gojo's dick is huge and he loves watching you squirm on it, obsessed even. his smile huge as he watches you cum around him for the sixth time—he's been counting—your sweet cunt clenching down on him.
he's barely even had to move, simply feeding you more and more of his cock inch by delicious inch. you're just such a sensitive little thing, creaming around him like you're getting paid for it and at this point he feels like he owes you something for this show you're giving him.
you're shedding honest to god tears, overwhelmed and every nerve ending on fire, "please– hnn– just– hah–"
"just what, sweetheart?" he doesn't have it in him to tear his gaze away from your stuffed cunt.
pussy bulging around his hard dick, hole fluttering desperately. he can tell you're somewhere between coming down and working up to another orgasm.
"fuck me!– hah– please, just–" struggling to wiggle your hips up onto him, the position and his size making it far too difficult. especially in your state.
his eyes flick to yours, faux sympathy in his tone, "this is real cute, my little pudding but i gotta work you open properly." reaching his thumb up to swipe at the tears on your cheek, "you're so delicate, i don't wanna hurt you."
"you– hng– you're just too– ah!– biiig– hnn–" his dick rubs up against every one of your sweet spots without him even having to try, it's not fair.
gojo's smile grows at that and so does his cock, much to your shock. the sudden blood rushing to his already huge dick throwing you for a loop. his hips jut forward a tiny bit more at the same time and you're coating his length in more fresh cum, tummy flipping with your orgasm.
"you're doing great, pretty," he hums, "sucking me in so hot, bet i'll get you to squirt before this is over."
"you're such a mess," you whine at him.
"no no," he corrects, "you're the mess, creaming all over my dick, drooling on it even." and when your cunt flutters around him again he's losing his mind, teeth biting into his lower lip to stifle the whimper. "you like when i talk to you, huh?"
biting back, "noo– hnn– i prefer– fuck– i prefer when you're quiet."
"your sweet lil pussy disagrees with that," he grins, eyes a little unhinged. "watch this."
you don't get a moment to figure out what you're waiting for, gojo's immediately slamming into you all in one go. tip kissing your womb, his pelvis grinding into your clit. he gets the reaction he wanted, your mouth dropping as you squirt for him.
shivering through your eighth orgasm, brain melted in your skull. panting and whining as your cunt grips his cock, pulsing hot and desperate on him.
he giggles at you, "told you i'd make you squirt."
cw: MDNI, sukuna x f!reader, sukuna shows you his dıck piercings, he has a little crush on reader and is oddly respectful
Sukuna was widely known for two things:
1. Being an asshole.
2. Having multiple piercings on his dick.
And despite his shitty attitude, women still flocked to him in hopes of at least getting a peek.
You’re no better than any of them. The thought of what his dick could possibly look like has always lingered in the back of your head in the years that you’ve known him. Going out of your way to scratch that little itch you have is something you wouldn’t dare to do though.
It’s not like he was a friend or anything. Just an acquaintance, which was close to enough to know that if that side quest ever went wrong, there was no avoiding him. Yeah, you may not talk much at parties or random get togethers, but his presence alone was too demanding to ignore.
And on the off chance’s that you do talk, he is suffocating. It’s not even because of the way he acts. Surprisingly enough, you’ve never actually been on the receiving end of his temper when it’s soiled. It’s just his presence— the weight of his stare, the bass of his voice, the way he demands space.
Sukuna makes you nervous, and you’re pretty sure he knows that too. You wouldn’t say you were a timid person by any means. You could hold your own, had a decent amount of confidence, but it was never enough to handle him for longer than small increments of time.
He knows that too.
It’s why he keeps his distance. Look, he’s not a monster, and you’ve never done anything to bother him. He knows what he’s like, and if he’s too much for you, keeping his distance isn’t something he minds doing.
Sukuna’s not perfect though. He’ll come up and bug you after he gets a couple of drinks in him. His version of it. Which is, in a slightly lame way, just talking. Maybe a little flirting— saying that you smell nice, or that he likes whatever the fuck you did with your hair, yada yada. Sometimes you fold, sometimes you don’t. It’s different every time, he thinks of it as a little game he likes to play once in a while.
