been waitin' on you all my night

full time reader, per diem writer 19

[allmyn1ghts]

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚about me˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

hi besties <33!!

My name is Mari (she/her)! I'm 19 and love love love anything video game, music, anime and Marvel/DC related

I've been reading fanfics for as long as I can remember lol but I'm very excited to start this blog :)

masterlist talk to me m.list archive

[simplybakugou]

i JUST saw your post about watching the video of the thirsty tweets and i thought about what if katsuo was older and he found it on the internet!!? how do you think it would go?

⋆ PAIRING: dad!/divorced!/prohero!bakugou x mom!/divorced! /teacher!reader ⋆ WARNINGS/TAGS: kids; marriage; fluff; mention of thirst tweets lol ⋆ WORD COUNT: 542

A/N: knew somebody would ask for katsuo’s reaction lol

NOTE: if you'd like to be tagged in these mini/extra fics, please join the taglist here

Second Time Around Masterlist

PART ONE

You opened your front door after a particularly long day of work. There was a faculty meeting so the kids had to take the bus home.

You smiled seeing Katsuo at the dining table, staring blankly at his laptop. “Hi, baby. Did you heat up leftovers?”

Katsuo didn’t answer and he looked more and more like he was in anguish. You furrowed your brows, taking your coat off and slipping your shoes off. “Tsuo?” You called out.

Katsuo finally snapped out of whatever trance he was in and looked up at you with wide eyes. “Oh. Uh, hi, Mom.”

“What’s wrong?” You asked, approaching him and setting your bag down on one of the other chairs at the table.

“Nothing,” he said quickly, scratching the nape of his neck. “Well… one of my friends just sent me a video from a while ago and I was watching it.”

“What video?” You asked while sitting beside him.

Katsuo didn’t respond and simply turned his laptop screen so you could see. And the sight made you burst out into laughter. Reading the title: Dynamite Reads Thirst Tweets was enough to have you howling. 

A blush crept up Katsuo’s neck and spread across his face. “Why the hell would Dad do this?”

You attempted to give him a response but couldn’t stop your laughter, only frustrating your eighteen-year-old son even more. “Mom!” He exclaimed in annoyance.

“Sorry, sorry,” you said with a sigh, wiping the corners of your eyes. “I never thought you’d see this, oh god.”

You had to look away from the screen to prevent yourself from laughing even further. “Dad’s PR agent at the time thought it’d be a ‘good look’ for his ranking if he did the video.”

Katsuo cringed, glancing at one of the raunchy tweets displayed on the screen. “... People actually say stuff like that about Dad?”

You shrugged. “It’s weird for you ‘cause it’s your father.”

“No, it’s just weird!” Katsuo exclaimed, slamming his laptop shut.

“Believe it or not, when I found that video, you watched it with us when you were a baby,” you said and you had to prevent yourself from laughing at his absolutely horrified expression.

As if he heard you were talking about him, Bakugou came through the front door after another long day of work. He looked up, seeing that you and Katsuo were in the dining room as he took his shoes off and approached you both.

“What’re you two up to?” He asked.

“Great that you ask that,” you said with a grin. “Tsuo just found that video of you reading thirst tweets.”

You watched with amusement as Bakugou’s body went rigid, as if his worst nightmare had come true. He looked over to Katsuo. “Why the fuck are you watchin’ that shit?”

“It wasn’t willingly!” Katsuo nearly shrieked, his blush only getting more intense. “My friend sent it to me!”

You all heard soft footsteps come down from the staircase as Suki entered the dining room, most likely trying to see what all the fuss was about. “What did your friend send you?” She asked innocently. 

Immediately the three of you shut your mouths, and you decided to step in. “... We’ll show you when you’re a little older, sweetie.”

[xamallo]

Wake up Nerjo national

А больше у меня в тгшке!! Добро 🤙🏻Свидимся

[chososprettygirl]

# CONSEQUENCES

FRAT!GOJO X LOSER!CHOSO X READER

SUMMARY # Loner Choso Kamo finally gains the courage to show up to a frat party… unfortunately he gets caught staring up your skirt like some sick perv by none other than your own boyfriend. Now he’s dragged up into Satoru Gojo’s bedroom along with you to ‘punish’ him for his shameless perversion.

WARNINGS # smut, porn with like next to no plot, threesome, gojo tops choso, oral sex (f! receiving), sub!choso, dom!gojo, dom!reader, humiliation, hair pulling, photos taken during sex, reader and gojo are mean lol, choso’s alt dressing cause that’s sexy

WORD COUNT # 3.8k

If there was one thing Choso Kamo was not a fan of, it was frat parties.

The hype around them confused him. Sticky flooring, overly loud crowds, random women yelling ‘emo boy!’ to him and trying to get him to take his shirt off. But worst of all, those stupidly obnoxious frat boys who all had some hive mind superiority complex. Count the sorority girls who follow them around like their dogs in too.

Really the only reason he’s here is to get the few friends (including his brothers) he has off his back about “wasting his last year of his bachelor’s.” And just of course, they all pulled out their plans to meet him here last minute.

He stares at the messages from Yuji, Yuki, Eso and Kechizu, all seperate, on his screen, squinting at the list of previewed ‘sorry’s.

He stands in line grumbling to himself for about 20 minutes before he finally gets in—not before the frat guy at the door looks at his id and says, “Still wearing eyeliner in your license photo? damn, emo boy.” He hates that stupid nickname that apparently every holier-than-thou Greek life dickhead has branded to him.

About 50 drunken people knock into him before he can even scurry to the kitchen with his face scrunched and shoulders tensed up. He even almost gets hit with a misdirected beer pong ball, the apology of “my fault, man!” following behind him.

He’s able to slink past a couple more people to grasp at the tequila bottle and shot glasses sitting on the counter. He doesn’t even like alcohol, but maybe this will drive him not to walk out of here after barely 10 minutes.

Choso’s hand flicks back a shot without care for a lime or salt or whatever bullshit people do when they take tequila. He squints his eyes both at the pungent taste and the group of people that cheer behind him.

His tongue feels heavy in his mouth and his throat feels dry and raspy, still laced with the yucky aftertaste of the shot. He brings down the glass back down to the counter with a soft thud and underlying ‘clink’.

Feedback rings throughout the house, leading Choso to quickly slap his ring-cluttered hands over his ears in surprise. He snaps his head around to find out where all the commotion is coming from, slowly dropping the hands over his ears when he grumbles breathlessly immediately at the sight.

Satoru Gojo. Satoru Gojo, standing atop a table with microphone and speaker set. The same patronizing dickhead he has the displeasure of knowing the name of like nearly everyone on campus. The same guy who wraps his arm around Choso everyday in class like they’re friends (which Choso promptly pulls away from every time) just to mock his eyeliner and messily done buns. The same guy who apparently has no sense of manners and pushes past Choso on campus walkways with his little boy-toy Geto like he’s the owner of the place.

He doesn’t even have the time to be concerned with what that white-haired jerk off is even saying before some oversized tatted guy with pink hair recklessly pushes past him. Choso’s not even sure whether it was purposeful or not based on the sheer force that hit him—and sent him straight to the ground.

Coincidentally, he lands scrambling on his hands and knees…right behind you. Dressed in a tight fitting short black skirt and bunched up tank top he’s pretty sure you won from a wet t shirt contest. Though more importantly, he gets a straight shot view of the fiery red lace panties you’re dressed in and the outline of your cunt to match.

See, if this was a cartoon, he’d have a stream of blood streaming out of his nose and, admittedly, hearts beating out of his eyes.

He’s not even a virgin, but he feels like one where he stops all his scrambling on the floor under you. He stills completely and stares. He stares like a filthy pervert at your—what he considers— perfect body in such a sultry pair of underwear. Are you wearing a bra to match too?

Slick saliva pools at his chapped lips while he open mouthedly ogles your pussy. His tired, normally sleepy eyes lie wide and unblinking at the view. All Choso knows is that he’ll be thinking about this for the rest of his month. No, no— rest of his life.

And at that point in his thoughts, he gets interrupted because Gojo sees him before Choso does.

“Hey! The fuck do you think you’re doing?” Gojo yells, hurrying down off the table and flinging the metallic microphone somewhere else. His bright eyes that still peer through his dark sunglasses beam down angrily at Choso, face struck half in awe and otherwise in disgust and anger. His huge hands grip at Choso’s neckline and yank him up before he can even look away from your perfect pussy under your skirt.

Choso’s face is now inches away from Gojo’s. Gojo breathes heavily against him while his pale fingers bunch at the hood of Choso’s stark black hoodie. He shakes as his yelled words pour out to Choso.

“Are you fucking INSANE? You think it’s just chill to be some creepy perv and stare up my girls skirt like that?” He asks, still just barely apart from Choso. Choso’s eyes dart to you, with a disgusted grimace on your face as you stare right back at him. Then his eyes land on the rest of the crowd fostering around you all. What—20 people? All crowded around you and staring at the scene of campus favorite Gojo ripping into campus loser Choso. “I’m fucking speaking to you, pervert!” Gojo continues to yell.

Shit.

Your manicured nails tap at Gojo’s toned arm before whispering something to him, just quiet enough Choso can’t hear. Your eyes linger on Choso disgustedly the whole time. Whatever you said makes Gojo squint, still staring at him but atleast stopping the yelling. Choso’s mind racks and it seemed Gojo’s is too. His vibrantly blue eyes jitter around and squint even tighter while his eyebrows cinch, likes he’s fighting back the urge to hit Choso. Atleast before he tilts his head to whisper something back to you.

Gojo grits his teeth before he speaks up again, sounding a lot calmer now.

“You’re coming with us. Upstairs. Got it?”

Choso nods before he can even think. Because in all honesty, he’s petrified at the thought of Gojo. He’s mulling over ways to get of this before Gojo pushes at his back roughly and guides him to the stairway.

There are still a million eyes shameless staring at them, at Choso, eyes wide and lips quivering because he’s convinced he’s gonna get his ass beat by Satoru Gojo and his kinda scary girlfriend in his frat house.

You step in front of Choso, hips swaying as he fights back the urge to look down any further than your shoulders in apprehension. A flushed color dusts over his face when your worm through people lounging and loitering on the upstairs steps. He has to shoot his head back down to ignore your panties on display again, taunting him. Gojo still pushes on his back to lead him forward until they reach his bedroom door. Choso grimaces at the poorly drawn penis in black marker that streaks across the otherwise plain white door. He grimaces even harder when he notices how confident you look with a smirk creeping up your glossed over lips.

“Look it was an accid—” Choso tries to reason, only to be met with Gojo stepping closer to him and menacingly staring down at the formers meek demeanor.

“Save it.” Gojo then looks over his shoulder, back to you, gesturing with a point of your finger towards the bed.

“Get on the bed, Choso.” You say, almost sweetly.

Choso’s brows furrow, confused and lost in thought. Gojo looks back to him.

“You heard the woman. Bed.”

Choso wants to say how confused he is, wants to ask why the hell he needs to be on the bed. Maybe it’s some power trip thing to make him feel like a kid getting scolded. All he really knows is that if he doesn’t, Gojo’ll probably do something worse, so he obliges. He sits, hunched over on the navy sheets. His eyes don’t know whether to look at Gojo, across the room, leaning on the door to his fancy en-suite or you, stepping over to Choso now. He settles on you for now, considering you’re probably less likely to murder him if he looks at you for too long.

He anticipates you to stop infront of him and maybe yell, or slap him, or something. What he doesn’t expect you to do is sit right beside him and yank his chin to face yours barely inches away. Your tight grasp and the dig of your nails into his skin feel almost intimate.

His heart races, eyes scrambling all over your face to get any sense of what you’re going to do. Yet you’re completely unreadable. For a moment he forgot Gojo was even there, or even existed at all.

And now he forgets anything but you and him are there when you collide your lips together. His eyes widen in surprise while your glossy lips smack to sloppily meet at his. It’s sloppy but somehow it’s still the most euphoric moment of his life. None of this even makes sense, but fuck if he cares. He leans into the kiss, letting your hands trail to the back of his neck and tightly grip at the hairs along his neck.

You suddenly pull back, spit pooling at your lips from the messiness of the clash.

“Satoru.” You smile so prettily at him, your boyfriend, like you weren’t just eating at another guys face two seconds before. “C’mere, baby.” You gesture to Gojo. Oh how Choso wishes you would call him baby.

Choso’s head flicks to Satoru, then back to you.

“Relax, Kamo. I’m not mad.” Gojo tells him. Though it seems more lika a lie with the pout he has laced on his face. Before he walks fully over to you and Choso on the bed, he tops to take something out of his top dresser drawer. He tosses it behind you two on the bed before Choso can look to see what it is.

Gojo leans down to peck you on the lips, essentially reminding the very confused Choso you’re still his girlfriend, before he redirects his attention back to Choso.

Then, he slams both his hands flat against the bed he’s leaning halfway over, on either side of Choso’s hips. Choso immediately leans back but Gojo just leans forward to match, just inches between them again.

“Kamo.” He simply says above him. Choso’s begins to chew at his lip again while the beaming blue eyes beat down on him again. He smirks down at Choso’s nervousness. “Y’know we’re not just lettin’ you off the hook here, right?” Choso anxiously nods at his words, still biting at his chapped lips.

You lean over to interrupt.

“We’re not gonna hurt you, Cho.” He feels a vat of relief flood his body. You lightly rest your hand on Choso’s arm while his nearly black eyes stare at you almost like a puppy. “You know, if not we can do a lot worse.”

“Y—Yeah, of course.” He nods and stutters out so quickly the speed almost surprises you.

“See!” You point out, targeted at Gojo. “Told you he was a good boy! He’s kinda like an obedient dog.” You chuckle out. Choso blushes and squints embarrassedly at the comparison. Does the cooperation include being humiliated by a hot girl right in-front of you? Gojo still remains with that anticipating smirk above him.

That’s when Gojo’s large pale hand wraps around Choso’s neck. Choso’s eyes widen almost cartoonishly in surprise, befuddled at Gojo’s movement. He stares up at him, deep eyes contrasting bright ones. It seems almost like a repeat of a minute ago when Gojo smashes his lips onto his.

He melts into it just as easily as the first time with you. Gojo’s is even sloppier, though. His tongue breaks through Choso’s lips almost immediately and starts lapping the latter’s own. He leans further, almost lying fully on top of him. Choso leans back onto his elbows as he lets Gojo do whatever, hands still holding at his neck. His breath hitches as he feels Gojo’s cock through his jeans and push against the boner Choso’s been trying to hide since he first saw your underwear. Gojo’s hands move from his neck to pin Choso’s arm above his head. He doesn’t even struggle— he’s sort of starting to understand what you’d said about him being obedient.

