuine empathy etched over his features. It was an expression you hadn't seen until recently, catching glimpses of the countenance through the corner of your eye - always aimed toward you. Now, you understood why. 

"It's wrong." The phrase, uttered quietly, had been enough explanation. Although they were best friends, Satoru always seemed to do the morally correct thing, abiding by his own compass. Suguru's thoughts had mattered, though he hadn't let them alter his own.  "Do you want me to take you home?" Satoru questioned, and after some consideration, you agreed. The pair of you walked to the student accommodation nearby, the male stopping outside your door and waving good-bye, with the exchange of his number if you were to need anything. 

it's over.  A short, sweet text, one that would end ties between you and the brunette who'd broken you after a short year together. There hadn't needed to be further discourse, because he'd understood from the short message displayed over chat where he'd gone wrong. 

When back in lectures, you'd avoided the pair. Not that you'd allow your head to hang low, instead sticking with friends and wearing a smile - you were confident no one would read further into the hurt you'd felt. Though, one friend, who'd frequented outings between yourself and your ex, present at the time of heartbreak, hadn't missed the way your smile would straighten out once Suguru had passed you around campus, lips turning downward and posture slackening. He'd listen to his friend speak of other women, yet watched as his eyes would wander to you, seeking your frame within every room they'd enter, or hall they'd pass through. Suguru was too proud to admit his faults, and that perhaps, he'd regretted his decision to cheat. 

"I'm just saying," Satoru stirred the pot, two glasses of white wine sitting idly by the stove. "Red is for winter, white is for summer." You leaned against the counter, gaze fixed to his pale fingers wrapped around the wooden spoon, bolognese bubbling beneath. Through the skin, veins traversed and branched upward, arm flexing with each wrist movement.  "I didn't know there was a time limit on when I could drink wine." You commented, finally putting one of the glasses to your lips and sipping the liquid. Satoru turned the heat down, moving to the spaghetti pot. He picked it up, moving toward the sink and draining the contents, before dishing out the pasta on two plates. 

"I still can't believe this is your home." Looking past the male to the small, yet sleek kitchen he worked within, admiring the room while he picked the plates up, placing them on the breakfast bar. You smiled, taking a seat opposite him, the glass you'd held now being placed onto the granite.  "My parents paid for it, didn't want me living in dorms." He commented, sipping his drink before his eyes wondered to meet your own. "Sometimes, I wish they'd just let me live like everyone else, though." 

You nodded, fork pushing into the plate of food and twirling the spaghetti around the metal.  "Dorms suck, plus you only have two months left." Trying to eat the long, sauce coated noodles in a way that doesn't create mess being difficult. Though, Satoru's actions are much like your own, tomato coating his chin as he sucked the pasta through his lips.  "Then I'll be a business associate with no time to myself." He sighed, picking up the glass to take a sip between bites of food. "But, I didn't ask you here to talk about that." Wiping his face with the back of his hand, he sat himself straighter, the playful smirk you knew so well returning to his face. "I know how to make Suguru jealous." 

"Oh, Satoru-" You began, frown forming over your cheeks as you placed the cutlery to rest on the plate. "I don't care about that. I'm fine." A half-lie. You had cared a little, even if not to regain the relationship, just to make him suffer for the actions he took. "Sure." He laughed. "Lucky for you, I am willing to sacrifice my free time and date you!" Satoru exclaimed, arms waving upward and grin wide enough to show the white teeth between his lips. You shifted in your seat, brow furrowing.  "Satoru, I'm not fake-dating you." Crossing one arm over the other, you leaned back. But Satoru stood, walking to stand beside you. 

As you were still seated, his height stood much taller than usual, head tilting downward as he leaned toward you, supported by an arm placed on the table.  "How could I persuade you?" Voice low, he brought his lips to your ear, grazing over the skin. Conflicted, you moved away from the warmth, sight trailing from the vascular hand on the granite to the now uncovered blue eyes.  "He's your friend, don't you care?" The question fell on deaf ears as Satoru furthered his proposition, a kiss planted at your jaw, another at your cheek, before his lips were inches from your own.  "Nah." 

A delicate kiss to test the waters, a deeper one once he'd felt you'd reciprocated the action. Satoru tasted like the wine you drank, and smelled sweet like candy. Of course, it had been his addiction, an insatiable sweet-tooth, paired with vanilla perfume. Satoru molded perfectly to your movements, pushing into you, spare hand cupping the base of your head to hold you in place. Even if he'd been Suguru's friend, and perhaps this was his way of using you - it had felt good. Satoru kissed with passion, tongue sliding across your lips before entering your mouth with a hum, flickering against your own. His fingers wrapped around the back of your neck, goosebumps pricking the skin he touched, his own white hair tickling your face when he'd grown closer. Pressed up against one another, not an inch of you had been left unconnected.  

A light tug had you standing, lips finally pulling from one another with heavy breaths, Satoru's fingers now wrapping around your wrist to tug you toward his room. There hadn't been much time to appreciate the decoration in this space as you had with the others, his lips reconnecting with your neck, softly nipping over the skin. One spot in particular, you'd allowed a gasp through half open mouth and Satoru had taken notice, sucking over the skin to leave a bruise. His grip pulled at your shirt, moving the garment upward and tongue to the exposed skin, unclasping bra before pulling you toward his bed.

Both undressed, Satoru placed himself between your legs, lined up at the dripping hole before edging himself inside. Much like his frame, Satoru's cock was long, pale and vascular, curving toward his body. When he teased himself inside of you, your back had arched, the curve pressing at your walls and massaging into spots you hadn't felt touched before.  "Fuck, 'Toru-" Cut off by a rampant thrust, balls slapping harshly against the curve of your ass, he bottomed out until his tip kissed your cervix before slowly pulling himself through you, to push back in at a gentler pace.  "Bet he didn't feel this good." Through half lidded eyes, you watched his smile, hips rocking into yours. "Tell me how good I make you feel." His voice had been much rougher than when he'd spoken with you in the kitchen, fueled by lust and the feeling of your pussy hugging over him, sheathing himself within your walls while watching you squirm beneath him. 