On this particular night, you had a little more to drink than what you usually had, and lucky for him, you didn’t actually crumble 5 minutes into talking about something as mundane as your job.
He wasn’t following you around and marking his territory on you like some dog, but he can admit that there were a few times he lingered around you. Not that you noticed, it was one of the very few times you let loose, so therefore you weren’t overly aware of your surroundings.
It wasn’t until everybody left when things got interesting though. You both just so happened to be spending the night at a shared friend’s house. Separate sleeping arrangements, of course. But you two were the last ones awake, in the basement, sitting and talking on the couch he was planning to sleep on.
It started with him asking about your dating life, if you had anybody you were seeing or not. You two were still drinking. Not too much, but enough for the conversation to inevitability turn suggestive.
Until he straight up told you that he enjoyed putting women in headlocks and fucking them until they cried. It was a piece of information that you definitely didn't mind being told, but it was only a matter of time before it'd circle back to you.
"Alright, what about you?"
“I don’t know,” you let out an awkward laugh, clearly flustered from the sudden pressure he put on you.
He just smiles, eyes drifting down to your lips. “I’m just asking what you like— nothing to be shy about,” he hums.
You take a moment to think about it, deciding for once to push past the shyness you tend to feel around him. "Alright, fine."
And without hesitation
“What about dick piercings?”
“I don’t— huh?” Your brain short circuits, already telling yourself that this can't be happening. It’s too good to be true. “I’ve never been with anyone that’s had one before, but I guess they’re nice.”
You really don't know why you say you guess. They are nice.
Your answer makes Sukuna look at you as if you’ve experienced nothing but back-to-back tragedies in your life, all because you've never been with someone pierced before.
“Yeah— feels good, too.” His response of course does not match his face or his tone, it sounds more like he’s pitching a sale. “Especially when you have a few of them stacked over each other like mine.”
Jesus fucking Christ.
“That’s—“ your throat grows dry at the thought, “did it hurt?”
“Nah, felt more like a pinch.”
“And there’s… how many?”
“Five,” he says the number like it carries weight and meaning, and at this point, it does. “One right under the tip and the rest is a Jacob’s ladder.”
You try to imagine it and end up looking confused as you open your mouth to say something, only to close it due to the words dying in your throat.
It happens 3 times before he eventually cuts in again.
“Wanna see it?”
What kind of a question is that? Of course you wanna fucking see it. Why wouldn’t you? You still hold on to what little respect you have left though.
“That wouldn’t be weird or anything?”
“Maybe, but it was me who brought it up. Can’t blame you for wanting to see.”
He’s full of shit and knows exactly what he’s doing. But you go along with it because this is something you've thought about for years. Less than a minute later, he’s unbuckling his belt and zipping his pants down.
There’s a moment of (fake) reluctance when he palms his boxers and remembers that it’s not just the piercings you’re going to see. It’s also his cock, which, in his honest and humble opinion, is a work of fucking art. Especially when it’s hard, like right now. He almost feels like he has to warn you, but decides not to and instead asks if you're ready.
You weren’t sure. You’ve been internally screaming this entire time though, and knew you’d explode if you didn’t see it already, so you gave him a nod.
Then your jaw nearly drops as he pulls his boxers down low enough for his entire cock to spring out. Spring’s not even the right word to use, it was too heavy for that, and if anything, just settled right on his stomach.
It was long and thick, a couple prominent veins running down his shaft. Big, dark pink tip that had some precum dripping from it. And then the five piercings.
Holy shit
It didn’t help that his hand was loosely wrapped around the base, lids growing heavier the longer you stare.
“Oh my god?”
“Yeah,” he rasps.
“You’re fucking huge.”
“I know.”
You don’t really care that much about the piercings despite them being the only reason why he has his dick out right now, but he is not complaining. By all means, stare at it. Please.
Drool, even.
He huffs out a laugh as he sees a little bit of it collect at the corner of your mouth, and swipes it off with his thumb before raising it to his mouth and licking it clean.
“Sorry,” you say without an inch of shame.