Gojo pulls back, face still lingering above him and not centimeters away.

“Get your pants off now and I’ll let you touch her again.” He grumbles, before fully pulling back and giving Choso room to strip. Now it’s easy for Choso to stare up at the boner Gojo’s fostering in his barely concealing jeans. Gojo looms infront of him while Choso scrambles to shuffle out of his jeans and kick them off to the floor.

“Shirt too, dumbfuck.” Gojo snarls like it’s the most obvious thing ever. Choso follows his words and worms out of his t-shirt, branded in some unknown local band. He rests back on his elbows again.

You come up to Choso’s side, having shuffled and removed your dress, sitting in just those panties that caused this, when Gojo and him were enveloped in their kiss. He seems to stare at Gojo’s body when Gojo starts to strip himself. You slink your arms around Choso’s abdomen, worming them so your hands can sit atop his throbbing cock through his tightening boxes.

Choso thinks he’s got to be dreaming.

You knead the ball of your hand down onto his cock firmly. Choso whimpers out, bucking up into the touch with his chest heaving.

Gojo snickers infront of him. You’re no better, snorting at his noises as he feels surrounded. Surrounded by the top of the social class and essentially being their bitch for whatever they want him to do in fear.

“How pathetic.” You quip from behind him, resting your head on Choso’s bare shoulder. “Were you ever like this Satoru?”

“Was never a fucking pervert.” He snarks, staring firmly into Choso’s eyes. Choso feels embarrassed from how hard he’s getting from this. Gojo leans back over Choso’s frame again, the both of you caging him in between you two.

Your hands knead harder at Choso’s dick, drawing pathetically pitchy moans out of him. Gojo’s calloused hand moves your hand out the way before resting almost fully on Choso’s again.

He grinds his hips down to meet Choso’s.

“Gojo!” Choso gasps out. His voice is squeaky and pained but it’s clear he feels nothing but utter pleasure from this.

Gojo’s thick, clothed cock traces over Choso’s, colliding roughly. They throbs at eachother as the dribble of pre-cum through Gojo’s boxers leaks along the meeting of their dicks.

“You fucking love this, don’t you?” Gojo asks above him, smirk yet again coating his perfect face. His breath falls down into Choso’s face, hot and impatient as he waits for an answer.

Choso’s answer forms to make a word before he gasps out again. Your teeth sink into his vampirely pale skin from behind, sucking deep into his bare neck. You suck a clinging bruise into his skin. He moans through the painful pleasure like some pathetic virgin.

You move to suck another one, farther up his neck and Gojo’s hips continue their rolling.

The room fills up with pitiful little ‘ah’s and ‘fuck!’s, all from Choso in seconds.

You pull back for a second while Gojo still stares down at him.

“Flip him over. Wanna feel his mouth already.” You whine, annoyed and impatient. You scoot out the way and Gojo immediately obliges, forcefully manhandling Choso to flip him over and prop him up on his hands and knees, pathetically flushed face sitting between your legs. The panties he craved earlier sit right at his fingertips. And just like that he’s drooling again.

You toss Gojo something Choso doesn’t even catch because he’s too caught up in staring at your underwear.

Your hands yank at his pigtails, pulling his face to sit right infront of your dripping panties. He breaths heavily like he’s witnessing god himself infront of you when you gently pull the lace to the side.

“Go on.” You say impatiently. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it, pervert?” Choso doesn’t have to be told twice before he vehemently laps at your folds. He slurps and noses into your cunt like this is the best meal of his life. You yank his pigtails again to push him up against your pussy even further.

Is this some reward for opening the door for an old woman the other day? He’ll become the goddamn care taker for that lady if it meant he got to taste your pussy again.

Choso’s so enveloped in you he doesn’t even notice Gojo’s now unsheathed cock bouncing out of his boxers behind him. Choso’s hands move to pull your hips closer to wrap your legs around his face when Gojo suddenly peels Choso’s boxers down.

Gojo’s hands push at the small of Choso’s back, putting him into an even further arch while he flips open the cap of the bottle of lube with the other hand. He pours the runny liquid over his fingers before dripping a hefty amount along Choso’s hole, some even dripping all the way down along his dick and balls.

Choso jolts up at the cold feeling as Gojo’s girthy finger probes at the rim. Choso’s pulls his head back, looking back over his shoulder before Gojo’s finger cuts him off.

“What are y—” Gojo’s finger pushes in, opening up Choso’s once virgin hole. A loud, whiny moan rings out into the room when Gojo’s finger glides in. Even his moan is cut off when you pull his head back to work at your cunt again.

His vibrating moans against your pussy and squirms against the bedsheets, leaking pre-cum all over, don’t stop even when Gojo drives his digits deeper, or adds another and another and kneads through his gummy walls.

“Think this is perverts first time up the ass.” Gojo quips from behind him as Choso’s tightens around the digits and pushes his ass back onto them.

“Makes sense. He’s whimpering up into me like a bitch.” You joke back breathlessly. Choso’s tongue still laps at and moans into your pussy like he doesn’t ever plan on stopping. “Eats pussy like a dog too.” Choso’s takes some level of offense to how you don’t mention how he made you cum.

Is it wrong of Choso to say this is the best experience of his life? He feels any normal person would argue being humiliated and essentially spit roasted by an entitled frat boy and his equally bratty girlfriend isn’t the ideal sexual experience. But he’d trade normalcy for this a million times out of ten.

Gojo places his now lubed up tip against Choso’s rim. His head falters from your cunt and lands against the sheets, whimpering in anticipation, arching up against his cock.

Gojo’s large hands grips along the sides of Choso’s hips, heaving to lean over him and pulling him taut to his dick.

“Say you want it.” Gojo grumbles into his ear. Not even condescendingly asking, telling him to say it because he knows he’ll fucking do it.

“..I—I want it.” He whines, eyes squinting while Gojo smirks excitedly behind him. The humiliation coats him, assuming that’s the intended effect from the man behind him.

“Good boy.” And then he pushes in. Choso throws his head back, giving Gojo the perfect opportunity to grab at both his pigtails with one hand. The moan he yells out is near pornographic, loud and pitchy, pathetically screamed out for anyone to hear. His hands claw that the sheets while Gojo groans behind him, not stopping and still driving forward into him till his cock bottoms out in Choso’s tight walls.

The feeling of this is better than any phsyedelics Choso’s ever tried. It feels fucking euphoric, like pure ecstasy injected into his system. He’s so hazed he doesn’t even notice you’re pulling out your phone until you have it positioned in front of his face.

“Say cheese, Choso!” You mock, voice overly happy and giddy for the compromising position you’ve got him lolled in. For gods sake Choso’s face’s still got your slick and cum dripping from his nose to his lips. Gojo’s hand yanks Choso’s head back up, holding up his fucked out face to the camera like some sort of trophy while he widely grins.

When the flash finally clicks, Gojo wastes no time slamming Choso’s head into the mattress and driving in deeper thrusts into him. His moans are even still audibly through the sheets he’s that vocal.

“Fuck he’s tight.” Gojo says inbetween labored breaths as he pounds into Choso, slamming their hips together. “You know, people’d pay good money for this ass. Fuckin’ amazing.”

You’re the first to notice Choso’s tears leaking into the bed. And then you fucking laugh at him.

“Awww, ‘Toru, look.” You point. “He’s crying!” You mock before pulling his hair up for the umpteenth time this night and turning his neck forcefully so Gojo can see the sheer amount of tears pouring down his face while he still fucks into him firmly.

You slink of your slick panties and bring them up to Choso’s face.

“Here, I’ll wipe ‘em up for you.” You shove the red lace into his already ruined face.

You expected a whimper maybe, not for him to instantaneously orgasm and shoot out thick white ropes of cum against the contrasting bed sheets.

When you and Gojo start laughing at him like it’s the funniest joke of all time, all he can think is how he’ll be jerking off to this tomorrow morning.

tags # @ermmnotkatie @sagieshark@ mutedwinter @direlymysticlegend @user165446 @followkira @puzzpisces @kohanic3 @wr3ck3dxxx @aeffecticns @dreanalinee @incorruptedeyes @iloveukmen @ttyl0lxyx @firefisacelover @wretchedvamp @isoldensua @winxclubluvrr @altfayesae @cheezwizdude @enchi-ladass @reesies-stuff @gemwhyy @littlemissxfandomxlover @djwendyw1ll1ams @compulsivejenna @yourincurableromantic @appleite @iwaizumihajime27athletictrainer @astralaureolin-exe @kixtkaxt @gasolinna @gojoshardcumsock @vampirec0w @theprisonrealm @philearete @jihyosdrider

[seribun]

husbands are supposed to keep pretty pictures of their wives in their wallets; if they keep a photo at all, that is. and the photo leon has of you in his wallet is not pretty.

you had picked up his wallet while you left the house in a hurry to run some errands. inside it were not many things—just a costco card, his driver’s license, emergency cash folded neatly, a receipt from eight months ago, his credit card, a photo of your daughter from when she was a toddler, and a photo of you.

it’s a polaroid from when you were pregnant with your daughter and horking down a giant burrito. your hair in a messy bun and some guac smeared on the corner of your lips. out of all the pictures leon could’ve kept in his wallet, he decided on this one. it almost made you laugh in the supermarket.

It’s when you return home that you find him sitting in the garage, working on his bike. you didn’t even ask the question, just wheeze and show him the photo.

leon looks up from the chain of the bike that he was fixing after hearing your laughter and then looking at the small polaroid in your hand. “i keep that in my wallet,” he says calmly, matter-of-factly.

“i look ridiculous,” you huff out. “i’m stuffing that burrito down like i’ve never had food!”

“you look happy, and you’re glowing,” he corrects, a fond smile on his face, as if remembering that moment. “and that’s my favourite photo of you, so i won’t be hearing anything against it.”

© seribun.

[6x-x9]

“caught in 4k”

✦ ݁˖wc :: 0.4+

⟡ ݁˖cw. Satoru! leaks your nudes *accidentally* :: college au :: nudes :: drabble!

Satoru had two flaws.

One: he always thought he was the smartest person in the room.

Two: he never double-checked his tabs.

It’s a regular Tuesday. Boring, grey, post-sex haze still clinging to your skin. You're seated two rows behind him in class, sipping an iced coffee and trying so hard to listen to the lecture on quantum something.

Satoru’s at the front—confident, cocky, laptop open and ready to give his group presentation.

Except.

He’s a menace with tech. And he definitely didn’t close the last tab from last night.

The one labeled "sweets.jpeg."

The one that was very much a picture of you—fully naked, legs spread, pussy glistening, your fingers pulling yourself open for the camera, face flushed and fucked-out, mouth open in a pout.

The room is quiet.

The professor gestures to his laptop. “Go ahead, Satoru. Share your screen.”

And he does.

The projection pings on the whiteboard behind him.

The tab opens.

And there you are.

In HD.

Glistening.

Soaked.

Spread.

Someone in the back gasps. A girl drops her pen. Shoko starts coughing violently. Suguru looks at the ceiling like he’s praying for God to kill him.

You? You choke on your iced coffee.

Satoru doesn't notice for a solid ten seconds. He’s still clicking around, trying to find his slide deck.

Until—

“...Wait. What the fuck?”

He finally sees it.

The moment he does, his soul leaves his body.

The laptop slams shut. The projector blinks to black. He turns a shade of red you've never seen on him before. like sunburn and shame and sheer panic all at once.

“I—uh—wrong file,” he blurts, hands up, voice high. “That wasn’t—uh—science.”

You stare at him wide-eyed, hand clamped over your mouth.

The class erupts. Laughter, chaos. The professor sighs and rubs his temples.

“You had your face in it,” Shoko hisses from behind you, wheezing.

“Oh my God,” you whisper, fully in shock. “I’m gonna die. I’m gonna fucking die—”

Satoru looks right at you, mouth open, like he wants to apologize and laugh and bury himself in the dirt all at once.

You glare.

He mouths: I’m so sorry. Also you looked hot.

You mouth back: You’re dead.

⸺

Later, in the back of his car, he’s kissing every inch of you like a man trying to win back his life.

“I’m gonna print it,” he whispers against your thigh. “Frame it. Tattoo it. Worship it.”

“I can’t believe you leaked my nudes in quantum physics,” you groan.

“I was trying to show the universe, babe.”

“You showed the TA.”

He smirks. “Bet he’s jealous.”

You punch his chest. He kisses your knuckles.

And between giggles, shame, and the heat of his mouth between your legs, you forgive him.

Sort of.

@booboobear-12 @butterbeanandsparkleface

[6x-x9]

✦ ݁˖ wc :: 1.6k

⟡ ݁˖ cw. Mechanic!Toji :: pussy job + fingering :: p in v :: c-pied :: call's you 'slut' once (m' sorry) ::

The garage smelled like motor oil, burnt rubber, and the faint metallic tang of tools that had seen too many long days. Toji Fushiguro wiped the grease from his hands with an old rag, shoulders aching from another twelve-hour shift under hoods and chassis. His black tank top clung to his sweat-slicked chest, muscles flexing as he tossed the rag aside and looked up at the familiar sleek black car that had just rolled into his bay.

You.

Of course it was you again.

The little prissy princess who showed up every other week with some new complaint about her luxury ride. Today the issue was supposedly a weird rattle in the engine, but Toji knew better. You barely drove the damn thing hard enough to cause any real problems. The third time you were back here for this month, and every single visit ended the same way: you batting those lashes, complaining about the bill, and offering to “trade” for the work instead of paying in cash like a normal customer.

He was tired of it. Tired of the games. Tired of pretending he didn’t notice how you dressed just to tease him, short designer skirts that rode up when you leaned over the hood, tight tops that hugged your pretty tits, expensive perfume that cut through the garage stink like it didn’t belong.

You stepped out of the car in those ridiculous heels, hips swaying as you approached him with that signature pout already on your glossy lips.

“Toji, it’s doing that annoying sound again,” you complained, voice sweet and spoiled. “You have to fix it today. I have places to be.”

He stared at you for a long moment, green eyes narrowed, scarred lip twitching. The sun was setting outside, casting long shadows through the open bay doors, and the garage was empty except for the two of you. Just perfect.

“Yeah? And how you plannin’ on payin’ this time, princess?” he asked, voice low and rough from the long day. “Cash? Or you gonna try tradin’ somethin’ else again like last time?”