This was something Satoru had wanted since he'd first laid eyes on you, excitement bubbling within him as he'd stepped forward to speak to you - only to be interrupted by his friend. Since that moment, you'd allowed yourself to be captivated by Suguru, and all Satoru could do was watch. When he'd tease you, you'd bite back, a spark that Suguru had stolen with each passing month, even if you hadn't let on. 

"I heard you last night." Satoru spoke, cigarette between lips. You looked to him with furrowed brows, frowning.  "That's disgusting." He hadn't been spared a look of disappointment from you, an uncomfortable hand scratching at the sleeve of your shirt as you turned to return inside, but his firm grasp over your wrist had halted you.  "I heard you crying." Voice lower, cigarette smoke drifting into the air, Satoru leaned downward to meet you at eye-level. "Just admit you're not okay."  Perhaps his words had been meant as comfort, but you'd ripped yourself from his grasp and continued on your path nonetheless. A moment you felt reminded of when he'd led you to his bedroom, when his touch roamed your sides and squeezed over your hips. 

And, that conversation had been the force he'd needed to bring him to the decision. He'd paid a Gojo intern to speak with Suguru, 'accidentally' sending him nude photos of herself over text. At first, the poor brunette had resisted, yet when fed every detail, conversations orchestrated by none other than Satoru, Suguru soon fell for the charm. To have you in his bed tonight, and around his arm tomorrow, Satoru had paid thousands, not to mention the hours of work put into manipulating Suguru. But, within this moment, he had been thankful to his past self, balls deep in the woman he'd pined over for months.  

"Y-you make me feel good, 'Toru." Whines from your lips, his fingernails in the fat of your skin, grasping you while fucking himself deeper. Your pussy had sucked him in, the mewls from your lips as your back arched against his mattress causing his dick to twitch. He'd messed around with plenty of women before you, but no one looked quite as perfect as you.  "Tell me," He grunted, teeth grazing over his lip as he'd felt you clench. "I'm the best you've had." Satoru enjoyed appraisal, especially from you. 

"You're the best!" Shouted from your lips while he'd bullied into you, head tilted backward. "You're the best I've ever had, 'Toru, fuck-" His thumb met with your clit, rubbing over you in circles as you stuttered under him. "So much better than Suguru, hng-" The comment had him speeding up, growing closer to release. "Your cock's so much better, baby." 

He grunted, animalistic grumbles through gritted teeth as he filled you with white ropes, shooting a load deep within the cunt he'd claimed. A moment he'd waited a year for, and hadn't let him down. He knew that he wouldn't let you go now, no matter what. Satoru understood the need to be beside you from this moment forward, an emotional pull known as love.

a/n: not proof read sorryyy!

#satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #satoru smut #satoru gojo smut #gojo smut #gojo x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #satoru imagine #satoru one shot #satoru gojo imagine #satoru gojo oneshot #satoru gojo fic #satoru fic #satoru drabble #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen fic #jujutsu kaisen oneshot #jjk self insert #jujutsu kaisen self insert #gojo self insert

[kamitv]

▷ Impatience

Sypnosis . What happens when you come home late to them when they’re needy. / Pairings . (Separate) Gojo x f!reader, Geto x f!reader, Toji x f!reader, Choso x f!reader, Nanami x f!reader / Content . afab!reader, non-curse au, dirty talk, unprotected sex, established relationships, oral sex f!receiving, dry humping, spitting, etc. / wc . 7.8k

[ MDNI ]

★ Gojo Satoru

“Fuuuuck, I missed you so much today,” He’d groan directly into your mouth, aching cock slipping in between your dripping folds so perfectly, “Missed’ this pussy, fuck.” Gojo whispers against your lips.

You’d let off a whine and your brows would pinch together at your boyfriend’s words, “W-Was only gone f-for an-, ahh, a-an hour longer, ‘Toru,” Your cunt narrowed around his long cock as he continued pushing into you.

To come home to a needy Gojo always ended the same— you laid out on the nearest surface beneath him as he worked his dick inside you and forced you to tell him about your extended day.

“Mhmm, I know,” He’d frown, sharp cerulean eyes boring down into your own so carefully, “Felt like forever though,” Gojo explains, nudging himself in inch by inch and watching how your eyes flicker and your lips part to release a sigh.

“You’re s-so,” Gojo rolls his hips down into you and you moan at the way his cock presses into the depths of your pussy— filling you up so perfectly, “Dramatic,” You finish, words coming out as a breathy moan.

Gojo bit his lower lip to conceal a smile. Oh how he loved watching your face contort into pleasure, he could watch the stress fading out of your eyes and being replaced with lust forever.

“M’not dramatic,” He huffs. The two of you were on your shared living room couch as he couldn’t even make it to the bedroom, needing to be inside you as quickly as possible.

Gojo’s got one hand intertwined with yours, pressing your fingers down into the soft couch cushion as he starts working up that pace of his.

“I missed my girlfriend,” Gojo groans, hips drawing back ever so slowly before he listens closely to the loud squelch of your cunt as his cock pushes back in. Biting his lip yet again, he smirks a bit, “Seems’ like she missed me too.”

Your neck arches a bit and you moan, the sound like music to his ears. “Toru, hahh-, you’re so big,” You mumble out due to the sheer stretch of his cock.

He can’t help but crack a full smile, his mind spinning a bit as your plush walls pulse around his veiny shaft. “Yeahh, but you take me so well every time, pretty girl,” Gojo praises, “Needy lil’ pussy’s always huggin’ my cock juuust right.”

Those lewd words of his make your face twist up but you can’t help but moan yet again as he slams down into you all at once.

“Hah, now tell me what held you up at work again?” Gojo requested amid his thrusts, despite watching you lose your breath.

You whine, “M-My coworker, mmgh-, h-he-“

Gojo’s cock twitched inside you, shifting slightly and purposefully angling into your cervix, “He?”

“M-Mmh-, y-yes Satoru, he!” You cry out, your hand squirming beneath his as Gojo’s larger fingers squeeze yours, “H-He… aagnh, fuck-, he messed up on some-, nngh, paperwork,” You just barely manage out.

