@extraspicynoodles-blog - Tumblr Blog

you started it!! (satoru x you)

sexting, satoru x you, nsfw, phone sex

Gojo commission I did recently, had to put pants on him for this post booo 👎

u write gojo so good i cant take it😭😭😭 thank you for your service

THANK YOU CUTIE PIE <3 i genuinely got so frustrated reading him as this like alpha male dom guy bc it’s just not him so i decided to take matters into my own hands hahahaah. im so happy you enjoy my writing 🖤

BABY TRAPPED?

HEY HEY YALLLLL sorry i went mia, i just got news suddenly that im moving to the uk from canada and im lowkey stressing tf out, haven’t had time to write :c BUT I WANNA MAKE SURE MY GOJO QUEENS R FED WELLLLL. hope u like this one.

!tw: breeding kink, gojo getting you pregnant

i wanted to make this space safe for all, a place to breathe and take a break from all the shit going on in the world rn. but i am so fucking angry and cannot stay silent. i wrote this the other day. ik it’s not my usual gojo smut and fluff, but i do hope yall enjoy it all the same. i promise i will get back to posting the good stuff soon, im just so tired and angry and frustrated and needed to get this out. ily all so much. ty for giving me the space to express myself. <3

MASCULINITY MADE YOU FRAGILE

You expect kind words. We say choke on them.

We say gag on the sweetness you think you're owed,

while our warm blood drips from your palms.

Except your hands stay clean;

because you never bothered to touch the bodies,

you just let the world do the killing for you

and call yourself one of the "good ones."

You say not all men, yet the obituary column reads like a roll call.

You call us fragile,

yet it's you who shatters at the sound of no.

You who turns "I'm not interested" into a eulogy.

You who wears violence like a cologne

and expect us to lean in and breathe deep.

We have learned to walk with keys clenched between our fingers,

to smile when you corner us,

give in to spare our own lives,

to text each other "made it home safe" the moment the door clicks shut, because we know not all of us will.

And still,

we are followed.

Still, we are hunted.

Still, we are found cold in alleyways and apartments and rivers and basements and trunks.

And you dare to wonder why our bodies don't bend beneath your hands anymore?

You walk into rooms believing we belong to you.

You mistake our silence as consent.

You see our bodies as invitations you never need to RSVP for.

You take without asking, then call us evil for naming the theft.

You call us hysterical when we scream.

Call us cold for walking away.

Spew the word "bitch" as if it holds any weight anymore.

We are tired of lowering our voices

so yours won't rise.

Tired of being told to stay soft

in a world that sharpens its teeth on our bones.

You expect gentleness.

But we have been carving our rage into weapons.

We are done bleeding pretty for you.

We are done dying quietly.

You call it natural selection now,

as if our refusal to shrink for you is some biological inevitability,

as if our resistance to your entitlement is proof that we're "too picky,"

too cold,

too damaged.

You write think pieces and podcasts about the "decline of femininity"

while choking on the fact that we've finally learned to say no.

You don't want wives; you want wombs.

You don't want partners; you want compliance.

You don't want love; you want labor.

You have always been the architects of the violence,

yet paint yourselves as the victimized species.

Misandry offends.

Misogyny kills.

We say death to the patriarchy.

and no, that does not mean death to men.

But understand this:

when you poison the soil,

don't cry when nothing will grow for you.

When you burn the bridge,

don't weep that we will not cross it.

Nature does not protect what destroys it

and we are not obligated to keep you alive while you insist on killing us.

oddly specific kinks/sex traits I think satoru would have

squirting/overstimulation: once he figures out how to make you gush like a mf geiser, that’s his mission every single time. he gets obsessed with you squirting. you’re whimpering, trying to crawl away, and he’s like “nope. you’re gonna ruin the sheets again, baby. i believe in you.” he loves seeing you all flushed and overstimulated, breathing heavy and shaking, and he’s cooing at you like “aww, my baby’s so pretty” then fucks you stupid until you’ve made a literal puddle for him. also he’d definitely try to lick it up after.

talking you through it: okayyy c’mon. we all know this man does NOT shut up while balls deep inside you. it’s a combo of filthy praise, incessant babbling, and whining/whimpering. when you’re whimpering he’ll go “i know baby, i know. can you take it one more time? i know you can, good girl.” then he’ll switch to “oh my fucking god, please let me live in here, your pussy is so perfect” to “i’m in love, you’re so perfect, fuckin’ swallowing me whole” to then straight up whimpering. satoru is not a dom, but he’ll randomly spit out the craziest, sexiest shit ever between stupid pussy drunk rants.

wearing his clothes: he would want you in his clothes all the time, or lingerie he meticulously picked out (after hours of research). he wants to see you in his big shirt and his boxers when he gets home. then he’ll fuck you half dressed. bonus points if you wear his uniform jacket and nothing else.

begging: he begs. for everything. to touch, to cum, to taste. and the more you tease him, the more whiny and high pitched he gets. he begs like a pathetic lil simp but lovesssss working for it.

body worship: especially when you’re feeling gross. He’ll get down and kiss every inch of you and ramble on about how you’re especially pretty when you’re all sweaty and stinky. he loves to kiss and touch and hold every inch of you, even the conventionally unattractive parts. this man will kiss your kneecaps, thighs, shins, tummy, arms, fingers, everywhere.