You tilted your head, giving him that innocent little smile that never reached your eyes. “I thought we had an arrangement…”

Toji tossed the rag onto his workbench and stepped closer, towering over you. The height difference was ridiculous, his broad, grease-stained frame making you look even smaller and more delicate in your expensive little outfit.

“I’m done with the arrangements, doll,” he said flatly. “You been comin’ in here week after week, flashin’ those pretty legs and expectin’ me to eat the cost every time. I ain’t runnin’ a charity.”

Your pout deepened, but there was a spark of something else in your eyes. Challenge, and growing heat, then you crossed your arms under your chest, deliberately pushing your tits up. “Then what do you want, Toji? Name your price.”

He looked you up and down slowly, taking in the short skirt, the way it barely covered the curve of your ass, the expensive stockings hugging your thighs. His cock twitched in his work pants, he had no more shame left today.

“I want you to sit that spoiled little ass of yours, down on the hood of your car,” he said, voice dropping into a dangerous growl. “And I want to eat that prissy pussy until you’re cryin’ and beggin’ me to stop. That’s my price. Take it or pay the full bill in cash right now.”

Your eyes widened, lips parting in genuine surprise. For once you were speechless. Toji smirked, stepping even closer until you had to tilt your head back to look up at him.

“What’s wrong, princess? Cat got your tongue?” he taunted softly. “You been teasin’ me for months. Time to put your money where your mouth is… or rather, put that pretty cunt where my mouth is.”

He didn’t wait for you to answer. His big, calloused hands grabbed your waist and lifted you effortlessly onto the hood of your expensive car. The metal was still warm from the engine. You gasped as he pushed your thighs apart, short skirt riding up to reveal lacy panties that were already damp.

Toji dropped to his knees right there on the dirty garage floor, not giving a single fuck about the grease or the hard concrete. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties and dragged them down your legs, tossing them aside like they were nothing.

“Fuck… look at this spoiled little cunt,” he murmured, spreading your thighs wider with his rough palms. “All pretty and pink and already drippin’ for me. Been actin’ like such a prissy bitch but your pussy knows exactly what it wants.”

He leaned in and dragged his tongue slowly up your slit, groaning at the taste of you. Sweet and slick and so fucking wet. You whimpered, hands flying to his dark hair as he licked you again, slower this time, savoring every inch of your glossy folds.

Toji ate pussy like a man who had been starving for it. No shame, no hesitation. His scarred lips wrapped around your clit and sucked gently while his thick tongue flicked over the sensitive bud. Then he pushed his tongue inside your tight hole, fucking it in and out with wet, tangible sounds that echoed in the empty garage.

You moaned loudly, back arching on the hood as he devoured you. His big hands kept your thighs spread wide, thumbs digging into the soft flesh while he licked and sucked and kissed your cunt like it was the only thing that mattered in the world.

“Shit… you taste even better than I imagined, princess,” he growled against your pussy, voice muffled. “All sweet and spoiled. Been thinkin’ about buryin’ my face between these thighs every time you came in here whinin’ about your car.”

He sucked your clit harder, tongue swirling in fast circles around it until your legs started to shake. One thick finger pushed inside your tight heat, curling up to rub that spongy spot that made you see stars. Then another finger joined, stretching you open while he continued to lap at your clit, in broad licks.

Your hips bucked against his face, moans growing louder and more desperate. Toji didn’t let up, instead he fucked you with his fingers and tongue in perfect rhythm, sucking and licking until your pussy was creaming all over his mouth and chin.

You came hard on his tongue, crying out his name as your walls clenched around his fingers and fresh slick gushed onto his face. Toji groaned in satisfaction, drinking every drop like a man dying of thirst, lapping you clean while you trembled through the aftershocks.

But he wasn’t done.

He stood up, towering over you again, his cock straining painfully against his work pants. Grease still streaked his arms and chest, but he didn’t care. He yanked his belt open and shoved his pants down just enough to free his thick, heavy cock, it slapped up against his stomach, fat and veiny and already leaking precum.

“Turn over, princess,” he ordered, voice rough. “Hands up on the hood. I’m not finished collectin’ payment yet.”

You obeyed on shaky legs, turning around and bracing your hands on the warm hood as he pushed your skirt up around your waist. Toji gripped your hips hard and rubbed the blunt head of his cock through your soaked folds, coating himself in your cream.

“Gonna fuck your spoiled little cunt now,” he growled, pushing the fat tip inside your still fluttering hole. “Gonna stretch you wide open and fill you up until you understand who’s really in charge here.”

He sank into you in one slow, deep thrust, burying every inch until his hips were flush against your ass. You moaned loudly at the stretch, pussy clenching greedily around his thick length. Toji groaned, head falling back for a moment as he savored how tight and wet you felt wrapped around him.

Then he started fucking you properly.

Hard.. and deep, possessive strokes that made your tits bounce and your heels scrape against the concrete floor. The car rocked slightly under the force of his thrusts, the wet slap of skin on skin mixing with your desperate moans and his low grunts.

“Fuck… y'er pussy's so tight, doll” he rasped, one hand sliding up your back to tangled in your hair and then his grip tightened on your curly locks. “Been teasin’ me for months and now you’re takin’ my cock like you were made for it, hah- such er' good little slut when you finally shut up and take it.”

Toji fucked you harder now, hips snapping forward, cock bullying its way against your cervix with every thrust. His free hand reached around to rub your clit in quick circles, pushing you toward another orgasm while he chased his own.

You came again with a broken mewl, pussy spasming violently around his cock as fresh cream coated his shaft. Toji growled and slammed into you a few more times before he buried himself deep and came hard, flooding your cunt with thick, hot ropes of cum.

He stayed inside you for a long moment, breathing heavy, cock twitching as he pumped the last drops into your pretty and utterly loved pussy.

When he finally pulled out, a thick glob of his cum leaked from your stretched hole and dripped down your thighs and onto the hood of your car, Toji smirked, slapping your ass lightly, as much as he wanted to leave his cum on there as a little decoration to your plain af paint job- his better judgement took hold and he wiped it off with his grease rag a moment later.

“Car’s fixed, princess,” he said, voice lazy brimming with satisfaction. “Next time you come in here with another fake problem, I’m bendin’ you over the workbench instead. And you’re gonna pay up front… with y'er pretty pretty cunt.”

You turned around on shaky legs, face flushed and eyes glassy, looking thoroughly fucked and far less prissy than when you'd first walked in.

Toji pulled his pants back up and tossed you your panties with a smug grin.

“Now get outta here before I decide I want seconds. Unless you wanna trade for an oil change too…”

He watched you drive away on still-trembling legs, already knowing you definitely would be back sooner than later.

And the next time? He wouldn’t be so patient about collecting payment.

★ 𝒯 ag list - @barbatoswh0r3 @cttelina @0celotmilk @booboobear-12 @yummidumplingss @liahcharms @mimimochis @fayefavz @butterbeanandsparkleface @megumisrighttoe @megumiessmile @teaspecifically @svvpernova @kashimo--hajime @himboelover @peepopeach @megum1sstepm0m-blog ★

[6x-x9]

-`♡´- teasing & tormenting your bf Choso with his one weakness -`♡´- Art By: @!hunnismokah

Choso’s phone buzzes in his pocket during his morning lecture, right when the professor is deep into a brutal equation on the board. He pulls it out under the desk, expecting maybe a quick “miss you” text. Instead the screen lights up with a photo that makes his cock jerk instantly; you, legs spread wide on your bed, two fingers holding your pretty pussy open so he can see how wet and dripping you are, glistening just for him. The caption reads, “thinking about sitting on your face right now… but you’re stuck in class, poor baby.”

Choso’s breath catches. He shifts in his seat, thighs pressing together as heat floods his face. His fingers tremble when he types back a shaky “baby please not now,” but you only send another one seconds later: a short video this time.

You’re on your knees, ass up, slowly rubbing the blunt head of your favourite toy against your slick folds before pushing it inside with a soft, breathy moan of his name. The angle lets him watch your pussy swallow every inch, lips stretching around the thickness, juices dripping down your thighs.

He nearly drops the phone. A low, broken sound escapes his throat before he can swallow it. The guy next to him glances over, but Choso hunches lower, hood up, trying to look like he’s just taking notes. His cock is already throbbing hard in his sweats, leaking against the fabric, and he can’t stop staring at the way your cunt clenches around the toy in the looping video.

Another buzz. This one’s a close-up selfie: your tits pushed together, nipples hard and shiny from your own spit, while your free hand spreads your pussy lips again, showing him the messy strings of arousal still clinging inside. “Wish you were here stretching me open instead… your fat cock would feel so much better than this. Hurry home after class?”

Choso bites his knuckle, eyes fluttering shut for a second as he pictures it, your tight, dripping heat sinking down on him just like you always do. He’s so hard it hurts. The lecture drags on, and you keep going, relentless. A new photo every few minutes: you riding a pillow, grinding your slick cunt against it with your head thrown back; another of you fingering yourself, three fingers buried deep, knuckles shiny; then one where you’re standing in front of the mirror, skirt flipped up, no panties, bending over so he can see your pussy from behind, lips puffy and begging.

By the time the professor dismisses everyone, Choso is a mess. His face is flushed, cock straining painfully against his clothes, a wet spot already forming where he’s been leaking nonstop. He practically bolts out of the building, texting you back with trembling thumbs: “you’re so fucking mean… I’m coming home right now. Gonna make you regret teasing me like this.”

Your reply is instant: a final nude, you lying on your back with your legs pulled up to your chest, pussy on full display, fingers spreading yourself wide so he can see how ready and open you are. “good boy, door’s unlocked. come use your pretty girlfriend’s cunt however you want… but only if you can stay quiet when I sit on your face and make you clean up all the mess you caused.”

Choso groans out loud in the hallway, drawing a few weird looks, but he doesn’t care. He’s already halfway home, cock aching, mind filled with nothing but the thought of burying his face between your thighs and finally, finally getting to taste the pussy that’s been torturing him all morning.

You push Choso back onto the bed the second he walks through the door, still wearing his hoodie from class. He barely has time to drop his bag before you’re climbing over him, knees planted on either side of his head, skirt already hiked up around your waist. No panties. Just your bare, dripping cunt hovering inches above his face.

“Baby wait—” he starts, eyes wide, but you cut him off by lowering yourself right onto his mouth.

“Shh. Sit there and take it,” you murmur, grinding your slick pussy against his lips. You settle your full weight down, smothering him completely, your soft thighs squeezing the sides of his head. His nose presses into your mound, mouth forced open under your heat. “You’ve been hard all day because of me. Now you’re going to eat this cunt like a good boy until I say stop.”

Choso groans loudly into your folds, the sound vibrating straight through your clit. His hands fly up to grip your hips, but he doesn’t push you away. He pulls you closer instead, tongue dragging desperately through your soaked slit. You taste sweet and messy, still dripping from all the teasing you sent him earlier. He laps at you hungrily, sucking your folds into his mouth, nose buried so deep he can barely breathe.

You rock your hips slowly at first, riding his face like it’s your personal toy. “That’s it. Use that pretty tongue. You wanted this so bad, didn’t you? Sending you all those pictures… knowing your cock was leaking in class while I played with my pussy.”

He whimpers beneath you, muffled and broken. His tongue pushes inside your tight hole, fucking in and out as best he can while you smother him. You can feel his hot breath panting against your cunt, desperate little gasps whenever you lift just enough for him to steal air. Then you sink back down, grinding harder, clit rubbing over his tongue in tight circles.

“Fuck, Choso. Your face feels soooo good,” you moan, leaning forward to brace your hands on the headboard. Your hips move faster now, riding his mouth with wet, filthy sounds. Slick coats his chin, his cheeks, drips down to his neck. He’s making these desperate, sloppy noises, sucking and licking like he’ll die if he stops. “Don’t you dare stop. You’re gonna make me cum all over your tongue.”

Choso’s fingers dig into the fat of your ass, spreading you wider so he can bury his face deeper. His cock strains painfully in his sweats, untouched and throbbing, but he doesn’t even try to touch himself. He just takes it. Takes every roll of your hips, every clench of your pussy against his mouth. When you start bouncing lightly, smothering him in short, rough grinds, his moans turn into frantic, muffled cries.

“You’re so fucking pathetic like this,” you tease, voice breathy and mean. “Lying there letting your girlfriend use your face. Can you even breathe, baby? Or is my cunt all you need?”

He shakes his head slightly, still devouring you, tongue flicking wildly over your swollen clit. His eyes are glassy and wet when you glance down, cheeks flushed dark red. You press down harder, completely smothering him for a few long seconds, feeling him twitch and struggle beneath you before lifting just enough to hear his ragged gasp.

“Good boy,” you purr, grinding your clit right against his tongue again. “Keep going. Make me cum. I wanna soak your whole face.”

Choso doubles his efforts, sucking your clit between his lips, tongue swirling fast and perfect. His hands knead your ass, pulling you down whenever you try to ease up. He’s completely lost in it, moaning nonstop into your pussy, the vibrations pushing you closer and closer.

You ride his face harder, thighs trembling around his head, until the pleasure snaps tight inside you. “Fuck— aaaah... Choso im cummin'—”

Your orgasm crashes over you, pussy clenching and gushing all over his tongue. You grind down through it, smothering him completely while you shake and moan, flooding his mouth with your release. He drinks every drop, licking you clean like he’s starving, soft desperate whimpers still vibrating against your sensitive folds.

When you finally lift off, his face is a shiny mess, lips swollen, eyes dazed and adoring. He gasps for air, chest heaving, but his tongue still darts out to chase any drop he missed.

You smile down at him, stroking his wet hair. “We’re not done yet. Catch your breath… then I’m sitting back down. You’re going to keep eating this pussy until I can’t cum anymore.”

Choso just nods weakly, voice hoarse. “Yes… please. Use me. I want it all.” His cock twitches hard in his pants, leaking steadily, ready for whatever mean thing you do to him next.

[6x-x9]

-`♡´- Riding Choso silly in his dorm... ! :: 18+ :: fem!reader ::

Your boyfriend Choso is sprawled on his narrow dorm bed, sheets already twisted beneath his back, sweat glistening on his pale skin. The room is dim, only the desk lamp casting a soft glow over his messy hair and those dark amber eyes that keep fluttering half-shut every time you shift. His roommate’s out for the night, but the thin walls mean voices carry, and Choso knows it. He’s biting his lip so hard it’s turning white, trying so damn hard to stay quiet like a good boy.