“You’re good,” he casually says, not trying to ruin the romantic moment you’re currently having with his dick. “Probably from one of the drinks you had earlier.”
“Mhm.” Neither of you believe that, but just go along with it. “Do the piercings ever get caught in your boxers?”
“Never,” he shakes his head. “They’re smooth against everything. . . You can touch them. If you want.”
Your hand’s already reaching out before that sentence is even finished, and his abs involuntarily flex at the feeling of your fingertips brushing over the underside of his shaft.
You say nothing, because you can’t think of anything respectful to say, and just continue to trace up until you get to his tip.
He feels you pull back and takes a good guess at why you did as he watches you rub your fingers together.
“Shit, sorry— fuck, you’re kidding me,” he suddenly groans out.
You licked precum off your fingers, but didn’t realize it until after.
Your eyes widen in panic. “Oh my god— that was so weird, I’m sorry.”
“No, that was— it wasn’t weird,” he tries to put a response together, but he’s honestly just as shocked as you. “You're fuckin’ nasty— did it taste good?”
You can’t even believe you’re saying this right now, but, “Honestly, yeah.”
“Jesus,” he lets out a low laugh, throwing his head back for a moment to take a deep breath, which turns into a deep, drawn-out hum when he feels you wrap your hand around his base. “You’re fuckin’ killin me right now.”
“I know, I’m sorry,” you whisper at first. “We should just—“
He opens one eye. “Fuck?”
“Yeah.”
notes: dick piercing kuna deserved his own spot in my master list so i freshened this up from side character reader 🫶🏻
sneak peek: (frat!gojo x mean!reader) cw: age gaps (gojo's 20-21, readers late twenties), readers embarassed to be seen with him LMAO.
“Kay’. We’re done here, you can leave now.”
The first time Satoru heard those words come out of your mouth, he was distraught. How dare you throw him out after the backshots he had given you?! He made you cum so hard you cried! Then you just throw him out of your apartment like some useless whore– like he was nothing but a fucking slut! He had more to offer than just his dick, he’ll have you know.
Now he’s a little less emotional and more…
“You sure? Maybe I can stay a bit longer and help you with chores… or something.”
You look around your room, that is spotless aside from his t-shirt and jeans on the floor. “Sure. Why don’t you start by picking up your clothes, putting them on, and then leaving.”
“Oh, come on,” he throws his head back and groans rather childishly. “That’s a little rude, no?”
“So was the way you were talking to your little girlfriend on the phone earlier,” you hop off the bed, throwing a big t-shirt on. Satoru finds himself getting oddly jealous looking at it, wondering if it was actually yours or if it belonged to an ex.
“She’s not my girlfriend,” he tries to reassure you, though you didn’t seem too concerned over it in general.
He also tried to tell you that he hasn’t slept with anyone since he started sleeping with you, but you didn’t seem to care much about that either. The entire time you were just throwing his clothes at him while he absentmindedly got dressed. He’s still yapping after he’s up and fully clothed, so you grab him by the wrist and start walking towards the door.
“And you wouldn’t believe all the shit the guys have given me for turning girls down. One of them started calling me Celibate Satoru, can you believe that?”
“I sure can.” You open the door, walk around him and start pushing him out.
“They don’t even know,” he huffs out a laugh, trying to cope with the fact that he’s not allowed to tell anybody about you two. Satoru turns around when he’s fully out of the door to reveal the delusional grin on his face. “So same time next week?”
“Yup! Bye Gojo.”
“I thought I told you to call me Sa–”
He didn’t get to finish that sentence. You shut the door in his face.
hockey captain! toji is a liability to himself and everyone who steps onto the ice. the type of player who lives for the thrill of shouldering opponents against frosted glass and hearing the cheers that ring out from the stands.
he’s brutal, using his full weight to take players down for fun, throwing fists elbows at the first sound of backtalk from the other team. it’s a miracle he still has the athletic scholarship he entered college with, all things considered.
and the crowd loves it. every millisecond of carnage is already making it’s rounds online by the 20 minute mark. local headlines singing his praises, edits already being made, hundreds of fans live tweeting with the hashtag fushiguro. you’re starting to think some of the guys in the nhl don’t even get this much attention.
but when the final buzzer sounds and he’s finally off the ice? you’d be surprised at how fast all that vigor gets channeled into something else.