The man above you tilts his head, eyes narrowing, and thrusts growing heavier. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, just peers down at you with this look in his eyes.

You’d swear those blue irises of his were glowing with how intently he looked at you. Not that you were allowed much time to dissect that though as Gojo began fucking his cock down into you a bit harsher.

The sloppy sounds of his thrusts echoed throughout the room, all of which were followed by your moans and pleas for him to slow down.

Gojo swiftly moves his free hand in between your body and his, finding your clit without batting an eye and quickly pinching it, “So another man kept you from me?” He eventually breathes out.

He sounded upset, which kinda explains why he’s growing so rough with you— angry cockhead pounding into your cunt so viciously, as if to remind you of who you belong to.

“Toruu,” You whimper, “P-Please-, h-he’s, aah! H-He’s just a c-coworker,” You try your best to explain it to your lover but all your whines go through one ear and out the other.

Gojo rolls his eyes at you, “Yeah, a coworker who took up my girl’s time,” He argues, “Y’know what, call in sick tomorrow.”

“W-What?” You exhale heavily. With eyes as wide as ever, you couldn’t believe your boyfriend right now.

“W-What?” Gojo mocks you before you feel his thick cock shove impossibly deeper inside you, “You fuckin’ heard me. I said call in sick,” He voices out lowly. It was more of a command rather than a request at this point.

An airy little noise of disapproval leaves your throat, “Hhgn… I c-can’t just-“ His thumb swirls over your clit as his dick continues to split you open, your cunt wetting up his cock more and more with each thrust. Then his pelvis clashes down into yours a bit harder and your eyes roll back, “Ohmygod-“

“You can,” Gojo protests, pulling his hips back until he nearly slips out of you. Then he’s drilling right back in such an animalistic way.

“Toru,” You moan sweetly, his pupils dilating even more at the sound.

Even so, he has no plans on changing his mind, “Nah, it seems you forgot how I feel about other guys gettin’ in the way of us,” Gojo grunts. The sound of his heavy balls smacking against your ass as he beat his lengthy cock deep into your pussy was so overwhelming.

Your legs began to quicker a little and your back was lifting off the couch, “But h-he’s not-“

“Shut up,” Gojo cuts off. And you do, shutting your mouth obediently and whining instead, “Good girlll,” Gojo praises in that low voice of his. Then he pants and you swear you feel him in your stomach at this point, “Now hurry up ‘nd cum f’me, we gotta make up for lost time.”

★ Geto Suguru

Who allows you to get into your shared home perfectly fine at first, helping you take off your shoes, speaking in such a soft tone to you as he requests the events of your longer day.

You’d answer him honestly and explain how there was an error you had to stay and fix— to which Geto would soothe you with his understanding nature and gentle words.

Yet, the very second you sigh a little too heavily for his liking, he’s dragging you off to the bedroom and offering himself as a stress reliever.

“Suguruuu,” You mewl out, thighs spread over his handsome face with his big hands latched to your legs, fingers pressing into your skin as he aided you.

Those pretty purple-hued eyes of his would gaze right up into yours as you faced him, his tongue delving into your cunt and lapping up your sweetness into his mouth. His deep groans were like heaven against your cunt.

"Use me, princess," Geto groaned just before flattening his tongue against your dripping pussy and lapping it upward so very tenderly that it had you twitching and squirming above him.

You pant heavily, hips grinding over the wet pink muscle below for more friction in such a needy manner. Geto's thick fingers slid up along your body, caressing your tensed skin beneath his touch before he grabbed ahold of your hips and forced you to ride his face faster.

Although you couldn't see it, constantly was your boyfriend lifting his hips into the air as he feasted on your cunt like a man staved, his cock pressing up into the fabric of his sweats and giving himself the slightest bit of friction needed.

A sticky bit of precum was wetting up his boxers where his tip was, his fat cock so very desperate for you. But, he'd force himself to wait, your pleasure was more important at the moment.

Which is why his jaw is dropping a bit and his lips are cupping your pussy as he slurps your juices into his mouth, some slipping out from the corner of his lips and dribbling down his face. Not that he cared of course, especially not when you were above him whining and moaning so beautifully.

"Fuck Sugu-, that f-feels so good-, hhggn... ah!" You whine desperately above him. He's been at it for a minute now but his tongue is so damn skillful and long that you've got no idea how much time has truly passed.

Geto retracts his head only a little bit before spitting a fat glob of saliva up onto your cunt, "What a messy girl you are," He comments, his breath tickling the insides of your thighs, "Drippin' all into my mouth even when I'm not even moving."

Then he's leaning up again, his lips pressing into your sensitive clit and making you jump at the contact. A jolt of pleasure shoots throughout your body as he plants a bunch of messy kisses to your clit before suckling it into his mouth.

The tip of his tongue dashes around the sensitive bud and you reach a hand down, fingers curling into his hair as you roll your hips forward against his face for more.

"Mmmgh," Geto hums against you, "Yeahh, ride my fuckin' face, baby," He encourages, his words making you impossibly wetter as you do just that.

His tongue sinks back down and slithers into your cunt, searing against your plush walls as he moans into you. Your legs begin to close around his head and his fingers dig into your skin, "F-Fuck, m'gonna cum Sugu."

He just nods below you, lidded eyes revealing his zero intent on slowing down or stopping anytime soon. Your taste was so addicting to him, he could eat you out for hours and hours and never get tired.

Geto would have his mouth latched to your pussy until his jaw locked, and even then he'd still keep going. You could squirt on his face, beg him to give you a break, or even try pulling away from him but he'd always drag you back to him, tell you to take it, and request that you wet up his face again and again until he's satisfied.

Even as you cum in his mouth, his dick is throbbing in his sweats, twitching all over the place as it aches to be inside you. When you finally come undone and begin to pant softly above him, that's when he slows down.

"You can give me one more, yeah?" Geto hums with a sly smirk on his face, having yet to move an inch away from your pussy.

You shake your head, "M'tired Sugu..."