You’re straddling him, thighs spread wide over his hips, your slick cunt already stretched around the thick head of his cock. He’s so hard it aches, fat and heavy, pulsing inside you as you sink down another inch. A broken little whimper slips from his throat before he can swallow it.

“Shh,” you whisper, voice low and sweet and so fucking mean. You roll your hips slow, letting him feel every ridge as you take him deeper. “Be quiet, baby. Your friends are right next door. You don’t want them to hear how loud you get when I fuck you, do you?”

Choso’s hands fly to your waist, fingers digging in like he’s drowning. “F-fuck… I’m trying,” he gasps, voice cracking. His cock twitches hard inside you, leaking more precum into your dripping heat. “You feel too good… can’t… ah—”

You cut him off by lifting yourself up until just the tip is kissing your entrance, then dropping back down in one smooth glide. The wet sound of your pussy swallowing him is obscene in the quiet room. Choso’s head snaps back against the pillow, a strangled moan tearing out of him before he slaps a hand over his own mouth.

“See?” you tease, grinding down deep, clit rubbing against his pelvis. You lean forward just enough to let your tits brush his chest, nipples hard and dragging over his skin. “That’s what happens when you’re loud. They’ll know exactly what a needy little slut you are for your girlfriend’s cunt.”

He whines behind his palm, hips jerking up involuntarily. “Please… don’t stop,” he mumbles, words muffled. His eyes are glassy, cheeks flushed dark. “I need it… need you riding me harder.”

You smile, all sugar and cruelty, and start bouncing properly now. Up and down, slow at first, then faster, the slap of skin on skin growing louder no matter how much he tries to hold back. Every time you sink down, his fat cock splits you open so perfectly, dragging against that spot that makes your toes curl. Choso’s breathing is ragged, little punched-out sounds escaping with every thrust.

“Quiet,” you remind him again, voice dripping honey as you clench around him on purpose. “Or I’ll have to stop and leave you like this, all hard and dripping and desperate.”

“No—no, please,” he begs, voice breaking into a whimper. His fingers bruise your hips, trying to pull you down harder. “I’ll be good, I swear… just don’t stop fucking me.”

You ride him like that for a while, mean little laughs slipping out when he fails miserably at staying silent. His moans keep spilling out, deep and wrecked, turning into these pretty, desperate noises that make your pussy flutter around him. Then, just when he’s starting to lose it, you lift off completely. His cock slaps wetly against his stomach, shiny with your juices, throbbing angrily in the cool air.

Choso lets out a devastated sound, eyes flying open. “Wait—baby, what are you—”

You swing your leg over and turn around, settling into reverse cowgirl. The view is perfect for him now. You reach back, spread your ass a little with one hand, and let him watch as you line his fat cock up with your dripping hole. Slowly, so slowly, you sink down, letting every inch disappear inside you while he stares.

“Oh my god,” Choso groans, long and filthy. His hands immediately grab your hips again, thumbs pressing into the dimples at the small of your back. “Look at that… your pretty cunt taking me so deep. Fuck, I can see everything.”

You lean forward, arching your back like a lazy kitten, ass up and chest pressed to his thighs. The new angle has his cock hitting even deeper, bullying right against your cervix with every tiny shift. “Then fuck me, Choso,” you purr, voice teasing. “Show me how bad you want it. Make me feel it.”

He snaps.

His grip tightens and he starts thrusting up into you, hard and fast, the bed creaking under the force. The wet slap of his hips meeting your ass fills the room now, no holding back. Every stroke is deep, punishing, his balls smacking against your clit. You can feel him losing control completely, hips stuttering, cock swelling even thicker inside you.

“Shit—shit, you’re so tight,” he pants, voice raw. “Taking my cock like such a good girl… fuck, I’m gonna—ah—gonna cum if you keep squeezing me like that.”

You moan softly, pushing back to meet his thrusts, letting him fuck up into you like an animal. “Then cum, baby. Fill me up. But don’t you dare get loud. Your friends might hear what a mess you make when you’re buried in my pussy.”

Choso’s rhythm falters, a broken cry ripping from his throat despite your warning. “Can’t… can’t help it,” he sobs, pounding harder. “You’re too much… too wet, too perfect… fuck, I love you, I love your cunt so much—”

He’s gone now, hips snapping up wildly, chasing that edge. You clench around him on purpose, milking him, and that’s all it takes. Choso buries himself to the hilt with one last desperate thrust, his cock pulsing as he spills hot and thick inside you. Rope after rope, flooding your pussy while he whimpers and moans your name like a prayer, trying and failing so miserably to stay quiet.

You ride out the last of his orgasm, grinding back slow, feeling him twitch and leak inside you. When he finally collapses back against the sheets, chest heaving, you glance over your shoulder with a wicked little smile.

“See what happens when you can’t behave?” you murmur, voice soft and teasing. “Next time I might have to gag you… or maybe I’ll just let your friends listen to how pretty you sound when you fall apart for me.”

Choso just whines, pulling you down against him, still buried deep, already half-hard, like the needy boy he is, pressing soft loving kisses along your neck getting oh so desperate for you all over again.

-`♡´- MAIN MASTERLIST -`♡´- -`♡´-CHOSO'S M-LIST-`♡´-

[6x-x9]

ಇ.word count: 3.8k ಇ.art by: @!narutoss.ramen on X

ಇ.pairing: Nerd!Satoru x Nerd!Reader

ಇ.content & warnings: ꒰non canon au ⋮⋮ crack! ⋮⋮ reader & satoru are heavily inexperienced ⋮⋮ dry humping ⋮⋮ bathroom stall handjob ⋮⋮ prem-ejaculation ⋮⋮ fingering ⋮⋮ multi-orgasms ⋮⋮ kissing꒱

Satoru Gojo is fucking gorgeous, which is so deeply unfair that you’re still kind of processing it as he pays for your movie ticket with trembling fingers. His white hair is slightly tousled, soft against his ears, and his glasses are tilted just a bit on the bridge of his nose. He keeps pushing them up like he’s stalling, trying not to meet your eyes too long because every time he does, he gets flustered. His face goes pink and he laughs too loud. You bite your lip every time he does that.

You’re no better. Your hands are clammy inside the sleeves of your hoodie, because you thought this was going to be a safe little date. Nerdy. Harmless. You met at a fucking Doraemon expo for god’s sake, where he gave you a Doraemon-shaped candy and then looked like he wanted to die from shyness.

And now you’re sitting in a too-dark movie theatre with his knee brushing yours.

You think you’re gonna die too. Because there’s heat pooling between your legs, and you're pretty sure you’ve soaked through your panties, and this was supposed to be your first normal date. Not a panty-ruining, thigh-clenching disaster where you keep imagining his stupid hot fingers pulling your hoodie up and touching you like you're not both trembling virgins about to combust from one misplaced touch.

Satoru’s voice cracks in the dark.

“You, uh— are you okay?”

You look at him, wide-eyed. “What? Yeah. I’m fine.”

He fidgets. “You’re breathing kinda fast.”

You are. Shit.

“I’m just…” you squirm, thighs pressed tight together. “The seats are uncomfortable.”

He makes a strangled little laugh, eyes darting to the screen and then back to your mouth. You don’t know who moves first, but a second later, your hands are brushing in the popcorn bag and boom— your bodies are pressed together like magnets.

The movie is completely forgotten. You’re both leaning toward each other, breathing the same hot air, and it’s dizzying how close he is. His scent is soft and clean, like soap and sugar and some light cologne that makes your thighs ache. Your lips almost brush before he pulls back, cheeks pink.

“I-I gotta pee,” he blurts. Then winces. “Fuck. Not like— fuck, I didn’t mean it like—”

You stare at him, lips parted.

“…Me too,” you whisper. “Bathroom. I mean.”

So of course, of course, ten minutes later, you’re both in the tiny single-stall bathroom behind the snack bar, the door locked, and you’re pressed against the wall with Satoru’s hands hovering an inch from your waist like he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to touch you.

You’re panting.

So is he.

And there’s the faintest bulge pressing against his pants.

“You’re hard,” you whisper, stunned.

Satoru turns bright red. “I didn’t mean to be! I swear I wasn’t thinking anything— well I was thinking but not like— well yes like that but I didn’t expect you to—”

“I’m wet.”

That shuts him up.

He blinks. “Wha— You, wait really?”

You nod furiously. “Soaked. I thought I was dying. You’re, l-like— you’re so hot and tall and your hands are big and I thought—”

He sways toward you like he’s being pulled by gravity.

“You think I’m hot?” he breathes, shocked.

Your voice is barely a whisper. “You’re like—the hottest guy I’ve ever seen.”

“…But I’m a virgin.”

You blink. “You’re a virgin?”

He freezes. “You didn’t know?”

You shake your head. “You’re too confident. And tall. And your voice, like— you talk like you’ve seen shit.”

“I haven’t! I’ve literally never seen anything. I still sleep with a body pillow.”

“Oh my god.”

You both start laughing, but it’s too breathy, too nervous. You’re looking at his lips again.

“I thought you weren’t a virgin,” he admits, voice low now, almost in awe. “You look like— like—”

He waves helplessly at your body. “You’re so pretty. So hot. You look like you’d ruin me.”

“I’ve never even kissed anyone,” you whisper.

“Me either,” he says.

There’s a beat of silent realization.

Then— tentatively— his hands touch your waist. He’s shaking.

“Can I…”

You nod. “Yeah. Please.”

The kiss is terrible. Teeth clashing, noses bumping, your mouths slipping messily before you both pull away with startled laughter. But his face is flushed, and his eyes are glassy, and your thighs are pressed tight together because the way he’s looking at you is not innocent anymore.

“We’re so bad at this,” you whisper.

“I’m gonna die,” he mumbles, forehead pressed to yours.

“I’m so wet I think my panties are ruined,” you say, like a confession.

He groans. “That’s so hot, please don’t say things like that unless you want me to cum in my pants.”

You both snort, but neither of you moves away.

“Can I… touch you?” he whispers, barely audible.

Your eyes widen, breath catching.

“…Yes. But I don’t— I don’t really know how.”

“Me either,” he whispers. “Let’s be awkward together.”

You reach for his belt, and he lifts your hoodie just enough to see the swell of your tits in your bra. And then you both freeze, panting, staring— because holy fuck this is actually happening.

Two very horny, very confused virgins. In a bathroom. At the movies.

Grinding desperately like you’re learning each other’s bodies in braille.

His hands find your hips, pulling you closer. Your fingers tremble at his zipper. And you swear— you swear— when your pussy brushes against his bulge through your panties and tights, he nearly whimpers.

You're both gonna combust.

You’re still half-laughing, half-gasping into his neck, your panties damp and sticking to you like sin, and Satoru’s hard dick is pressed against your inner thigh through his jeans like it hurts. He keeps doing these little shaky inhales, fingers digging into your hoodie at the waist like he needs something to hold onto or he’ll float off the planet.

His glasses are fogged. His cheeks are pink. And when you drag your nose along his jaw just to feel him shiver, he makes the softest noise you’ve ever heard. A tiny, broken sigh— like the kind of sound you might make when someone pets your hair just right.

You feel like you’re on fire.

“You’re really… hard,” you whisper, a little dreamy, dragging your hand down the front of his jeans like you’re curious more than anything else. Because you are. You can feel the length of him, thick and hot under the denim, twitching at just the barest touch of your fingers. “Like… all the way.”

“I know,” he whines, quietly. “It’s been like that since the popcorn scene.”

You giggle. “We didn’t have a popcorn scene.”

“You were licking butter off your fingers.”

“…Oh. Yeah okay, fair.”

You’re still staring at the bulge in his jeans. It’s insane. It’s… kind of intimidating, honestly. But you’re so curious, and he looks like he might actually die from the idea of you wanting to see him like this.

“Can I see it?” you whisper.

His breath catches. His whole body freezes.

“You— my… dick?”

You nod shyly, face burning. “Just once. I just— I wanna know what it looks like.”

He stares at you like you’re a mythical creature. “You really want to see it?”

“…Yeah.”

His fingers are shaking as he fumbles with his zipper.

You don’t look away— not even when he shoves his boxers down and his cock bounces free, flushed and heavy and dripping. You make a noise, something halfway between shock and awe, because holy shit he’s big. Not just big— long, curved a little toward his stomach, thick enough that your mouth goes dry. The tip is glossy and wet, a pretty pink color— a clear bead clinging to the slit like he’s leaking from just grinding on you.

“Oh my god,” you whisper, stunned.

Satoru makes a noise that’s not human. “D-don’t look at it like that.”

“I can’t help it,” you breathe. “It’s pretty.”

His brain shuts down.

“Pretty?” he croaks.

You nod dumbly, staring. “It’s like… glossy. And pink. And it’s twitching.”

He groans. “Don’t say twitching—”

“But it is! It’s like it’s waving at me or something. It looks so needy.”

He grabs the wall behind your head like he might collapse.

“You’re so cute,” you whisper. “You’re really hard just from kissing me.”

“You’re soaking,” he counters, voice hoarse. “You’ve been wet for an hour.”

You whimper a little. “I didn’t even know I could get this wet.”

Satoru groans again and cups himself like it’ll stop him from cumming just from talking to you.

You reach out— slowly— and wrap your fingers around the base.

He jolts, hips stuttering forward into your hand like it’s instinct. His eyes flutter shut and his whole body shudders, like he’s never felt anything like this.

“…You’re so warm,” you whisper. “And thick.”

“I’m gonna cum,” he blurts.

You pause. “Wait, already?”

“I told you,” he gasps, pressing his face into your neck. “It’s your voice— fuck, the way you’re touching me—”

You slide your hand up and watch his cock twitch, leaking over your fingers.

He sobs a little. “Angel, please—”

That makes you freeze.

“…Angel?”

He peeks up at you, embarrassed. “It slipped out.”

You bite your lip, then smile, stroking him again. “I like it.”

“You’re so soft,” he moans. “And your hand’s so small, it doesn’t even fit—”

You squeeze a little tighter. He gasps.

“Tell me when,” you whisper, eyes wide. “I don’t wanna waste it. You’ve been hard for so long.”

“‘When’?” he pants.

“Yeah,” you say, breath catching. “I want to see what your cum looks like too.”

He shatters.

Just like that— hot, thick ropes spill out across your fingers, your hoodie, his shirt. You watch with wide, fascinated eyes as his whole body curls toward yours, hips stuttering, voice cracked and pleading into your shoulder. His cock throbs in your hand like it’s losing its mind. He sounds so helpless, so high and soft when he whimpers your name.