“you see that goal?” he shouts, stepping off of the ice to pull you into a bone crushing hug in front of the stands. the crowd goes wild, cheering the both of you on as he takes off his helmet to press a kiss to your temple.
“god, toji. you’re bleeding.” you huff, dabbing at the drying trickle of red leaking from his nose. “told you no more headbutting.”
he smiles, still high on adrenaline and not at all registering what you’re saying. he leans in to bury his face in your neck, drawing a collective “aww” from the fans eagerly watching the two of you.
he does this every game, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on at least a little. angling his head down just enough to make it look like he’s embracing you, and not mouthing at your neck like a freak.
“fuck, you’re gorgeous.” he rasps quietly. the way he says it sounds so strained. like he’s fighting to keep his bravado up and not lose it in front of all the cameras on you two. you feel his tongue flit out shyly against your skin, then again, harder this time.
you pat his back shyly, knees wobbling the slightest bit as he sucks on a sensitive spot right by your clavicle. he presses his hips against you quick enough where no one will notice, groaning at the stimulation even through the guard he's wearing.
“you’re gonna leave a mark.” you grumble, turning to lead him through the exit and into the athlete's hall before he starts stripping down in front of the fans.
you can’t help but wonder what everyone in the arena would think if they knew their star player got hard in his jock cup every time he scored a goal. or how his teammates would feel knowing their captain’s favorite post-game celebration is getting sucked off in a supply closet with his hand fisted in your hair.
“you’re why i play, y’know that?” toji growls, shedding his lower half of his gear before easing himself out of his bottoms and into your awaiting mouth. his helmet and skates lie dormant in the corner, skin burning hit despite the hour he just spent on the ice.
you hum around his length as soon as he hits your tongue, craning your head back to adjust to the size of him.
toji babbles praises for you like a songbird. he’s more pliable when he gets like this, letting you touch him however you see fit as long as it gets you both off somehow.
“fuck, wait till i sign that nhl contract.” he sighs, fingers tightening with every new inch that sinks between your lips. “could buy you whatever you want on that dime.” toji promises. “could fuck you in a different city every week.”
his enthusiasm would almost be cute if he wasn’t 7 inches deep in your mouth. you hollow your cheeks just to hear him groan, thighs clenching at the way his voice reverberates in his chest. you stand when he taps your head with his fingers, accepting the shaky hand he offers to pull you up.
your lips meet almost immediately, and the contact alone is enough to make his dick jump. toji palm your breasts over the fabric of your top, shucking the fabric up and off of your body before letting it fall to the floor.
your bra is next to go as he turns you toward the wall, letting you situate yourself before he leans forward to trace a path down your spines with his mouth.
“pretty girl. the prettiest.” he whispers, patting your ass almost lovingly before shucking your bottoms and panties off with a purpose. strong hands knead the curve of your ass like dough as he spreads your heat, leaning forward to lick at your dripping mound.
“bend.” he tells you, letting go only briefly to slap his palm against the meat of your thigh. your hips press back almost immediately, giving him more room to work with.
the feeling is too much and not enough at the same time, pushing you toward you edge at a speed you know all too well. you whimper when you hear him suck on his fingers briefly, feeling one of his spit-soaked fingers joins the mix soon after.
toji rubs over your little nub, back and forth through your glossy folds like it pays the bills. before long, you’re closing your fingers around his wrist with a cry.
“what, too close?” he muses, parting from your folds with a vulgar smack of his lips. he wipes his mouth off on his jersey sleeve before standing to his full height, holding your hips in place while he lines himself up.
“hurry.” you grumble, pressing your body back until you feel the head of him catch against your hole. toji slides home with a happy grunt, filling you to the brim with an indescribable feeling.
“why do you always end up being the impatient one, hm?” he teases, rocking you back and forth on his dick with you crowded against the wall.