He frowns, "C'mon, you can't be tired after one orgasm. I thought we worked on that stamina of yours?" Geto whispers so softly as he turns slightly to kiss the inside of your thighs.

Pouting, "I had a long day..." You explain.

"Uhuh, and I'm trying to relieve you s'more baby," He tells you with an innocent look on his face, "C'mon, gimme a few more 'nd then I'll leave you alone."

"Suguru... you never leave me alone afterward," You huff out as you recall all the past times this exact scenario has played out.

Geto snickers, "That's because I've got a needy ass girl who likes beggin' for my cock afterward."

"I-," Your frown deepens, "I do not..."

"Yeahh ya' do..." He argues, "But it's alright, I like it when you're all needy 'nd start beggin' f'me."

With a slight groan, you shift above him a little, "...Shut up."

He tips his head back against the bed below and smiles, "Shut me up, c'mon. Put that pretty pussy on my mouth again."

Heat rushes to your face as he says that and almost instinctively, you just listen to him and sit right back down on his welcoming mouth.

★ Toji Fushiguro

Oh he hates when you come home late, as if he doesn’t do so himself all the damn time.

But the problem is that he’d be texting you begging-, no, never begging but, telling-, or ordering you to come home. Plethoras of I need you’s & look at what you’re doin’ to me’s followed by roughly five pictures of his thick and aggravatingly hard cock would ping to your phone while you’re in the middle of a meeting you didn’t have to attend.

And yes, you’ve explained this to your impatient partner Toji but does he care? Of course not.

So that’s why when you finally come home, you could barely into the damn house before he’s got that large veiny hand of his wrapped around your throat, tugging you into your household and slamming your body back against the front door to close it.

“Toji-“ You barely even get a chance to speak before he’s shoving his hot tongue into your mouth and shutting you up.

Your fiancé doesn’t care to hear your excuses, you’ve already texted them to him so, he’s grunting into your mouth and his free hand is moving to lock the door you’re up against.

His lips are hot and heavy against you, cologne dizzying your senses, bigger and much bulkier body pressing against you, and his hand limiting your oxygen.

“Told’ you I fuckin’ needed you,” Toji groans into your mouth as he trails a hand down and around your frame, quickly moving to grab a possessive hold of your ass, “Y’know how long I’ve been waitin’?”

You whine as his fingers curl into your ass cheek, squeezing so harshly before moving his lips to your jawline. “T-Toji, please, that meeting was-“

“Don’t care,” He hums so casually as he dips further down and to the side of your neck, sucking eagerly on your skin, “Forty-five fuckin’ minutes I’ve been waitin’ for you.”

You roll your eyes, “You’re such a big-, baby,” You stammer out as his hand shifts to your hip and he tugs you so that his one larger leg can press in between yours.

Toji scoffs against you and his hand leaves your throat, “I’m a big baby? Says the one who starts cryin’ from jus’ the tip.”

You grit your teeth and your hands go to his broad shoulders, “I do not…” You gasp as his thigh presses up against your clit, “You’re exaggeratin’.”

“Oh am I?” Toji chuckles, pulling his head up so he can look at your face, “Look at’cha now, can’t even handle a couple of kisses without lookin’ all fucked out.”

You frown at the man, “You couldn’t even let me get past the damn door before your hands were all over m-“

He shuts you up by lifting a hand to shove two thick fingers into your mouth, “God, you talk too much.”

A pout pulls at your lower lip as his fingers sink into your throat and press down on the back of your tongue. Your eyes gloss over a little and you gag.

His scared lip pulls up into a smirk, “Look at that fuckin’ pout… Aww, you mad?” Toji taunts.

God, you cannot stand him. Well, you can, that’s why you’ve got an engagement ring on your finger now— but still, he never fails to piss you off. And you’re pretty sure he likes pissing you off. He definitely gets a kick out of seeing you upset.

You move to graze his fingers with your teeth and he raises a brow.

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare.” Toji warns.

You groan against him before letting out a tired sigh and slithering your tongue in between the two fingers lodged in your mouth. He flashes a smile at you.

Then he nods approvingly, “Yeahhh, tha’s it.”

Oh his cock was in pain due to how hard he was. And it doesn’t get any better when you pull your head back a little before pushing forward, sucking on his fingers like the obedient little fiancée he knows you to be.

Toji licks his lips in almost slow motion, “So fuckin’ sexy, doll. Y’know that right?”

You smile against his fingers briefly before you nod, “Mhmm…”

He sighs heavily as he watches you suck on him, cock twitching in his sweatpants every time you throat his fingers and bat those pretty eyes of yours at him.

Then, he practically loses his mind when you pull off with a loud pop before taking his wrist into your hands, spitting on the tip of his fingers, and then taking them right back into your mouth.

Toji groans at the sight, “Nasty lil’ slut,” He huffs out, “Suckin’ on my fingers like it’s my cock… you’re enjoyin’ yourself, huh?”

You smile yet again and nod, “Mmh…”

“Fuck, keep lookin’ at me like that ‘nd I’m gonna cum without even seein’ your pussy.” He warns.

That makes you far more eager than he expects it to and you tilt your head to the side and really start sucking on his fingers like they’re his dick.

Then, you pull off for a moment just to speak, “Put three in my mouth,” You request, sticking your tongue out and watching how his lips part and he nearly moans at the request alone.

Toji tips his head back ever so slightly, eyes getting lower as he shifts to hold three fingers to your lips, “You’re so fuckin’ nasty,” He whispers before pushing his digits in and feeling you hum against him, “Gonna make me cum from this, pretty girl…”

You twist your head a bit as you suck on him, running your tongue all in between his fingers, drool escaping out the corner of your lips, and one of your hands suddenly dropping from his wrists. Toji’s eyes flicker when your free hand grabs ahold of his cock through his clothes.

“S-Shit,” He hisses, “God, I love you,” Toji hums as your hand strokes his aching cock through his clothing.

You were all too perfect for him, sucking on his fingers, rubbing your palm against the outline of his clothes— he swears he’s never found himself about to cum from something so simple before.

Your mouth furthers on his fingers and your hand moves to slip into his sweats, making his body jerk forward when you grab his thick cockhead and run your fingers over it so teasingly.