You stare at the mess.

“…Whoa.”

He’s panting against your cheek, totally limp. “That was so embarrassing.”

“It was awesome,” you breathe. “I made you cum.”

“I exploded in ten seconds.”

You stroke his hair. “I think you’re perfect.”

He melts a little into your chest.

“…You wanna see me next?” you whisper.

His head jerks up like a prairie dog.

Satoru’s still shaking.

You can feel it— his breath hot and unsteady on your neck, his heartbeat punching against your ribs where your bodies press together. Satoru Gojo just came all over your hand like some desperate teenager, having a wet dream, and you’re still standing in a movie theater bathroom, soaked to the skin and so turned on it’s getting hard to breathe.

His cum is sticky on your fingers. Warm, it smells faintly like salt and sugar, and he’s still leaning against you like he’s not sure how to stand on his own.

And then—

Your voice, soft and daring, nearly a whisper:

“…You wanna see me next?”

Satoru blinks. Eyes blown wide. Mouth parted, in disbelief.

“…Are you serious?”

You nod.

He looks stunned. “Like… your pussy?”

Your whole face burns.

“Y-yeah,” you stammer, suddenly nervous. “If you want. I mean— I know it’s— kind of a lot, and maybe messy, but I just… I’ve never… shown anyone." You're looking down at the floor before you finish the rest of that sentence... then your eyes are darting back up to his face, blue eyes stargazed in disbelief. “And I want you to see.”

He’s speechless, Satoru is utterly speechless.

You fidget, heart thudding, tugging your hoodie down like it can hide the way your thighs are trembling, how wet you still are under your panties.

“I just thought… since I saw yours…”

His hand flies up, quick. Cupping your face, both of you look into each other's eyes.

“I want to,” he blurts. “I want to so bad I think I’m gonna die.”

You smile, shy and giddy. “Okay. Then… can you take my panties off?”

He gasps.

Like, actually gasps. Clutches his chest. Staggers backward like you hit him with a spell.

“Say that again,” he whispers.

You reach under your hoodie, slowly rolling your leggings down to your thighs, revealing just a sliver of your pale pink cotton panties, soaked straight through. There’s a wet patch over your pussy— obvious, shiny, and dark.

“Take them off,” you whisper, voice trembling. “Please?”

He looks like he might cry.

“Oh my god,” he chokes. “You’re so wet you soaked through. That’s from me? From just— grinding on me?”

You nod, cheeks flushed. “You made me so wet I couldn’t focus on the movie.”

His hands are on your thighs now, huge and hot, trembling a little as he sinks to his knees in front of you like he’s not even aware he’s doing it. His glasses slide down his nose. He pushes them up, eyes fixed on your panties like they’re the most sacred thing he’s ever seen.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he whispers, “but I wanna learn so bad.”

You’re breathing so fast your legs are shaking.

His fingers slide under the sides of your panties. He hesitates.

“Ready?” he asks, voice so soft.

You nod, in eager anticipation, like when you know you're about to rip a band-aid off. But... in this case, it's your soaked sticky ruined panties.

And he pulls them down.

Slow, slow, slow

The cotton clings to your cunt, like they're almost glued to you, but he gets them off with a firmer tug.

Your cunt glosses in the light.

Dripping. Swollen. Slick as fuck and twitching under his gaze. You clench a little just from the air, the tension, the way he’s looking at you like he just saw an angel squirt holy water.

He moans. Moans.

“You’re so pretty,” he breathes. “Holy shit, you’re soaked. I didn’t know it could do that.”

You giggle nervously. “It doesn’t usually. I think it’s a you thing.”

He gulps, audibly.

His eyes don’t leave your pussy, even as he leans forward, nose almost brushing your thigh.

“Can I… touch you?”

You feel your knees threaten to buckle.

“Yes.” You say with too much enthusiasm than you meant.

His fingers twitch. “I don’t know how.”

You grab his wrist and guide it...

His middle finger barely grazes your folds and you gasp, clenching, hips jumping forward.

“Oh fuck,” he moans. “That was barely anything. You’re shaking.”

“You touched my clit,” you pant. “It’s sensitive.”

His eyes sparkle.

“Oh my god. I love that you know what it’s called.”

You’re breathless, laughing a little. “I’ve read fanfiction. Have you not?”

“I have, but in those they just say ‘your little pearl’ and shit.”

You groan. “That’s not even close.”

He’s looking again, hand hovering like he’s terrified to mess it up.

“Okay, so… this is your clit,” he murmurs, grazing it again, watching how your whole body twitches. “It’s so tiny. But you sound like I electrocuted you when I touched it.”

You whimper, cause he's teasing... He's curious as well and doesn't fucking know how much him petting your clit actually affects you.

“You like that?” he whispers, a bit entranced. Crystalline blue eyes focusing on the sticky strands of your slick connected to his fingertips as they stretch when he rubs and pulls them off your glued pussylips.

“Y-yeah.”

He touches again, a little firmer... slower, really working your clit, the soft squelches audible, he really wants to taste it, the creamy thing webbing his fingers, the thought pounding in his head.. Would you be grossed out if he just shoved his fingers in his mouth right now and got a taste of that sappy cream?

You whimper louder, snapping his attention back from his lewd thoughts.

His voice is shaking. “Can you c-cum like this? Just from me touching you?”

You nod furiously. “If you keep going, Fuck. Please keep going.”

His thumb brushes you now, a bit more confidently.

“You’re dripping,” he mumbles. “It’s getting on my wrist, angel”

Your thighs snap shut, embarrassed.

But you’re so close and he’s still rubbing in slow, shaky circles and whispering your name and watching you like he’s studying for a test he’s gonna fail with honors. Your clit feels like it’s throbbing. You can’t stop shaking. Can’t stop whining.

And then—

“Cum for me,” he whispers, awed. “Please, please pretty girl, I wanna see.”

That makes your cunt clench, his voice the thing that makes you break instantly.

You clam up around nothing, crying out as your pussy gushes over his hand, wet and twitchy, making a fucking mess on his hoodie sleeve. Your knees give out. He catches you instantly, still on his knees, arms full of shaking, panting girl.

You’re sobbing in relief, thighs sticky, pussy still fluttering, and his hands are holding you like he’s afraid you’ll vanish.

“You’re so amazing,” he breathes. “I can’t believe I made you cum.”

You whimper. “You’re so good. I didn’t think it would feel like that.”

He kisses your thigh.

Then your stomach, and makes his way up and then your lips, just to feel you.

Soft and careful, with utmost devotion and care.

And you melt against him, fucked out and flushed, pressed to his chest.

“…We should do this again,” he mumbles.

“Next time,” you pant, smiling, “I wanna see if you can make me squirt.”

He chokes, on what little air he's breathing.

But you’re still trembling.

Your panties are hanging off one ankle, his cum is drying on your sleeve, and your pussy is throbbing— still fluttering every now and then like your body can’t believe you actually came. You’re slumped against Satoru’s chest, half-limp, while he rubs soft little circles on your lower back like he’s trying to soothe an overstimulated kitten.

Time is passing and neither of you has said anything in the last full minute.

Except him whispering “holy fuck” under his breath every ten seconds like a mantra.

“I can’t believe that just happened,” he finally says, voice all hushed reverence. “You came.”

You nod, agreeing lazily. Dazed, and still reeling in the high. “Like… a lot.”

“You squirted.”

“I did not.”

“There was liquid. Splash zone level.”

You slap his chest, giggling, but your thighs twitch. You’re so sensitive you could cry, your clit aches in that perfect, pulsing way that means it wants no more and yet… you’re still soaking wet.

And you feel it. That ache deeper inside you now. Heavy and throbbing. Unused.

Unsatisfied.

You shift against him, face buried in the soft cotton of his shirt, and whisper:

“…Satoru?”

“Yeah?”

“I want you to put your fingers in me.”

You feel him freeze. Every muscle goes stiff. His hands still on your back. You feel his dick— hard again— press against your thigh like it heard you first.

“Wha— what.”

You look up at him, breath shaky. “You made me cum from the outside. But I’ve never been touched inside.”

His ears go red.

“I— I don’t wanna hurt you—”

“You won’t.” You take his wrist, place his hand gently against your mound. “I trust you.”

He swallows hard. You begin to guide his fingers between your thighs again, letting him feel how wet you still are. You gasp a little just from the contact— still sensitive, still twitchy.

His voice comes out hoarse. “You’re soaked.”

“Just go slow,” you whisper. “I wanna know what it feels like.”

He moves down again and actually takes his jacket off and spreads it over the tiles beneath you. He's kneeling like it’s instinct now, reverent and worshipful. Like he belongs on the floor for you. He kisses your inner thigh once, sweet and shaky, then stares between your legs like he’s seeing magic.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he says.

You nod, open for him by parting your thighs, trembling ever so slightly.

His fingers sliding along your sappy folds, middle finger inching closer to your hole's opening, more slick gathers and pools as it tries to worm its way in.

You gasp at the feeling.. a bit in fear and uncertainty, but he's so gentle, holding you tighter against him.

His finger begins to push in, your tiny hole fighting him, the intrusion. It's nothing like you've ever felt.

Satoru’s breathing stops entirely.

“You’re tight,” he whispers, stunned. “You’re— fuck, you’re so warm, I can feel your pulse.”

You whimper. “Go slow. Just the tip.”

He pushes a little, and you clench involuntarily, sucking him in just a bit.

He moans. Actually moans. Like you’re the one touching him.

“Angel, you’re gripping me.”

You bury your face in your sleeve, whining. “It’s not fair. Your fingers are big.”

He curls his finger just slightly— experimenting— and your entire body jolts.

“Oh— oh fuck!” you cry out.

His eyes go wide. “Was that— was that good?”

“D-do it again,” you pant.

He does. Gentler, carefully pressing just right, and your walls flutter around him so tightly it’s like your body doesn’t know how to handle it.

“You’re so wet,” he mumbles. “You’re sucking me in.”

You grab his wrist. “Try two.”

He stares. “Are you sure?”

“Please, Satoru.”

You’re breathless, begging.

He shivers like it physically affects him.

He slides another finger in— and your pussy stretches around him, tighter than he expected. Your mouth drops open. Your thighs twitch.

“Oh my god,” you gasp.

“Fuck, you’re squeezing me— I can’t move,” he moans.

You rock your hips, helping him, whining through your teeth.

It’s deep. It’s thick. He curls again— and you sob, eyes fluttering back.

“There— oh my god there, right there—”

His fingers are hooked now, rubbing that spongey spot deep inside that makes your eyes cross. His thumb finds your clit on instinct, and suddenly you’re wailing, your whole body shaking, your pussy clenching so hard around his fingers he can barely move.

You cum again, messier and needy. Your velvet walls constricting his fingers in waves.

And he watches, awed, wrecked. His other hand supporting you as your thighs tremble uncontrollably.

He doesn’t even pull out.

He just whispers, “You’re so beautiful when you cum.”

And you start crying.

Happy tears. Dumb overwhelmed tears. Because no one’s ever touched you like this, seen you like this, loved your body with nothing but his hands and awe.

He kisses your forehead.

You sniffle. “I want you inside me someday.”

He nods. “Me too.”

“…But I might have to train for it.”

He laughs, breathless. “Me too. My heart can’t take this.”

You null away on his chest for a minute. Exhausted by everything your body's endured tonight, your panties still on the floor, his arms still secured tight around you and he press soft kisses to the top of your head.

Eventually when he slowly eases his fingers out of you, you're relaxed, no longer holding them hostage, it slides out with a flurry of slick gushing out, all what's been welling up and stuffed inside your cunt for the entire time.

He rubs it up and down your pussylips then into your clit one last time before he's bringing his fingers to his lips, and moaning as your flavour hits his tongue. Finally, getting a taste of you and he couldn't be more pleased at the tangy-sweetness of it.

Satoru licks his fingers clean, savouring it and after he's the one reaching for your panties, tugging them back up along with your leggings as he tells you softly to, "Raise your hips for me please, angel. Good girl, just like that." You do, and he secures them back in place, cunt still pulsing. Fresh slick soaking your panties again.

Satoru stands first, all long limbs and easy grace and he reaches down for you next. His hands are warm as he pulls you up from the bathroom floor. His jacket lies there still, a dark wet patch blooming where your cunt had soaked through.

Heat floods your cheeks, you're quick to mumble an apology, eyes glassy with leftover pleasure and sudden shyness.

He just chuckles softly. Bends to snatch the jacket up like it’s nothing. He balls it in one hand and tucks it under his arm.

“Shh, angel. It’s fine.”

He cups your face, thumbs brushing your flushed skin. Then he kisses you slow and deep, tasting like sin and sweetness. “One wash and it’ll be brand new. Don’t worry about it.”

He doesn’t tell you he plans to keep it exactly like this. A filthy little souvenir, from tonight.

His fingers lace with yours as he leads you out of the stall. The movie is long forgotten. He keeps you tucked close against his side the whole way through the emptying theater. The night air hits cool when you step outside.

In the car he drives with one hand on the wheel, the other resting on your thigh. Possessive and gentle.

Later that night you lie in bed, sheets tangled around your legs. Your phone glows in the dark. Heart hammering, you type the silly questions anyway.

you 🩷 so… are we... dating? omg omg am i your girlfriend now?!

His reply comes instantly.

toru 🩵 i knew we were soulmates when you asked to see my dick aaaand called it "pretty" ilysm angel omg

You giggle into your pillow, face burning. Your chest feels too full. Tonight was crazy. Wild and messy and perfect.

But now one, no two orgasms later and Satoru Gojo is yours. Officially. The nerd from the Doraemon expo.

You fall asleep smiling stupidly into your pillow, already wondering when you’ll feel his hands on you again.

[hijkio]

Old habits die hard

[torumaii]

✮⋆˙. (▀▀̮▀) The strongest teaches you how to squirt . . .

You wanted to learn how to squirt.

Like, you really wanted to learn.

Being all over Twitter didn't help you either, as there's always somebody asking, oh, “ how do you squirt?” Or, “guys, I just learned how to squirt for the first time and I've never felt so much better.” And you just can't help but get FOMO.

Okay yeah sure, every time Gojo fucks you really good, it feels amazing, but something's missing.

He's already done everything in the book with you, with a few concepts here and there untouched, but you always end up satisfied, so you never dwelled on it.

You just really, really wanted to try feeling something new.