“i missed you.” you reason, sparing a glance back at him to see the look on his face. the sight you’re rewarded with has you pussy clenching down hard. you take a moment to watch the way his bangs hang over his eyes, how his eyes narrow every time he bottoms out and his balls smack against your seam, the way his lips press together like he’s trying to keep his moans at bay.
“missed you too, angel.” he groans, throwing his head back with a noise that can only be described as pornographic.
you won’t last much longer, and toji knows judging by the way his he angles his hips to buck up against the spot inside of you. his hand comes up to guide your face towards him as you cum, taking in every minute expressing that crosses your face.
“look at me.” he commands, pressing your cheeks together with a grin. “there we go, good job baby. look at me when i cum.” hit seed floods your lower half as he empties his load inside of you. you tremble like a lead in his grip, feeling overstim take over as you’re gripped and kneaded from every angle.
the ride back down to earth feels heavenly. the throb between your legs dulls to a soft ache as toji eases out of you, quickly shucking your panties up to catch the mess. you swat at him with a laugh, stepping away from the wall with shaky legs and a smile.
“you played better this match.” you tell him, flipping your shirt right side out with a hum.
toji looks at the ground and laughs. if you didn’t know any better you’d swear he was blushing.
“don’t say that i’m gonna get hard again.” he huffs. you watch him lace his skates up with a familiar warmth under your skin, taking his hand as he guides you back outside and toward the hall.
“cmon, got a press conference in 10. wanna get you a good seat.”
pornstar!sukuna has a niche for the dark and dangerous. ☆
he's strict about the shoots he accepts, usually only taking the ones that cater to his more intense nature... ropes and chains and gags and rigs beyond the typical BDSM fanatic's wildest dreams.
he's worked with countless other actors and actresses—he's demeaned and degraded and stolen people's dignities for a paycheck hundreds of times over. but his favourite is you.
you're not so easy to break, and he likes the challenge. plus, all the videos you've made with him tend to make double his usual profit. the people like watching him bend you out of shape.
pornstar!sukuna is quick to agree when you call him late one night asking for a favour. you were meant to do a camshow with another pornstar when he cancelled last minute. and you know people are excited for this one—so you promise him half your earnings for an hour or two of his time.
he expects a homemade rig to greet him when he's walking into your home within the hour. maybe something a little more vanilla than he's used to, but it doesn't take fancy equipment to spank your ass raw.
so it's a slight shock to his system when he walks into your room to find a bunch of... pink. a camera and laptop feed stand pointed at your bed, which is covered in pink linen, and hanging from your headboard is a pair of fluffy pink handcuffs.
he sees the vision. you, laid out and fucked like a whore in pink. he could make you cry, stain your pretty pink sheets with your tears, his cum... he's eager.
until you tell him the handcuffs aren't for you, but for him.
pornstar!sukuna has half a mind to walk the fuck out. to bend you over the bed and fuck you stupid for even assuming he'd give up his sweet control on camera. that he'd ruin his crafted image of the sadistic figurehead for a camshow of all things.
but you're looking up at him so pretty. how can he turn heel and walk out now? he's seen you fucked out and stupidly cockdrunk before, heard you beg and whine and cry for mercy... he knows what you look like when you submit. when you give, and give, and give.
so what if he wants to know how you look when you take?
pornstar!sukuna, the notorious dominant, loads up on thousands of peoples screens that night, handcuffed to the headboard in a room that is entirely pink. the cuffs, the sheets, his mussed hair, the pretty blush that paints the bridge of his nose, the leaky tip of his cock as you sit beside him and stroke it up and down, nails painted pink to match.
he growls when people start tipping each time he gets close to orgasm, bumping up a timer at the top of your screen that counts down the time until he's allowed to cum—every donation adding five seconds here, ten seconds there.
he looks so very out of place, big and imposing and so covered in tattoos that even his ridiculous length has ink running up the shaft. he's needy and growing all the more desperate the longer you deny him the sweet release he was hoping to bully into you. god, the muscles in his arms twitch with the temptation to break free and fuck you mindless.