“Fuuuck,” He groans with his jaw going slack, “The hell would I do without you-, mgh,” He grunts deeply as you stroke his tip carefully.

Toji’s hips buck into your touch and he’s trying so hard not to moan— he was really aching for you more than he’d let on.

A messy slick of precum gets all over your hand but it makes it easier for you to start jerking him off, your mouth still latched to his fingers for a moment before you pull off.

Then you kiss him and smile, “C’mon big guy, go ahead ‘nd cum f’me so you can fuck me properly.”

Oh he practically loses his sanity at that, body folding over and toward you as he rests his forehead on your shoulder and finally lets out that sexy moan he’s been keeping in.

You snicker as you jerk him off and you can feel his cock throbbing in your hand, the messy sounds of your fingers sliding along his thick shaft filling the air.

Toji tilts his head and his lips press against your skin but he doesn’t kiss you, just opens his mouth and pants, “M’so close, doll. Don’t stop, d-don’t you fuckin’ stop,” He groans against your neck, breath hot and body tense because of you.

You smile, “You’re so needy Toji…”

His teeth graze your neck for a moment as he nearly sinks them into your skin, “Don’t call me fucking needy.”

“But you are,” You voice out so sensually that it makes his head spin

Toji grunts and you swear you hear a different noise almost escape the back of his throat as your hand squeezes his cock. “M’gonna fuck the shit outta’ you after this,” He huffs, “Gonna make sure you can’t even-, aagh…. walk tomorrow.” He stammers out.

You move to whisper in his ear, “Mhm, I’m sure you will.”

“I’ll show you fuckin’ needy,” Toji utters through gritted teeth, your hand just jerking and jerking— his legs were starting to stiffen because of how good it felt.

“Stop talkin’ ‘nd cum f’me so you can fill me up,” You whisper teasingly.

Toji’s eyes roll back, “I’ll put a baby in you if you keep talkin’ like that.”

“Maybe I want you to,” You giggle.

Then your hand focuses on his leaking tip and he just couldn’t take it anymore, groaning at both your skillful hand and your teasing words before hot and thick ropes of cum are spurting out.

His hands ball into tight fists as he does so and he pants heavily beside you. And his groans were so loud, he was really worked up.

In one quick motion, he lifts his head from your shoulder and presses his lips into yours, “Fuckin’ love you,” Toji grunts into you.

And you’re smiling against him, “Mhm, love’ you too, ya’ big baby.”

Toji scoffs before pulling away from your lips, “Alright, call me a big baby one more time ‘nd see what happens.”

You stare at the man, noticing the slight smirk he has, “…But Toji… you are a big baby— never satisfied ‘til you get what you want.”

“Seems like you’ve got the roles here reversed, doll,” He huffs before pecking your lips one more time, “S’fine tho’, I’ll fix that soon enough.”

★ Choso Kamo

Coming home late to your needy boyfriend Choso is never a bad thing. If anything, you think you stay longer at work on purpose to tease the man.

When you get home wee hours into the night, all the lights in the apartment would be off, there'd be practically no sound throughout the place and you'd wonder if Choso was sleeping.

Of no surprise to you, he isn't when you make your way to the living room and see his legs spread as wide as ever as he watches some show playing on the large TV on the wall across the room from him. You'd carefully make your way around the couch and notice he's got his eyes shut and his head is rested slightly back on the couch.

How cute, he'd fallen asleep waiting for you. So what do you do as his loving girlfriend? Well, you move to straddle him and take a very comfortable seat in his lap, his entire body jolting awake at your presence.

The smell of your perfume would seep into his nose, the feeling of your thighs spread over his would make his body tense, and the way you'd wrap your arms around his neck as he woke up would have him letting out a sigh of relief.

"Hi Cho," You'd greet so lovingly, voice caressing his ear just before you plant a cute lil' kiss near it.

Choso's hands move on instinct, two large pairs of fingers grabbing onto each side of your waist. Then, before he even gets a second to say anything, you're tipping your head down to kiss him on the side of his neck like you always do.

He groans immediately and you feel his cock jump at the sudden kiss. Then he's gripping onto your waist tighter, "Missed' you baby..." Choso tells you in that deep voice of his, the sound making you shift against him.

Your kisses trail up and you find yourself right below his jaw, "Missed you too, Cho."

He inhales sharply as you then lick him before sucking on his skin a little, "Yeah?" Choso teases, sleepily dragging his hands down a bit and grabbing ahold of your hips before squeezing, "You stayed at work longer than normal..."

"I know, I know, m'sorry," You coo as you try to make up for it with the constant kisses to his neck.

And he's so sensitive too, squirming all over the damn place as you do so. You could feel his dick growing beneath you and the feeling encouraged you to get more comfortable in his lap.

Then you lift your face from his neck and meet those low brown eyes of his, "Heard me? I said I'm sorry Cho."

He stares at you for a long moment before cocking his head to the side, "Are you?" Choso asks.

You blink, "Of course I am!"

"Prove it t'me, baby," Choso requests, voice as deep as ever.

You could feel yourself twitching every time he spoke, the look in his eyes and faint touch on your body driving you crazy. "How do you want me to prove it to you Cho, hm?" You ask softly.

Just as his voice made you ache, your voice made the tip of his cock leak. He's lifting his hips up into yours without a second thought and he doesn't miss the way you gasp softly at his clothed cock pressing up into your cunt.

"Ride me," Choso says calmly, "If you're sorry, make it up t'me by makin' me cum."

You smile at the man, "That's it? Choso you're acting like I haven't made you cum without even touching you before..."

He scoffs slightly and leans back into the couch so lazily— a sleepy, but sexy smile spreading across his face as he does so. “You tied me up, that was different, baby.”

Tilting your head, you smile back at him, “Was it?”

“Mhm, ‘nd when I say ride me,” Choso’s hands slither down along your legs before finding a place on your thighs, “I mean jus’ like this.”

You just stare with wide confused eyes, “…What do you mean just like this?”

“Dry hump me,” He explains with a slick smirk on his face.