You already tried to do it yourself countless times, but your fingers could never reach the spots that he does, especially since his are significantly longer than yours.

So when he's currently fucking you and training your pussy to be more sensitive, it seems you finally get the hang of it.

“Mngh— fuck toru that…feels s’good..”

Gojo's long fingers curl deep inside your soaked pussy, his thumb pressing and pushing hard against your swollen clit with constant pressure.

He watched your face intently, bright blue eyes focusing on your pretty face as your walls flutter around his digits.

"Thaaat's it, baby," he murmurs, voice low and rough against your ear.

"You said you wanted to learn, yeah?"

His pace kept quickening as both fingers pumped into you steady, scissoring slightly on each thrust to stretch you open while his palm slaps wetly against your mound.

Your hips buck up off the bed, chasing the overwhelming sensation slowly building low in your belly.

Every stroke drags against that sensitive spot inside you, sending heatwaves through your body.

Gojo moves down, sucking one of your nipples right into his mouth. He bites down just hard enough to make you whine out, before soothing the sting with his tongue.

His free hand pins your thigh wider, keeping you spread for him as he works through your pussy harder.

Your breath comes out in short gasps when the pressure inside you grows almost unbearable, feeling like a tight coil getting tighter and tighter before releasing itself.

Your pussy clenches eagerly around his fingers as finally, a sudden rush of clear liquid sprays out all around them, soaking his hand and his wrist, along with the sheets beneath you in a hot, messy gush.

Gojo smiles and groans at the sight, fingering you through it with quick movements, so that the squirt keeps coming in short bursts.

"Fuuck, look at that," he growls, eyes locked on the way your cunt pulses and sprays. "So pretty when you let loose like that."

Your thighs tremble, clit becoming achingly sensitive.

You gripped the sheets and looked down at the mess, “hah…oh my god…what a mess..”

Another wave hits as he keeps rubbing your clit in tight circles, drawing out every last tremor and whine until you're left twitching, the new bedsheets already soiled under you.

He finally slows his hand down, but doesn't pull out, carefully stroking your inner walls as the aftershocks roll through you.

"Atta girl," he praises, voice coated with satisfaction.

"Knew you had it in you."

[doviled]

satosugu are cheating on each other with you, part two.

part one here!

you knew your nebulous position as the other woman was never going to last. when you’re the affair partner of both people in the same relationship, it’s inevitable that the truth will eventually come out. you just decide to have it happen on your own terms.

you escalate your own behaviour; with suguru, who you mostly have sex with and share the occasional drink, you up your antics. you leave behind lip gloss, you kiss bruises in places he won’t immediately notice, keep your nails sharper to scrape lines down his skin. you moan in his ear as he fucks you and ask, “what would your husband think, if he walked in here right now? watching me take you like i’m the one you’re married to?” just to relish in the way his voice strangles on a heavy groan as he comes.

with satoru, who’s far more interested in the emotional side of things, you devote yourself fully to the role of secret girlfriend. with suguru, you might be a nice, illicit fuck for when his husband’s busy. with satoru? you’re the partner he wishes his husband was. he takes you on elaborate dates, he buys you flowers, he flourishes with every sweet kiss and whispered affirmation. when he calls you late at night, paralysed with fear because he just knows his husband is cheating, you leave suguru in bed to console him from the safety of your bathroom. he can barely look at you when he fucks you, refuses to turn the lights on, then shudders in your arms as you nurture him in the aftermath.

it’s manipulative. you’re halfway in love with them from the thrill alone. you let it build and build, watch as their marriage slowly falls apart from their own actions, and, when it’s all coming to a climax, you arrange a threesome.

in the end, it’s easy. you invite them. suguru tells you happily that his husband’s out of the prefecture that weekend, and he misses you so much, sweetheart. can’t stop thinking about you. satoru tells you his husband is definitely with that homewrecker, so why can’t he spend a weekend with you? they don’t even care about the third, so long as you make sure they’re hot.

then they both show up, and it’s glorious.

after all, aren’t you blameless? it’s suguru that told you he wants something casual, satoru who said he doesn’t mind if you see someone else at the same time, since he’s doing the same. it’s not your fault they’re cheating. it’s not your fault they’ve accidentally fallen for the same woman outside of their marriage. it’s definitely not your fault that you accidentally arranged a threesome with both of them. how could you know? it’s not like suguru’s ever seen you snooping through his apartment. it’s not as if satoru has given you any details about his wayward husband, either.

there’s a moment of silence. of shock. they stare at each other in obvious disbelief while you smile cluelessly. you tell them you “just know they’re going to get along!” and they “have so much in common.” they don’t correct you. no, suguru does something better:

“it’s nice to meet you,” he says, perfectly neutral. “i’m geto suguru. i’ve heard a lot about you.”

satoru looks heartbroken. he looks angry. “gojo satoru,” he replies. “can’t say i’ve heard much about you.”

“looking forward to learning more, i hope.”

“something like that.”

you’re giddy with excitement. how couldn’t you be? they don’t even know. they’re playing some secret, private game between just the two of them, unaware that you know. that you’re a witness to it—better yet, that you’re an orchestrator.

they fight over who kisses you first, and when you goad them into kissing each other, satoru bites suguru so hard his lip splits. suguru growls, pulls him by the hair, and tells him that if he can’t mind his teeth like a good boy, suguru will tie him up so he won’t be able to use his hands, either.

somehow, that’s exactly what happens.

satoru bites and scratches as you all undress, a ball of tightly wound feeling he can’t quite get ahold of. when suguru kisses your neck, satoru tugs at his long hair so hard his neck cracks. after that, well, suguru doesn’t let it slide. he sits you in satoru’s lap and watches satoru bite his way across your tits before pulling his arms behind his back and tying him to the headboard. satoru’s legs follow, winding his calves to his thighs. it says something that satoru doesn’t argue.

“you act like you two know each other,” you say breathily, chest sore from where satoru bit your breasts on the wrong side of too hard, skin pinkening and indented with the shallow divots of his teeth.

satoru groans, watching as suguru pulls you away, situating you in his lap with your back to his chest and your legs spread over his thighs, presented to his husband. “never met the guy,” he says lowly, “and if i have, i don’t recognise him.”

“don’t worry,” suguru croons. “we are going to get very familiar.” his hand caresses down your side as he says it, thumbs rubbing strong circles into your skin.

satoru’s eyes stay fixed on your face.

suguru takes you apart with careful efficiency, teasing you until your pussy flutters with each brush of his fingers against your thighs, your navel, just short of the apex of your thighs. when he finally touches you where you want him, his fingers are long and slow and languid as he spreads you open, fingering you with lazy contentment as he sucks wet kisses down your neck and back. he leaves you straining and whining, makes satoru watch until he’s groaning as if he can feel the phantom touch of suguru’s every caress.

suguru bends you forward until you’re on your hands and knees, head just barely brushing against satoru’s knees. satoru parts his legs further, staring down at you with something close to awe. a little scared, a little sad, and very aroused. suguru crowds your back, bending over your figure and biting the shell of your ear as he slowly, slowly sinks into you.

“my good little wife,” suguru says, loud enough for satoru to hear. satoru chokes on his next breath, bordering on a sob. “should’ve married you, sweetheart. i could keep you like this forever.”

“suguru—“ satoru pants.

his skin is red and raw from his shuffling, his dick rock hard and straining against his black boxers. from the way his chest heaves, his eyes burn red-rimmed with tears, you’d think he’s the one being fucked. when he catches you looking, he lurches forward with a low groan, cut off as the rope tightens around his muscular thighs. he murmurs your name on a strangled groan.

a hand moves, grabbing you by the cheeks and pulling you to look over your shoulder, neck craning at an awkward angle. “ignore him, sweetheart.” suguru whispers in your ear. “eyes on me. he’s not the one fucking you so good, is he?”

“i could be,” satoru growls. “i have. fucked her hard and fast, like a whore. she must be, if she’s willing to fuck you.”

it’s mean, unnecessarily targeted at you when the ire is really directed at his husband. suguru’s eyes crinkle on a smile.

“that’s not a very nice thing to say, is it? she’s always so sweet, so good. maybe you just don’t fuck her right.”

“i’ll show you—“

you stop listening. suguru thrusts so hard and sure, just slow enough to have you craving more, just fast enough to satisfy you. stamina has always been his strong suit, and he fucks you into over sensitivity. his thumb moves, sitting heavy and mean over your clit, rubbing firmly against you with every thrust forward. you fall apart warbling his name, hands reaching backwards to scratch at his thighs. then he fucks you to tears, keeping eye contact with satoru, muttering filth in your ear all the while.

“should knock you up, so you have no choice but to marry me.” he says, watching as satoru’s mouth drops on a whine. “keep you happy and full in my bed, so you never have to leave. you’d be the perfect wife, wouldn’t you, sweetheart?”

satoru comes untouched with a breathy whine of your name. your name, as if his husband isn’t right there. as if he hadn’t just watched his husband fuck the girl he’d been playing around with. suguru follows soon after, spilling into you unprotected.

they both stay the night. you share a quiet, almost awkward breakfast, where you play the fool and chatter with your usual enthusiasm. when they leave, it’s at the same time.

you don’t know what happens when they get home. what you do know is that suguru texts you a few days later to come over. satoru asks you out on another date. and, a few weeks later, you fall back into bed with the both of them.

[satoruined]

“hey, can i borrow your phone for a sec?” satoru asks, looping an arm over your shoulder. when you raise an eyebrow, he flashes that blinding smile. “wanna look up that new dessert shop in ginza. the one with the limited-edition parfaits? i’m taking you there the second i’m done kicking sukuna’s ass.”

typical satoru. prioritising his sweet tooth literally minutes away from the greatest battle in jujutsu history. you shake your head, a soft chuckle slipping past your lips as you hand over the device. he taps away furiously for a minute, tongue poking out slightly in concentration, before handing it back with a wink.

-

fast forward to your birthday.

your phone buzzes. it’s a scheduled text from your calendar:

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my favorite person in the entire world !!!! i love you so much. my baby girl (^_^)”

the bright text begins to blur into ugly neon dots as tears hit the glass. you try to wipe the screen, but the moisture keeps coming, smearing his words until you finally just give up. you wish with everything left in you that he was actually here to say it to your face, wearing that stupid, beautiful smile.

but he’s not here.

[simplybakugou]

okay walk with me... what if sta!katsuki got turned into a girl from a villain's quirk... need some fem!katsuki x fem!reader smut

⋆ PAIRING: dad!/divorced!/prohero!bakugou x mom!/divorced! /teacher!reader ⋆ WARNINGS/TAGS: 18+; smut (fem!katsuki; wlw; use of sex toys; fingering; softdom! /top!reader; bakugou’s lowkey-highkey a bottom; come eating) ⋆ WORD COUNT: 3.2K

A/N: i’ve written a decent amount of smut scenes but none of them have gotten me as horny as writing this one oh my god anon you’re a genius for this idea. need to put myself in between y/n and femsuki

NOTE: if you'd like to be tagged in these mini/extra fics, please join the taglist here

Second Time Around Masterlist

You entered your apartment after a long day of teaching. You’d finally become a full-time teacher and this being your first year, it was very different commanding a classroom of children on your own compared to being a student teacher.

But your favorite part of the day was coming home to your shared apartment and winding down with your boyfriend.

You were shocked to see Bakugou’s boots by the door, his hero suit right next to it. He hardly ever came home early.

“Katsuki?” You called out.

“... In here.” Bakugou's muffled voice responded from your bedroom.

“You’re home early,” you said as you approached the bedroom door. “I thought you’d still be patrolling.”

“Had to leave. There was… an incident,” he responded, his voice sounding strained and different than usual. 

You opened the bedroom door, confused to see Bakugou sitting on the bed with a blanket covering his entire body, as if he was hiding from you. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

“No! Don’t look at me!” He yelled out after hearing you take a few steps toward him. 

“Katsuki, I need to see if you’re okay,” you said, dropping your bag and unbuttoning your jacket. 

“I’m fine! It’s nothing!” he deflected.

“Stop acting like a child!”

“I’m not!”

You sighed, slipping your own boots off. Approaching the bed, you sat next to him and watched as he curled into himself more, grabbing the blanket even closer to him.

“Kats, I’ve dealt with children all day, I really don't want to deal with this. If you’re hurt or something’s wrong, tell me. I wanna help you feel better,” you said gently.

You heard Bakugou sigh. “I got hit with a villain’s quirk.”

“Okay… Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Okay, so let me see you,” you said.

“No.”

“Katsuki!”

“Just leave and come back tomorrow,” Bakugou said quickly. 

“So you’re kicking me out of my own apartment?” You retorted in disbelief.

“... Maybe.”

“This is ridiculous,” you huffed, grabbing the blanket. Bakugou was too slow to pull the blanket against you and let out the most feminine yelp you’d ever heard in your life.

You gasped as the blanket fell to the floor. There, right in front of you, was your boyfriend… as a woman. Bakugou’s usual short, spiky ash blonde hair had grown a significant amount, cascading down his shoulders. His usual bulky physique was now toned and more supple, not to mention the fact that he had literal boobs now. And his usual pout was even more defined with full lips, long lashes, and slender eyes… which he had before but it was way more defined.

“Don’t look at me,” Bakugou said, covering his face with his hands.

“So… a villain’s quirk made you turn into a girl?” You clarified.

Bakugou nodded, scowling. “This is so stupid,” he huffed, throwing his hair over his shoulder in annoyance. It was clear he was not accustomed to it being so long.

“What’s wrong with being a girl?” You asked, giving him a knowing look.

“I don’t mean it like that,” Bakugou said. “I mean I wanna go back to normal. Fuck.” 

He touched his body, his movements hesitant as if this hadn’t happened to him. “I feel so… weird.” 

“Yeah, that’s normal I fear,” you said.

Bakugou frowned. “None of my clothes fit me anymore.”

You smiled. “This is so great!” You exclaimed once the initial shock finally wore off.

Bakugou scoffed. “What the hell is so great about this?!”

You cupped his face in your hands. “Because you’re so cute, Kats!”

Bakugou blushed and you bit back a smile watching his face turn pink. You stood up, opening your closet. “Let’s find something for you to wear.”

After perusing through your clothes, you pulled out a simple pink button up blouse and a short, black skirt. “Here,” you said, extending your arms towards him.

“I’m not wearin’ that,” Bakugou said adamantly.

“Yes, you are. Come on!”

Bakugou looked down at his black tee that was drowning his new body and sighed. “Fine,” he grumbled, snatching the clothes from you.