it's when you start praising him, nice and loud for the mic to pick up, that he thinks something might be wrong with the wiring in his head—because he moans. his whole life, he's gotten off on inflicting the worst onto others. and now he's on the painful brink of what might be the strongest orgasm of his life cresting, and you're not letting him come.
pornstar!sukuna can only hold on to this degradation for so long before his taut-pulled patience snaps and burns on impact. watching himself through the display of your laptop, cock red and angry as it leaks copious amounts of precome at your denial, he grits his teeth and groans and calls you a fucking bitch, which earns him a stark slap across the face with your free hand.
the sound carries, and your chat starts speeding up. viewers at home, all with hands down their pants or in their wallets for their card details, all watch with bated breath as realisation dawns on sukuna's face—you slapped him. you slapped him in front of thousands of people, on a camshow that will be available for anyone willing to pay.
so, he snaps. and naturally so.
pornstar!sukuna breaks your locked cuffs with one harsh pull of his wrists, and has you flipped over and taking the entirety of his cock in less time than it takes you to process his movements. part of him is flas you were enjoying his torture, because you're wet enough to take him to the base with only a few choked gasps and a sharp, searing, beautiful burn. no tears... this time.
he fucks you stupid for toying with him for so long. for airing out a side of him that is weak in the bones for you, and plastering it across the internet for anyone (and everyone) to see—your viewer count is higher than it's ever been.
still, even as he bullies his cock into you, makes you watch yourself on the laptop screen as you take every last burning inch of his length, he's somewhat sweet. his tight grip on your hips is soothed by his thumbs rubbing small circles into your skin, grunt and groans are paired with soft whispers of praise into your ear—low enough, of course, that the mic can't pick up a word of the sweet nothings he's spilling into you alongside his cock.
and, for the first time on film, sukuna turns your chin and catches your lips in a wet kiss as he cums. lip piercing cold against your heated lips, your legs shaking beneath him in desperate need for mercy as he spills inside of you. it's almost enough to trigger your own orgasm, and you'd manage to get there on the feeling of being so utterly filled, if not for the way he pulls out right as you're on the edge, denying you as you had denied him.
pornstar!sukuna is, at the end of the day, mean.
he laughs when, in your cum-drunk haze, you try to scramble forward and shut the lid of your laptop to end the camshow. he stops you with a big arm around your waist, pouting mockingly into the camera as you try nonetheless to reach for what might be the only thing stopping sukuna from quite literally rearranging your guts. no dice.
you want it off. you want to fear for what he'd do to you without any prying eyes. you'd like more than anything to beg and plead for an orgasm or three, but the kind of look sukuna is giving you now says nothing of sweet release.
instead, he looks right into your webcam and grins something shark-like. he promises your since-doubled viewer count that the show won't end until you've paid ten-fold for what you've done to him.
fratboy!gojo and fratboy!eren who originally made it a bet to see who could get you to fold first, the prize being bragging rights and an unlimited supply of weed. they both approached you at the same time with a subtle “hey” before handing you a cup of alcohol. they kinda just bullshitted with you the whole time. asking you obvious questions like, “oh you’re in our chem class right?” “i think you sit a few seats away from us.”
fratboy!gojo and fratboy!eren who thought it would be funny to ask you about your sex life, but to their complete surprise, you complied and told them everything. what you’re into, your kinks, fantasies, wet dreams you’ve had. all they could do is listen with their mouths wide open and their cocks hard. what started as a bet unfolded into something much more interesting, and much more dangerous. who knew the smartest girl in class turned out to be a slut?!
fratboy!gojo and fratboy!eren who mutually agreed to end the party early just to get a taste of your pussy. none of them caring about the bet anymore, they just wanted to watch the pretty nerd break like a kit kat and fall apart on their cocks. they wanted to do everything you fantasized about to you.
fratboy!gojo and fratboy!eren whose fucking you into oblivion. they have you laying your back on the couch, gojo’s cock sinked deep into your wet pussy and eren standing up, roughly fucking his cock into your mouth. you were slobbering and drooling all over his shaft while gojo’s cock abused your tight hole, his hand rubbing circles around your sensitive twitching clit.