A pout pulls at your lower lips, “Like a damn teenager Cho? Why can’t we just-“

“Knew you weren’t sorry for stayin’ out later,” Choso huffs out as he turns his head to the side.

Again, you stare at him— trying to figure out if he’s being for real right now or if he’s just teasing. But, based on the aching cock you’re sitting on top of and the way Choso’s fingers are holding your thighs, you get the idea that he’s dead serious.

So, with a sigh, “Fine,” You tell him, earning a quick turn of his head to you.

Choso comforts himself a bit more, slouching back into the couch further and rolling his hips upward to get comfortable. Though, his little movement only causes his dick to press up into your cunt.

The layers in between you and him weren’t really helping how stupidly aroused you both were. With a soft sigh escaping from your lips, you start off slow— gently rocking your hips forward as if to test the waters a bit.

Your boyfriend, Choso, quickly lets out a huff. Nothing could beat that teasing sensation of your clothed cunt rubbing against his aching boner. His eyes lowered and despite a cute lil’ shade of red taking over his features, his fingers grip onto your thighs tightly.

“Yeahh, like that, baby,” He whispers.

You hum sweetly and lean forward, pressing your chest against his as you meet his low gaze, “This’ all you want?”

Choso nods carefully, licking his lips in almost slow motion as you just rock your hips back and forth in such a mesmerizing manner. You had such a good rhythm with your hips, perfectly rolling your cunt in small little circles over his cock and gasping every once in a while.

He soon let out a groan and tips his head back, “Just… keep-, mmgh, keep doin’ that.”

You smile at your all-too-sensitive boyfriend before leaning forward and connecting your lips to his neck, “Choso… Baby,” You whine,” Are you really gonna cum from this?”

He barely even nods at your words, hands slithering further up your body to grab ahold of your waist once more, “F-Feels like you’re actually— fuckin’ me,” His voice was husk already, deep but laced with the faintest whine just as you liked it.

“Yeah?” You utter tauntingly. Then you began bouncing slightly, rutting against his cock with more vigor as he humped up into you reflectively.

“Hahh…. Princess,” He whines, “S-Shit, I… I wanna fuck you.”

You lick a long and almost languid stripe up along his neck, stopping at his jaw and giggling, “So fuck me, Cho.”

All that’s let out from him is a groan before he’s flipping the two of you over, his much larger frame in between your legs as he stares down at you so very hungrily.

Then Choso’s drawing his hips back only a little before he presses down into your clothed pussy, the outline of his dripping cock nudging right in between your folds and making your eyes flutter for a moment.

Choso shakes his head at you, “Why’d you come home s’late?” He mumbles.

You let out the faintest moan as he works up a needy pace of humping his dick against you. “C-Choso-“

“Answer my question,” He breathes out as he leans his face down to your aroused expression, “Hm? Why’d you come home late? Y’know I missed you, right?”

You nod and he rolls his hips down into yours, cock mashing into your cunt and even grazing your clit, “H-Hahhh, I-I know Cho… I just-, mmh! Remember t-that promotion I told you about?”

He stares for a second before shrugging, “Yeah…”

“I needed to show… h-how serious I am about it,” You moan as you explain and your jaw goes a bit slack as he weighs his body down into yours a little and Choso grows a little rougher.

“Is a promotion more important than me?” He huffs out, whispering gently to you.

Your head shakes, “No, of course n-not-“

“I texted you, baby,” Choso cuts off, his face growing closer, “Told you I needed you.”

“Cho-“

“Needed your cunt on me,” He huffs out mindlessly, “Needed this, aagh…” His words are emphasized with a rougher thrust against you.

Your body jerks a bit and you have such a lewd expression on your face— almost as if you were getting fucked for real, “Choso,” You moan as he swipes a hand down and rubs over your clit through your clothes.

“I missed her,” He hums, “Missed’ how she talks to me…” All as he rolls that thumb of his over your clit and continues rutting his cock down against you, “You gonna cum f’me, baby?”

“M-Mhmm,” You whine as your hips lift into his movements.

Choso smiles a little, “C’mon then, give it t’me so I can fuck you for real.”

“Choso…” You murmur as his words go straight to your core, your body hot and aching for sweet release.

He nods and his eyes never once leave yours, “Uhuh, keep sayin’ my name.”

Your back begins to arch off of the couch and he grows faster with the way he humps his cock down into you, “Cho,” You whimper.

“Mhm, I’m right here baby,” He coos lovingly, “Act like I’m n’side you, cum just like you would on my cock, princess.”

And just like that, you were cumming, legs closing around your boyfriend as he watches your face and body twist up.

Then he starts kissing your neck and sucking on your skin possessively, “That’s my fuckin’ girl,” He whispers into you.

Then, once your body stills, he leans up and quickly pulls his shirt off, staring down at your wide glossy eyes. A heavy sigh leaves his lips as he drags his hands down and tugs on his drawstring.

“Ready t’see how much my cock missed you?” Choso teases as he tauntingly pulls on the waistband of his sweats.

You just nod, almost dumbly as you peer up at him, “Mhm.”

Then he’s smiling again, “Alright but, don’t start cryin’ when you can’t take it anymore, ‘kay?”

★ Nanami Kento

Okay, he’s literally the reason you come home late.

Because of course, working at the same company as your husband isn’t always the best idea. And yes, everyone knows Nanami hates working overtime.

But, when his pretty wife comes into his office after sending teasing messages for the past hour or so about getting home and taking a soothing bath together— Nanami finds himself straining through his clothes.

You’d walk in with that tight pencil skirt and lowly unbuttoned blouse, a way of dressing you know drives him insane.

Then there’s your voice caressing his ear as you walk around his desk and wrap your arms around his neck, whispering an oh-so-sweet, “Need any help in here, sir?” And you know what that honorific does to him when coming out of your mouth.

It all makes him shift in his seat, moving to lean over and rest his chin on his knuckles as he places his elbow on the armrest of his chair, “Yes but not with anything on this damn screen,” Nanami huffs.