“Wait, let me get some underwear for you, too,” you said, opening a drawer and rummaging through your panties.

Bakugou added, “What about… a bra?”

You looked back at him, down at his chest, and then back up to his face. “Um, your tits are huge, Kats. I don’t think mine will fit.”

Bakugou’s lips curled up into a smirk. “‘Course mine would be huge, look at me. I’m hot. Doesn’t matter what gender I am.”

You rolled your eyes, not surprised to see that his cockiness didn’t leave after his transformation. After you gave him a pair of panties, he changed into his new clothes and you had to hold yourself back from squealing.

You immediately grabbed your phone from your bag, snapping as many photos as you could. “You’re so cute, Kats!”

“Stop it!” He exclaimed, blocking your camera with your hands.

“Can I do your hair and makeup, please?” You pleaded, holding your hands together.

Bakugou glared at you. “You’ve been waiting for some shit like this to happen, huh?”

“... Maybe.”

Bakugou let out a groan. “Fine.”

You grinned, grabbing your makeup bag and pushing him to sit at your vanity. You were quick, pinning his hair back so it would be out of his face and keeping his makeup simple for two reasons: One: he’d probably have no patience for you to do a full face of makeup on him and Two: he didn’t need that much makeup to accentuate his features anyways; he was already handsome as a man and drop dead gorgeous as a woman.

So you filled his brows in, lined his eyes, put a few swipes of mascara and stopped once he started complaining, and painted his lips with a pink lip gloss and called it a day. Just as you were about to announce that you were done, you clapped your hands. “I’ve got to do one more thing.”

Bakugou groaned and you ignored him, grabbing your liquid eyeliner. “I want to do a small wing on your eyes,” you said. You bent over, scrunching your brows together in frustration.

“What’s wrong?” Bakugou asked, understanding you were getting frustrated.

“It’s hard to get a good angle,” you said under your breath.

You sat down on Bakugou’s lap where he sat by your vanity, putting one arm around the back of his neck to steady yourself as you leaned in close until your face was inches from his. As you lined his lids, you noticed he was fidgeting more than usual, slowly watching the back of his neck blush and creep up to his cheeks.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, surveying his nervous demeanor. 

“Nothing,” Bakugou mumbled.

“You’re acting like this is our first time meeting,” you said, putting away your makeup and sitting beside him. “We’ve been dating for a while, Kats.”

“I know that,” Bakugou said, wiping his palms on your skirt. “It… It feels weird with me being a girl and you being so… so close.”

“Why? Think I won’t kiss you when you’re a girl?” You asked.

“I dunno…”

“Well, you’re wrong,” you said, lifting his chin up as he stared back at you with widened eyes. You closed the distance between you, closing your lips over his. 

Bakugou’s lips were soft and smooth thanks to the lip gloss you applied and you were quick to lick away at the product, slipping your tongue into his mouth. You held his face in your hands, moving your lips against his, your chests brushing each other and Bakugou gripped your forearms. 

He moaned into your mouth, his voice sounding more akin to your moans than his usual guttural groans. He pulled away, shocked. “I made that sound?” He asked in disbelief.

Your lips curled up into a smile and you nodded. You tucked a lock of his hair behind his ear. “You’re so cute… I wanna hear more.”

“What?”

You stood up, standing in front of him. “Get on the bed.”

Bakugou looked up at you cautiously. “What’re you gonna do?”

“I’m going to help you… explore your new body,” you said with a sly smirk.

You watched Bakugou get even more flustered and he obliged your command, standing and sitting on your shared bed. 

“Hmm, should your new name be… Femsuki?” You joked, standing to your feet.

Bakugou scowled, hating the suggestion. “Fuck no.”

You laughed, amusing yourself from his disdain. He looked up at you through his mascara-ridden lashes. “... What do I do now?”

“It’s so cute seeing you act like this,” you teased. 

Bakugou clenched his jaw. “Shut up.”

You stood in front of him, pushing his legs apart, watching as your skirt rode up his slender legs. Positioning yourself in between his parted legs, holding the hem of his new shirt between your fingers. 

“Even though I just told you to change into this… let’s take it off,” you said, undoing the buttons yourself.

Your fingers worked fast and as you undid the last button, sliding the blouse off his shoulders, his tits practically jumped out. His nipples were perky and your eyes widened at the sheer size of them. Of course Bakugou, who already had huge pecs, would have huge boobs as a woman. 

“God,” you mumbled, causing Bakugou’s face to burn. You brushed your finger along his reddened cheeks. “You’re blushing a lot, Kats.”

“Stop it,” Bakugou said, embarrassed and pushing your hands away. “It feels so… new.”

“Of course it does,” you said, tossing the blouse aside. 

“I didn’t think you’d wanna have sex or do anything with me,” Bakugou confessed. 

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re still my boyfriend, or well… my partner, I guess.” You leaned forward, grazing your lips against his. “Want me to make you feel good, Katsuki?”

Bakugou swallowed before nodding his head slowly. You grinned, kissing him again and immediately sliding your tongue into his mouth. He moaned against your mouth and you didn’t detach yourself from him even as you pushed him back on the mattress, hovering over his body and straddling him.

He wrapped his arms around your neck and you slid your hands from his hips up to his breasts, kneading them in your hands. He let out a whimper as you rolled his nipples in between your fingers, grinding yourself against him. 

In that moment you understood completely why Bakugou loved to do this with you, climb over you, caress you, go down on you; he loved hearing every sound that came out of your mouth. And the sounds Bakugou was making with his new body, it was driving you insane.

You pulled away, your lips moist and Bakugou let out a whimper from the loss of contact. You held yourself up by planting your palms on either side of his head. Bringing a hand up, you brushed away at his bangs from his forehead. 

“Want more?” You asked, causing Bakugou to nod vigorously, not a second of hesitation. “Okay, let’s try something.”

You crawled off of him and off the bed, opening one of the drawers from your nightstand from your side of the bed. Bakugou widened his eyes at the sight of a purple dildo and a red suctioned rose toy vibrator that you took out of the drawer. 

“You use these?” He asked in disbelief.

“Calm down,” you said, putting both of the toys on the bed and closing the drawer. “It’s only when you’re gone on missions… and when I miss you.”

Bakugou smirked, leaning forward as he grabbed the dildo. “You use ‘em every time I’m gone?”

You nodded, taking the dildo from his hands. “Lean against the headboard,” you commanded. 

Another thing you loved was how obedient he was and you watched amusingly as he crossed the bed, tossing your pillows aside and leaned against the wooden headboard. You crawled back onto the bed, grabbing him by the back of the neck and pulling him up onto his knees towards you as you kissed him.

He opened his mouth instinctively for you and he undid your top, tossing the fabric to the floor. Your hands snaked down, pushing his skirt up and hooking your fingers into the waistband of his panties.

You pushed him back so he was sitting once again, making it easier to slide the panties right off his legs. His arousal collecting between his legs glistened under the lights. “Wow, you’re so wet,” you teased. 

“Shut up,” Bakugou muttered, embarrassed. He looked back up at you, his eyes flaring. “Do something about it.”

You bit back a smile as you ordered him to move a bit forward, sliding and positioning yourself right behind him. His back pressed against your chest and he felt the fabric of your bra against his back. 

You bent Bakugou’s knees up, spreading his legs as you swiftly grabbed the vibrator, turned it on and pressed it to his clit.

Bakugou gasped, clutching your wrist instinctively. “Holy shit–”

You smiled, fondling his breast in your other hand as his nails dug into your wrist, his other hand gripping the bed sheets beneath him. He moved his hips along the vibrations, moaning as he leaned his head into your shoulder. 

“Oh, fuck– It feels– It feels so fuckin’ good,” Bakugou whimpered.

You kissed his cheek. “You like it?” Bakugou answered with a gasp. “Let’s try something else.”

Bakugou let out a whining sound when you removed the vibrator from his pussy, looking over his shoulder and back at you with heartbreak in his eyes. You kissed him softly. “Don’t worry, sweetie, I’ll let you come. I just wanna try some things first.”

Bakugou swallowed as you set aside the vibrator, now covered in his slick. You brought your arm down, your fingers gliding against his folds. “I’m gonna put a finger in. Tell me if it’s too much.”

Bakugou bit his lip and nodded, turning back around and leaning back into you again. You slowly and carefully slid your middle finger into his hole and he let out a short gasp. “How’s that?”

“G-Good,” Bakugou sputtered. 

You slid your ring finger in him and his mouth fell open from the stretch. Without any warning you began to rock your fingers inside him and he clutched the sheets in his fists. “Holy fuck,” he choked.

God, he was so adorable and you wanted to hear more of him, hear him get louder and beg for more as you grabbed the vibrator, turning it back on and holding it against his clit. 

“Fuck–! Y/N–!” He whined as you undulated your fingers faster, pressing the vibrator harder against his clit. His breathing quickened, his toes curling as he writhed against you. “Shit– I can’t– I think I’m gonna–”

His eyes rolled as his legs shook, coming all over your fingers. Bakugou had experienced his first female orgasm. And he was completely worn out afterwards as well, panting as his chest rose and fell.

“Holy shit,” he said in awe as you pulled your fingers out. “That’s how– it feels for you–?” He asked in between breaths. 

You nodded, setting aside the vibrator. “Every time you finger me or eat me out, that’s how I feel.”

“Fuck, that’s amazing,” Bakugou said breathlessly.

You brought your fingers up to his lips and he glanced at you. “Wanna see how you taste?” You asked, watching as he looked at your glistening fingers.

He parted his lips, his tongue slithering over your fingers as he sucked his own come, savoring the taste.

You pulled your fingers out of his mouth, tilting his chin up so he looked at you. “And the best part? I can make you come so many times… we can do this for hours.”

“What?” Bakugou said in disbelief.

“I’m not done with you yet, Kats,” you said with a sly grin.

“Wait– Baby, I need a sec–”

You ignored him, pulling him so his back pressed against your chest again. Bakugou watched your every movement, his breathing quickening as you picked up the dildo, holding it in between his legs.

You rubbed the head of the silicone dildo against Bakugou’s folds, collecting his come. He bit his lip, feeling the head rub against his still throbbing clit. But you didn’t put it in yet, wanting to tease him. And he knew that. 

“I’m liking this side of you, Katsuki,” you teased in his ear.

He whipped his head to look back at you, his own locks hitting him in the face. “Stop teasin’ me and fuckin’ put it in–”

Bakugou choked on his words as you slowly slid the dildo inside him, stretching his new pussy out until the base of the dildo was flat against your palm. He sucked in every inch of it.

“Oh my god,” Bakugou gasped, throwing his head back.

You kissed his head. “Are you okay? Does it hurt?”

Bakugou shook his head. “No, fuck– It’s so b-big–”

You smirked, kissing his cheek and then his neck. “This is how it feels when you’re cock’s inside me,” you cooed in his ear and he whimpered. “So big and stretching me like you’re gonna split me open.”

You held the base of the dildo again. “I’m gonna start moving, okay?”

Bakugou nodded slowly and his toes curled immediately as you pulled the dildo out and slid it back inside him. You continued your pace, sliding in and out as his pussy squelched along with every movement. 

Bakugou rocked his hips into the dildo, holding your wrist for stability as he moaned and cried, tears sliding down his face as you fucked him. 

You turned his head to make him face you with your free hand, taking in his fucked out expression. “Does it feel good?”

“Yes, fuck, it feels so good,” Bakugou cried and you kissed him, swallowing his moans and pants.

“You’re such a good girl, aren’t you, Kats?” You purred into his mouth. “Such a good girl for me.”

“Yes, fuck, yes–” He gasped as you increased your speed, fucking him even faster and harder, making sure to press the dildo into him every time you fucked him.

“Are you gonna come again?” You asked, smirking while seeing his legs start to shake once more. 

“Yes, baby, don’t stop please,” he begged, more tears streaming down his face. 

“I won’t, baby. Come, I’ve got you,” you whispered, fucking him with so much intensity, his toes curled and he screamed, throwing his head back with a cry.

He raised his legs as he came again and you fucked him through his orgasm. He dropped his legs back onto the mattress as he heaved, slowly coming down from his high.

You chuckled, pulling the dildo out and causing him to let out a small yelp. “How was that?”

Bakugou glanced over to you, his pink lips curling up into a smile. “Fuckin’ amazing…”

You smiled, kissing him, much softer and more earnest this time. He hummed against your lips and you moved from behind him, pushing him so his back hit the mattress. He looked up at you, confused. 

You straddled him, undoing your bra and tossing it to the floor. “We’re not done yet,” you announced.

“What–”

“I got two orgasms out of you but I’ve still got my clothes on,” you stated, unbuttoning your pants. 

Bakugou gasped as you kissed him, removing the rest of your clothes and rocking into his body, swallowing every single sound that escaped those pink lips for the rest of the night.

[pillsatoru]

you’re obsessed with gojo’s beauty marks — even the ones on his dick.

one thing you loved about gojo was the multiple beauty marks he had all around his body. you first noticed them when you went out to the arcade together. having just joined jujutsu tech, principal yaga encouraged you to go out with the other students. you asked satoru, the boy you crushed on the second you were introduced to each other.

if he wanted to hang out after seeing that no one else was available. your heart leaped when he accepted almost immediately.

“i haven’t gone to the fair in forever!” he beamed, smile stretched across his pretty face. “cmon, i’ll play all those basketball tossing games and win you whatever you want.”

when you both walked side to side with several stuffed animals, joking about the bumper cars and how he was a terrible driver, you saw the mole right under his eye. your eyes soon fell down to the one on his right cheek, then one on his plump lips. ever since then, you’ve made it your goal to try and find each one. 

you invited him over to the pool on a scorching hot day, feeling your breath hitch when he took off his shirt to jump in. “you not gonna jump in?” he asked, already prepping himself for a dive. but you were too mesmerized to answer back.

water splashed everywhere when his body fell into the pool, landing on you as well. “satoru!!” you called out, wiping your face with you hands in slight annoyance. he laughed at your reaction, pearly whites shining underneath the sun. there were more beauty marks on his chest, and when he turned around, his back was practically littered with them.

“sorry princess, had to get you wet somehow, right?”

your face burned. in what way did he mean that?

he slid onto the floor next to you, kicking his feet in the water. “you look good in that bikini.” he coo’ed.

“thank you..” you squeaked, forcing yourself to look away. it was quiet for a bit until a wave of confidence washed over you. your hand hesitantly reached out to touch the dots on his arm. satoru looked down at you, confused as to what was happening.