fratboy!gojo and fratboy!eren who talk to you like you’re nothing but a fucktoy to them. “fuuckk yeahh— tell me who this pussy belongs to. us, right?” “fuckin’ love how this virgin pussy feels wrapped around my cock. god you feel so tight and warm.” “gonna make sure our cocks is the only thing you think about. no more stupid chemistry or math— just us.”
fratboy!gojo whose quite literally double comboing you, the feeling nauseating. he’s fucking and choking you at he same time, hips snapping into your pussy as he continues to hit that spot that makes you see stars. “slutty nerds gonna cum all over my cock? aww poor bab— wait— you said you need to pee?!”
fratboy!eren who stares in absolute disbelief as he watches you squirt all over gojo’s cock, he nearly came in your mouth at the sight of you forcing gojo’s cock out your tight hole because of how messy it was. “holy shit— nerds a fuckin’ squirter.” yeah, eren was practically whining at this point.
fratboy!gojo and fratboy!eren who ended up giving you their numbers, not just for the bet but because they were more than ready to link up for a second round with you.
You were careful when you first started dating Toji. You always wore your best underwear around him, always made sure you saw him on hair wash day 1 or 2, at most. You avoided staying overnight around his apartment when you were on your period and sprayed at least half of bottle of perfume on your clothes before you met with him.
However, it seemed that Toji could not care less. You’d excuse yourself to the bathroom with a pair of synchronised footsteps behind you. Without a knock, he’d open the bathroom door and stand in there while you were peeing. He’d unashamedly stare too, as if you were eating food and not taking a piss.
Or you’d drop something off at his apartment after an intense gym session, gym-wear sticking to your skin and cheeks still red. But then, he’d drag you in, push you down onto his bed and push his face in between your thighs. You’d squeal, try and kick at him to move because you knew you hadn’t had a shower yet.
“Come on, doll. Let me love my girlfriend.” Then he’d press his nose into your crotch and deeply inhale.
“Toji!” You scream. “You are such a freak!”
“Ouch, ma. That hurts.”
“Well it’s true.”
You let him eat you out anyway. You can’t say no to those devilish eyes and handsome smirk.
Sadly, you can’t say no to anything that Toji wants. You let him steal your dirty underwear, you let him sit in the bathroom with you whilst your bent over on the toilet seat with period cramps.
And he loves it.
He fights back a grin whenever you let him join you in the shower (after insistent begging), knowing you’ll let him wash your hair even if it’s greasy (because he begs you even more).
He gets a boner whenever you stretch your feet over his lap and silently command him to give you a foot massage, or when you let him eat you out on your period.
He may have been a bit weird; but it was clear he loved you through his freakish ways.
Imagine getting your throat fucked by pornstar!geto but cameraman!gojo catches your attention instead.
You couldn't help but get distracted with the way he's bringing that camera all close to the spread of your laps, whispering, "Fuuuck, you take cock so prettily..." as if you couldn't hear him.
He’s so talkative that it drives you insane. Every time he films you and Geto, the huskiness of his voice and the soaking bulge of his dick—that’s just screaming for attention—resting so annoyingly in between his thighs always adds to the overall fun of your job. Sometimes you only agree to film with Geto just because you know Gojo always tags along as his designated cameraman.
Your lashes are dewy with tears and even though you wish you could focus on him a bit more, Geto's too busy cocking his head to the side and letting out a heavy puff of air as he notices your lack of attention on him.
So naturally he grabs a rude fistful of your hair and tugs his dick out your mouth just to send you the meanest expression. "She does, doesn't she?" He'd purr out in response to Gojo before lifting his thick cock and slapping the flat of your tongue with it. "Take it like such a good slut f'me, don't you, pretty girl?"
It's not until you look up at him again that he stuffs his inches past your lips again, watching the drool and spit hypnotically trickle past the corners of your mouth and then down your chin, dripping off of your jaw.
Yet, with the way Geto hears Gojo gasping as if he hadn't filmed similar scenes to this time and time before, he finds himself ticked off once more. Especially because your eyes wander over to him again and then you moan afterwards.