You smile, knowing exactly what he means by that but deciding to play dumb anyway. Then you turn and press your lips into his cheek, “Awh,” You coo, glancing over to the neatly assorted paperwork on his desk, “Then, could it be that pile of work you need help with? It is almost time to go.”

Nanami sighs and lifts his head from his hand, turning to look at you whose eyes are busy elsewhere, “No, not that either,” He hums in that honeyed voice of his.

You turn to face him, your eyelids lowering as you find yourself a bit closer than anticipated, “Then what is it, Ken?” Your question comes off as innocent and you tilt your head.

His eyes narrow at you and he scans your expression momentarily. After which, his gaze meets yours, “You are so beautiful,” Your husband suddenly compliments.

And it never once fails to make your heart swell and a smile brightens up your face, “Thank you, hun,” You say before moving to peck his lips, “But where is this sudden sentiment coming from, hm?”

Nanami leans toward your face a little just as you pull your lips off of his and you find it so very endearing how clear it is what he wants from you. “I can’t compliment my wife?” He asks.

“You can.” Giggling, your hands retract from him as you stand up straight— watching how his expression sinks a little due to the loss of your touch, “But I’m just curious is all…”

Your head turns to that stack of paperwork again and you reach for the paper at the top of the pile, skimming over it as you do so.

Nanami watches, falling deeper in love with your every move and trying his best not to think with his cock and act on impulse— though he’d done it before, lord knows he wanted to bend you over his desk and-

“Ken, I thought we discussed this contract here,” You utter, breaking him from his lewd thoughts.

Nanami shakes his head and clears his throat. Then, he reaches a hand over and grabs a light hold of your free hand, trying to gain your attention, “We probably did but,” You turn and look at him as he lifts your hand to his face and lands a kiss across your knuckles, “Can we please discuss that later?”

You gaze at your husband for a long moment, finally noticing the bulge in his pants. “Oh. Is that what you need my help with?” You emphasize as you place the paper in your hand down and point to his crotch.

Nanami moves to intertwine his fingers with yours, “I know it’s unprofessional but, yes.”

You turn your body to face him and he tries to pull you closer but you don’t move. “Ken… if I handle that now we’ll be here longer than we’d like.”

He nods, “I’m aware.”

Frowning in disappointment at your impatient husband, you let off a sigh and push forward, stepping in between his legs. “I wasn’t aware I married such a needy man.” You tease as you draw your hand away from his.

Nanami quickly sits back in his seat, the chair creaking a bit as he does so. He’s got this almost pained look on his face, as if another second without you would kill him.

“Me? Needy?” Nanami huffs, clearly not aware of the look on his chiseled face.

You smile and begin to get down on your knees, the sight making his cock jump within his pants. “Yes, you.” You scoff, “Who else?”

Your husband parts his thighs further for you and smirks, “Between you and I, I am not the needy one in this relationship.”

You nod slowly as your fingers trail along his muscular thighs, the teasing movements causing his tip to drip so messily against his clothing. “So what do you call this then?” You utter, nodding your chin toward his erection.

Those delicate hands of your trail up to his belt and you begin to undo it so slowly that it pains him not to rush you. “You caused it,” Nanami argues.

You smirk, “That doesn’t answer my question, husband of mine.”

“Well, wife of mine, I don’t have time to answer questions right now,” He mocks, tipping his head to the side and watching you like a hawk as your hands finally near his cock, “M’Too hard to think straight.” He grunts.

And then finally, your hand is tugging his throbbing cock out, your eyes widening at the sight as if you hadn’t seen it a million times before. Nanami loves the way you admire him though, he just watches in awe at how your gaze travels along his thick and lengthy member, your mouth salivating in such a hungry way.

“C’mon, I don’t have all day…” Nanami rushes, to which you glance past his length and up at his face with a pout. “Oh don’t look at me like that, we’ve already been here five minutes past our working hours.”

You snicker and lean your face close to his cock just to push your lips to his weeping and flushed tip, “And whose fault is that?” You whisper before you kiss him.

He inhales sharp enough for you to hear, “Yours,” Nanami groans out to you.

Your lips move to wrap around the tip of his cock, tongue quickly swiping in between his slit and making the man shudder above you. Then, you pull your tongue away and look up at him again, “Mine, he says…” You hum to yourself before tilting your head.

Then you’re trailing kisses down the side of his dick until you get to the base, gently sucking on the underside of his cock where he’s sensitive and earning a deep groan that makes your cunt throb.

“…As if you’re not the one begging me to suck you off,” You huff out.

Nanami lands a heavy hand down on your head as you shift to drag your tongue upward along his length until you get to his pretty pink tip, swiveling your tongue around it and pulling off slightly to spit onto it.

“Oh don’t act like you didn’t want to do this,” Nanami argues back to you. Your gaze meets his and he stares at the way you open your mouth slowly, but… not to say something back to him.

Instead, your mouth is closing around his cock before he has time to process— yet another groan leaving his lips and echoing throughout his office. Inch by inch by inch, your mouth furthers down his dick with no problem.

Even as his cock enters your throat and your lips reach his base, you don’t gag or even choke. Nanami’s eyelashes fluttered at the tightness of your throat around him, trying not to groan too much despite it being hard not to when your mouth was so warm and wet around him.

“Fuuck,” He curses deeply, fingers curling into your hair, “I trained this throat well it seems…”

You whine against him and his body twitches. Slowly, you start to lift your head before you work up a pleasureful pace of bobbing your head— sucking on his cock all too well.

Nanami’s free hand grips onto the edge of his armrest as you go to work on him and his eyes begin to lift to his ceiling. Looking down at you with your mouth stuffed full of his cock would only lead him to cum too soon.

The wet sounds slipping from out your mouth as you sucked and licked on his dick filled the air, your eyes lowering as pleasing your husband like this only turned you on more than you already were. The two of you had been teasing one another all day.

Even from earlier that morning when Nanami woke you up by kissing at your neck so lovingly, whispering sweet nothings against your skin in that deep and sexy morning voice of his. He’s had you worked up since then so now, you’re sucking him off like you want him to pass out from it.

And he might because goddamn your mouth is like heaven around him. Your head bobs and twists, your throat opening up to take him in deep every time you push down, and a moan vibrates against him as his hand tugs at your hair every now and then.