“what’s this, hm?”

“i really like your beauty marks..” you mumbled, tracing each one that traveled down his arm. “yeah? i’ve got some on my ass too.” satoru smiled before you playfully slapped him. “i’m kidding, mostly.”

his hand tugged down his swim shorts just a bit to reveal one on his lower waist, right on that delicious v line. your finger brushed against it, making his breath hitch. “what do you mean mostly?” 

“i mean they’re not on my ass.. but y’know.” 

yeah, you definitely knew. that’s why you both were inside in the living room, deep throating your best friend after he had shown you the beauty mark on his tip. “fuckkk..” satoru threw his head back, opening his eyes to watch the way you bobbed yours up and down. “that’s it, suck harder baby.”

you don’t know how it never came to you that he might’ve had some on his dick as well. but you were glad you got to see them either way. your toes were curled, preventing yourself from gagging excessively. not like it did much when he was packing an 8 inch cock that could kill someone.

your whimpers sent vibrations through him, making him arch on the couch. “gonna cum..” he warned, but your eyes were fixated on all the pretty marks on his body. he was like the sky decorated in stars and you were just a stargazer.

“been wanting ya for months.. think i haven’t seen ya staring at me like im a piece of meat? huh?” he slapped your cheek playfully, dropping the hand to squeeze your throat. “got a beauty mark kink or something sweet girl?” you whimpered, eyes shutting close when his warm seed spilled into your mouth. “take every last drop.”

seeing that you obeyed, he gently pulled away. a string of a mixture of saliva and cum connected you to his tip, making you want more.

“wanna count them all now?”

[ttakdoll]

SATORU GOJO :: fratjo and his curated instagram profile!

(18+) :: content – frat!gojo x fem!reader, college au, smut, switch!gojo, p in v, riding, pussydrunk gojo

frat!gojo is one of those guys with a heavily curated instagram profile.

it’s not that it’s overly nonchalant, or so quiet that it looks painfully intentional, but so effortlessly busy while maintaining an air of carelessness that he makes it look like a modern day art form.

it’s all witty captions (“siri, set an alarm for those sleeping on me”, who even thinks of that?), vaguely motion-blurred pictures of neon lights and solo cups, polo clubs and martinis, late nights at the frat house, and highlights of well-shot travel pictures and selfies. 

it just seems like he always knows exactly what kind of picture to take in what setting, exactly what makes him look good in front of the many people (many.) that are hungry to see what’s going on in satoru’s life. it doesn’t even seem like he’s actively trying to show off how cool and interesting and luxurious his life is – he just fucking does it.

the cherry on top? an absolutely lethal follower-to-following ratio. satoru doesn’t even follow back half of the thousands of followers he’s got.

in short: he’s got it down to a science. you’d think you knew exactly who he was simply based on the curation of his profile.

at least, that’s what you think when your sorority friends first show you his account.

you – well, you’re the type of person who’s seen it all before. 

you think you’ve got it down to a science too, because you’ve always been able to accurately predict exactly who someone is based on what their social media looks like. and the minute your friends show you satoru gojo’s instagram, you don’t know whether you should laugh, scoff, or clutch your pearls tightly.

“no. he’s definitely an asshole,” you clock immediately, shaking your head. “if I tell you guys I’m bored, at least give me someone nice.” “he’s nice!”

“I mean, someone who isn’t the definition of ‘lights on, nobody’s home’, maybe?”

your friends look at each other like they’d expected the less-than-positive reaction, but they keep pushing anyways. “just try talking to him. if you’re bored, gojo’s the person to go to. Look at his profile: he’s rich as fuck. fine as fuck. good in pictures. he passes his classes–”

you groan. “yes, because that makes him the epitome of academic excellence–”

“–just fucking text him already!”

against your better judgment, you click on that well-curated profile, and you text.

and he texts back – quickly, you might add, for someone that chronically looks like he ghosts people simply because he doesn’t have time for all of them. 

it's not just that. the thing is, you and satoru keep texting – for weeks on end.

it’s not even you holding the conversations together, but him. satoru does the most; he sends you pictures of him with his brothers, him in his car, him walking to classes you didn’t think he attended.

you wanted to stop replying. you want to doubt him, call him a slut, find him annoying. but he’s really not.

you: gojo it’s getting late yk

gojo: but i wanna keep talking to you :((

you almost scoff.

you: how many girls did u JUST text that to be honest

it’s mostly a joke, partially your own morbid curiosity kicking into action. it’s late on a friday night, you’re trying to find any reason not to be intentionally texting someone who probably doesn’t give half of a shit about you, and amidst the darkness of your own bedroom, you’re fucking entertaining this. satoru’s probably off convincing some other girl she’s the only one, calling her up, coercing her into letting him come over at this hour–

gojo: [1 attachment] it’s just you beautiful

he sends a screenshot of his recent fucking DMs.

and he’s not lying – it’s just you (pinned?), a couple of his frat brothers’ dump accounts, absolutely nothing incriminating that could justify your premature judgments about satoru.

suddenly, you’re in it now; your lip is caught between your teeth, trying to process this revelation, and he’s still fucking typing. like he doesn’t care if it looks desperate. maybe he just thinks he’s incapable of looking desperate?

gojo: soo will you keep talking to me now i miss you its been 30 secs

you: ur so stupid fine

okay. maybe satoru isn’t anything like his profile at all.

one day, he finally asks you to come over. it’s not even in a weird, frat fuck, booty call way either; you get home from a pretty late exam, and you somehow get into texting satoru about how you’re pissed, you think you flunked, and you hadn’t eaten anything in hours.

before you can even think about setting foot in your building elevator, he’s sending you a picture of a shit ton of sushi (he remembered you saying you liked it?), luring you into his place like a mouse trap, and threatening to make you feel better with free food and bad movies.

it’s irritating how saying no didn’t even cross your mind for a second.

even if there was a 70% chance satoru only wanted to fuck, you kind of didn’t even mind that.

and you learn that satoru is 100%, most definitely not an asshole.

 he doesn’t even actually look that much like what you’d see on his profile – other than being absolutely delicious-looking, because of course that doesn’t change. 

he’s tall, but half of all the bicep and muscle he loves to show off on his story highlights is hidden behind a faded digimon hoodie. satoru’s got a pair of black, thick-framed glasses perched on top of his head, pushing his snow-white bangs back, leaving a few strands to rest over his forehead.

he even smiles sweet, out of the corners of his lips, all “let’s stay in my room” and “you got any movies you like? I have all of them!”, drawing you in without even knowing it.

 your heart is in your throat when he leads you to his bedroom, where he’s laid sushi and snacks out as if eating was the first thing on your mind.

you have two thoughts: first, that he’s nothing like the fuckboy he seems he is on his instagram, and second, coming over to his house, just him and you, may be the best idea you’ve ever had in your life.

so you think it takes way too long, because satoru’s way too nice.

in fact, it takes you shuffling close into his side on the bed and tugging at his hoodie string with your fingertip midway through detective pikachu for him to even notice you wanted something.

“hm?” satoru hums, his arm absentmindedly wrapping over your shoulders in a motion that makes your skin warm. “yeah? is it too cold, or–”

oh my god. you bite the inside of your cheek. “maybe you wanna keep me warm?”

“oh, for sure, i’ll go get another blanket–”

“gojo.”

and satoru dares move to get up. “i’ll be quick, don’t worry–”

“satoru.” and you’re tugging him back down, giving him half-lidded eyes, gazing beneath your eyelashes like he’s one more word away from being eaten alive. 

and finally, finally, you see his eyebrows raise like something’s clicking into place, and there’s a faint grin starting to tug at the corners of his lips. maybe he is kind of an asshole – but you barely get to berate him before he’s clicking his tongue and tugging you into his lap.

⭑.ᐟ

“fuck, beautiful–”

you don’t even realize just how little satoru matches his instagram profile until he’s the one beneath you, hands roaming your waist, trailing up to pinch desperately at your hardened nipples, all while you press your hands to his bare chest and ride his huge cock.

it’s hard to remember how you ended up here, his back against his own mattress, glasses hitting his own headboard, with your legs hooked over each side of his hips, watching the frat boy’s face contort in absolute pleasure.

all you know is that every sound that leaves his lips, every flutter of his lashes over those blue fucking eyes – heat pools between your legs. it doesn’t help that satoru’s so big, each drop back down on his dick making you see stars behind your eyelids.

“s–shit,” you gasp out wantonly, a loud squelch resounding between you as your pussy clenched around him. he’s just so deep, stretching out your needy cunt so perfectly with each roll of your hips. “so fuck– fucking big, satoru–”

he hisses. “baby, you’re – oh my god – you’re killing me here. c’mon, let me take care of you–”

it’s cute how easy it is to get him, of all people, to shut the fuck up.

all it takes is a shaky scoff from your parted lips, as you lift your hips all the way up, sliding your wet entrance over his tip for a second, just to relish in the way the white-haired man below you practically whines, aching for the warmth of your pussy around him. and then you drop down fully, letting out a broken little cry as his cock splits you open again, the stretch achingly delicious.

“haah–” satoru sounds so pathetic like this, fingertips clutching at the skin of your waist tight like he needed to bounce you on his dick until you were sobbing in his hold. “come on, please, just– just let me fuck you properly, pretty.”

“mmh,” you breathe out airily as you grind down onto his cock, eyes rolling back. “but ‘s so good.”

“could make it even b–better,” satoru groans. “shit. shit, do that again,”

you almost grin, albeit cockdrunk and absolutely dripping on him, at the little whimper that escapes his lips when your fingernails claw into his chest, timed perfectly with a greedy little roll of your hips, shifting him deeper into the warmth of your cunt.

you lean forward, tits pressing against his skin as you press your lips to his. and satoru takes this opportunity as his only avenue of control — his tongue breaches your mouth, a dazed little whine escaping your lips in response, shoving the muscle as far down your mouth as it would go. as if taunting you.

but he’s fucking gone, at the end of the day, and all it takes to have his mouth dropping open is for you to slam that ass back down like your life depended on it.

“don’t be a — ah! — an asshole, satoru,” you murmur into his skin, devastating, manicured fingertips prying his hand off your waist. “be good.”

“f—fuck,” he sputters out amidst the wet plap! plap! plap! of your ass against his pelvis. “fuck, ‘re the asshole here, pretty—”

your teeth sink into his plush bottom lip, and the low, broken sound that escapes his mouth is almost enough to have you creaming around his dick right then and there. “you’re so — ngh — ungrateful. ‘m literally bouncing on your dick—”

“haah—” both of your words are messy, making it out through strings of saliva against each other’s lips, resounding across the space of satoru’s bedroom. “baby…”

“haven’t even said please.” you mumble, and the white-haired man keens at how easily you can pretend to be so innocent, voice soft and wrecked and sweet like you don’t even realize what you’re doing. “just say please for me, satoru.”

you swear you see something hot flash in those blue eyes.

he doesn’t say anything. 

“satoru,” and there’s no way he can say no to that voice. not like that. not when your voice is so candied, so sweet, so intentional in trying to get him to beg to fuck you. you press a soft kiss to the corner of his lips, and he hisses like you’ve just bitten bruises into his shoulder. “play nice for me, okay?”

“shit, baby…”

“pleaaase. say it.”

he tries rolling his hips into you, chasing the sweet warmth of the pussy you’re denying to let him fuck. all for not much, considering you slam his hips back down and leave him whimpering beneath your touch. so adorable. so desperate, it was almost comical, considering how satoru looked, how he presented himself.

so much for the fuckboy with an allegedly long list of girls in his DMs.

because—

“please!” satoru whines out, arms flexing by your thighs, a large hand meeting your waist, fingertips gripping loosely. “fuck, please, please let me fuck you properly, you’re so tight, so good–”

he’s babbling. about your pussy. satoru’s punctuating each little plea with a pathetic gasp ripped from his throat.

the man behind the curated ig that featured countless hookups, countless parties, and he’s utterly pussydrunk as you ride him to insanity.

“yeah?” you whisper against his mouth.

“haah— yeah, fuck, yes. been thinking about it — shit! — ever since you texted me.” satoru gasps. 

you find it in yourself amidst the haziness to glance down at his face, the way his lips are slicked with your drool, the way his eyes are half-lidded behind white eyelashes, so utterly destroyed. the absolute picture of intoxication, all by the hand of your cunt lewdly squelching around his length.

he’s not what he seems at all.

because the white-haired man would have never looked like he begged this pretty beneath someone like you.

and you’re just as far gone, because you kiss him hard after the admission, legs shaking as you slam your hips up and down like you wanted his tip bruising hearts into your cervix. it doesn’t take much — you’re biting at those plush lips, letting his tongue saunter down your throat, and he’s whining, stuttering into your lips as his dick twitches inside of you, pumping you full of his cum.

“baby, h-hah — shit,” satoru breathes out. “so— it’s so—”

it’s filthy, between the gasps from his throat, warm liquid seeping out of your hole and coating your pussy lips, dripping down your asscheeks, staining his sheets. you’re not exactly any better, whimpering at the sticky feeling of his cum deep inside of you, your own wetness soaking his entire cock in a pretty sheen. 

satoru’s spent for a moment, and so are you — heavy breaths are exchanged between kiss-bitten lips, his hands gripping your waist tight like you’re his only lifeline. like you’ll disappear if he doesn’t bruise your skin.

the afterglow lasts about five seconds longer. because you realize just how fucked you are when you feel the frat boy grin against the corners of your lips, long fingers moving down, down to grasp your plush thighs.

“satoru,” you mumble, somewhere between a warning and a request.

“shh,” his voice is wrecked. “said please for you, baby. promised i’d get to fuck you properly.”

“satoru—”

he presses down on the bulge where his cock is buried deep inside you, earning a soft little moan from your mouth.

and that voice makes you shudder. “you be good for me now.”

⭑.ᐟ

frat!gojo's profile is a heavily curated one. 

he’s got it down to a science.

so no one realizes anything is out of place — even when he posts a carefully-shot picture of you, passed out on his bare chest, hair splayed out to obscure your face. it’s provocative enough for everyone to know exactly what he did, but barely enough for anyone to question its place in the life he showed off online.

barely enough for anyone except you, who sees that story, dressed in an oversized t-shirt, while satoru’s waking you up with gentle pecks over your face.

yeah. he’s not what anyone thinks.

@ ttakdoll, 2026

kind of just wanted this one out of my hair,, i'll do smth better soon!