"Tch, never mind then," Geto huffs with a rude thrust of his hips. Two big hands meet the sides of your face and he forces your head to stay straight so that you could focus on only him for a second as he gets meaner. "Dumb slut can't even focus on one cock at a time."
The flimsy fabric of your panties is soaked with the way Geto talks to you. Secretly, you love making him jealous this way. You know he’s probably just doing it for film but fuck, the way he actually gets ticked off only makes you squeeze your thighs together.
Especially as he starts bullying his cock down your throat, causing all sorts of filthy and gurgling noises to echo out into the room.
Gojo finds himself snorting at his little comment and although he's moving to catch the scene in a different angle, his talkative nature takes over yet again.
"Stop being so mean, Suguru." Gojo scoffs lightly as he zooms in on the way your eyes lull back and your jaw falls open even wider and sends you a teasing wink you don’t quite catch before whispering, "Y'know she's greedy."
this is a repost from kamitv, if it looks familiar that's why. || perm general tags:
Sukuna’s little nephew, Yuji, likes to overshare :)
On days like today, you often went to the park to enjoy the solitude, to read among the trees and take in the peace and quiet.
As an admirer of the beautiful green trees that thrived with the arrival of Spring, you decided to pull your phone out and take a couple of pictures, when suddenly, you felt something tug on your left pants leg.
You looked down, now staring into the blinking brown eyes of a pink-haired child. “Hi there. Are you okay?”
“Uh huh,” he nodded.
“Where are your parents?”
“Gone. My uncle’s here.” The boy pointed towards a man — a buff, tattooed one — who chatted on the phone a short distance away. “He says . . . he said that you’re pwetty.”
“Oh,” your eyebrows raised in surprise. “Well, um, tell him I said-”
“When do you come home with us?”
“Hm?” Confused, you tilted your head a little.
The little boy matched your head tilt with one of his own. “I asked ‘cause my uncle said he- that he’d take you home with him. When I’m home, I watch T.V.! I live with my uncle cause-because my parents are gone. Will you come home with us soon?”
The stunned silence didn’t last long, because, soon enough, the man who wanted to take you home was making his way over.
“Yuji!”
Yuji glanced back with a guilt-free smile.
“Yuji, what the hell are you doing?” The man gently grabbed the small child by his hoodie. “Sorry, lady.”
Looking up at his uncle, the clueless little boy went on, on, and on. “I just ask when she coming home with us. Because you said you wanted to-”
He was cut off by the man suddenly lifting him up. “Just for that, brat, your lunch has changed from dino nuggets to broccoli. No cheese.”
“But I didn’t do anything! Miss? Can you give me the dino nuggets when we go home? I’ll let you play with my twansformer toys!” The boy kicked, pouted, and gave his uncle hell as he tried to toss him over his shoulder.
“She doesn’t wanna play with your transformer toys, Yuji, and she isn’t coming home with us. God, you weren’t even supposed to hear that, you nosy little . . .” The man sighed in pure exhaustion, and, for the first time, found the courage to look you in the eye. “Sorry. I think he fell on his head a coupla times as a baby.”
“It’s alright. It’s funny,” you grinned.
“Can we get her ish cweam?” Yuji said, now using his uncle’s upper body like a jungle gym as he turned himself over to sit on his shoulder.
“Ice cream,” the man corrected.
Yuji frowned in frustration, chubby cheeks poking out, and he tried again. “Ice cweam.”
“Close enough.”
With a grin, Yuji did what he did best. Overshared. “You said that she’s super, super, duper hot, so I think that ice cweam will- because it’s cold, the ice cweam will cool her down.”
“Yeah, we’re leaving.”
The man turned away from you just as you started to giggle.
“Wait,” you called out, letting your laughter die down a bit. “I do like ice cream.”
I always forget there are maga people on tumblr, this doesn’t feel like a website you’d find them on, so to keep them away:
Reblog if your blog is a maga free zone because if it wasn’t clear enough fuck ice, fuck maga, fuck Trump, Fuck Rowling, and fuck all the other bigots I missed