Then there’s your tongue, slithering up and down and left and right, slicking against each vein in such a way that tells him you remember every single one.

“Oh fuck,” Nanami curses yet again, hips unconsciously bucking up into your mouth for more, “So good… Your mouth feels s’good on me, love.”

You give his cock one long and hard suck until you pull off with a loud pop, sticking your tongue out for a moment as you move a hand to jerk him off. “Yeah? Couldn’t wait til’ we got home, huh?” You tease.

He just shakes his head at you and watches through lidded eyes as you tap the tip of his fat cock on your tongue, smiling a little as you do so.

He pants, “Hahh… not when I have a perfect cocksleeve of a wife t’help me out…” Nanami says lowly.

And your face twists up at that, eyebrows pinching together slightly and pout pulling at your lower lip, “Ken…” You whisper, your hand tightening around his shaft as you give him quick pulls.

“M’sorry,” Nanami apologizes quickly, making you smile. “I-, aagh… I didn’t mean t-that….” He huffs out, clearly out of it as you jerk him off so perfectly, better than he ever could on his own.

You lean forward and purposefully suck on only his top, tongue lulling around it, in between his slit, pushing saliva out of your mouth and making it all the more messy before you pull him back into your mouth.

Then Nanami moans into the air, “Fuuck, n-no, I meant that…” He corrects, “You suck me off like a goddamn-“

You pull off for a second and smile, “Say it…”

“Whore,” Nanami grunts and you moan as you sink your mouth down onto him again, making his abs tense up beneath his shirt.

Your eyes gloss over as you take him all the way in, closing your throat around his cock and practically sucking the soul out of him. Then your hands sneak down and you cup his balls in your hand, feeling how some of the mixed saliva and precum has slipped down.

Nanami nearly kicks something as you do so, his head flying back as he moans out your name. The sound makes your pussy so unbelievably wet, eyes glancing up to get a good look at your husband who was so close to finishing in your mouth.

Then you see him take a shaky hand and tug at that bright yellow tie of his, yanking it loose and messily unbuttoning some of the buttons on his shirt so that he could breathe properly.

Not that that really helps him escape that damn mouth of yours. As you lift your mouth to breathe, both of your hands move to make up for it, your lips and tongue focusing on his tip all over again.

“Goddamn-,” Nanami’s breath hitches and his eyes begin to roll back, “Y-You’re gonna make me-,” He groans again as you slurp his tip into your mouth sloppily, hands twisting and tugging at his cock so damn deliciously that he actually does accidentally kick his desk in front of him.

There’s a thud that follows but neither of you pay any attention to it. You’re too busy making his head spin with that mouth of yours and Nanami’s trying not to-

Whatever the hell he was trying not to do, he does— abrupt and warm ropes of cum shooting into your mouth. Nanami’s body hunches forward as he does so, almost as if he were trying to escape your mouth for a second.

Your hands only move out of the way though, mouth sinking all the way down on his cock so that you don’t miss a single drop of him.

Nanami’s chanting your name lowly over and over as he cums, small little I love you’s and you’re so perfect’s flowing out his mouth as he does so.

Once he’s done and you finally pull your lips off of his cock, you’ve got a mouth full of cum and you purposefully don’t swallow yet. Looking up at your husband with wet eyelashes and batting them at him, you roll your tongue around in your mouth and show him what a mess he’s made in there.

Nanami practically chokes at the sight before averting his eyes, “Don’t do that…” He hums, “J-Just…. Swallow it.”

Your hands go to his knees and you push up a little to lean toward his face, forcing him to look at you. Then, his eyes fall on your mouth and he watches as you close it and gulp loudly, sticking out your tongue afterward for him with a cute ah sound following.

Nanami shakes his head at you and scoffs, “Nasty slut.” He degrades.

You flash him a smile, and lean up for a kiss, “You know you love me that way,” You murmur as your lips near his.

With a sigh and a roll of his eyes, he moves a, still shaky, hand to your jaw and tugs your face to his, “I do. I really do,” Nanami says before kissing you passionately despite his taste on your tongue.

After which, he pulls away and gazes deeply into your eyes. You reciprocate the stare and even smile at him again.

He grins, “Promise I’ll thank you for this properly when we get home.”

You nod, “You better.”

“Mh,” He hums before tilting his head, “Or I could lay you out on this desk and repay you now?”

Blinking, you shrug, “Up to you, Ken.”

He stares for a moment, licking his lips at the thought of being in between your legs. Then, he shakes his head, “Nope, I’ll make you wait ‘til we get home.”

Your eyes go wide, “But-“

Nanami chuckles, “That’s what you get for calling me needy.”

#jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #gojo x reader #choso x reader #toji x reader #nanami x reader #geto x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #nanami kento x reader #choso kamo x reader #smut fic #jjk smut #gojo smut #geto smut #choso smut #toji smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader smut #jjk x you smut #suguru x reader #suguru x reader smut #suguru x you #suguru x you smut #anime smut

[saetoru]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“sure,” he chuckles.

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

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

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

great. lovely. wonderful. just what you needed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“don’t flatter yourself,” you grumble.

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

it’s way too early for this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

his bare chest, in fact.

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

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

this is…new. very, very new.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—————

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

you grin, reaching over when—

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

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

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

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

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

it’s satoru who breaks the silence first.

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

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

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

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

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

“yeah, as if.”

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

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

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

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

yeah. very snobby.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“he can’t be that hot,” he mutters.

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

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

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

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

“i know you’re not talking—”

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

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

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

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

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

“oh yeah? that’s rich coming from—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—————

satoru meets you when you’re six. 

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

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

a magnetizing one, in fact.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

——

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—————

it’s night four. 

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

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

scarily handsome, in fact. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

it’s like he knows—the fucking asshole.

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

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

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

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

“how would you know—”

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

“he was hot—”

“yeah? and i’m not?”

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

“satoru, what are you—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“toru,” you say breathlessly, “more.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

do not comment about a part 2

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

#teepods.writings #fics. #thirstee! #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen smut