aftercare: he has a whole entire post sex routine for you. he’ll bring you your fav plushie, snacks, fuzzy socks, hydration, forehead kisses, and tuck you in in like the his very own lil princess. he takes care of you like you’re recovering from battle.

lipstick kink: he went out and bought his fav shade of lipstick you wore one time and keeps it in his drawer. every time you wear it, he knows he’s not letting you leave without it being smeared down his stomach, kissed across his collarbone, and maybe even stamped on his lower abs. “put it on.” “why?” “so I can ruin it.” and of course, you do. he moans the loudest when he looks down and sees your lip print circling the tip of his cock.

domesticated gojo: you’re doing some domestic household activity like folding laundry. he’s supposed to be helping. but instead, he wraps his arms around your waist from behind and murmurs “can I fuck you on the towels? you smell like fabric softener and I’m losing it a little.” you try to ignore him, but he starts humping against your ass like a brat, whining “pleaaasee? i’ll buy new ones. i’ll do the laundry for a week.”

cumming in his pants: the first time you fuck, he barely makes it past the first few strokes because he’s already came in his pants before he even put his cock in you. but he gets weirdly into it. at first, he’s fully embarrassed but you tease him and he’s like “wait… you liked that?” and now suddenly he’s always asking for you to sit on his lap “just to see how long it would take him.” he constantly asks you to ride him over his clothes just so he can cum without actually fucking you. he has a mental personal time record.

voyeurism: Satoru is absolutely the type to enjoy watching you. he gets off on and is obsessed with how gorgeous you look when you give him his own little shows. he’d be the type to wanna torture HIMSELF, sitting back and watch you touch yourself just for his entertainment, maybe even stroking himself while you masturbate in front of him. also?? he 100% wants to film you (with consent) and watch it on missions when he misses you.

solo shows: he begsssss for them. you pretend to resist just to make him work for it. you, in just a oversized tee, slowly sliding your panties down while he sits, hard as a rock, on the edge of the bed like “you’re so mean. you’re gonna kill me. do you want me to fucking die right now?” he gets off on watching you finger yourself slow at first, teasing your clit with soft circles, then speeding up while staring directly at him. maybe you even moan his name. for… effect.

touching yourself while he drives: yuuuup. imagine you’re in the passenger seat, legs spread, and he dares you to play with yourself while he’s stuck in traffic. you’re all flushed, biting your lip, thighs a bit shaky, and he can’t stop glancing over at you. he tries to be cocky but ends up a little pathetic mess whining because he can’t touch you. “this was supposed to be torture for you, but I’m the one losing it.” now it becomes a thing where he loves (and lowkey hates but in a good way) watching you masturbate in the passenger seat discreetly. bonus points if someone drives by and sees.

thigh obsession: he has to touch them and kiss them and bite every. fucking. time. “you’re gonna kill me with these thighs.” “you squeeze my head between them and i’ll die happy.” “nuh uh, i’m not done. i need another minute of thigh time.” he would literally lay between them face first like he lives there.

spit kink: not in a degrading way, but more so intimately. he’d hold your chin and ask “can i? please? just open for me.” and then watches it land on your tongue like it’s the most spiritual exchange on earth. he whimpers when you swallow. he would want you to spit in his mouth too, though. says it’s an equal trade.

obedience kink (on him): he loooooooovvesss when you give him instructions. you say “stay still,” he says “yes mommy.” you say “hands behind your head,” and he obeys like you hung the fucking moon. he’s super eager to earn it. he always wants to be good.

panty stealing/scent kink: i don’t think he’d ever admit it outright, but he would 100% steal your panties and keep them with him. take them on missions. to meetings. he also definitely has a stash. you’d be like “why is my favorite pair missing, Satoru?” he’d make a stupid pouty face and be like “i needed a comfort object.” and then he will turn around and jerk off with them in his hand with zero fucking shame. especially when he’s away on long missions or when you’re traveling. you caught him holding them one time after a round of facetime sex and scolded him… but yall ended up having round 2.

HI ALL <3 i’m sorry i haven’t posted any one shots in a while. i was away for a convention and also just took some time away from my phone. will be back to posting regularly in the next few days. i’ve got some drafts, i just wanna make sure they’re perfect. ty ty ty <3

#jjk gojo #jjk satoru #gojo satoru

it’s true i cracked him last night

#jjk gojo #jjk satoru #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #satoru #gojo

game night gone… right?

!virgin gojo, gojo x you, gojo x reader, losing virginities, nerd gojo

okay okay okay i dabbled in writing virgin gojo and kinda nerdy gojo as an experiment, let me know what u think :))

lovelyem1121

i just wanna trace his v line with my tongue.

too much sake? (gojo x you)

a/n: ok so ever since writing drunk gojo in my fanfic i’ve been cookin up this little quick os. idk why but i love drunk gojo sm??? anyways there’s a little hint of a breeding kink in here, not too extreme but def mentions of getting you pregnant. enjoy :)

sanrio coochie (gojo x you one shot)

okay i’m literally so sorry for this LMFAO. i had this idea and had to write a one shot about it because it’s soooo fucking satoru coded. yes, i did in fact put a kuromi pimple patch on an ingrown (SRRY FOR THE TMI) and all i could think was fucking satoru would lose his mind at that. guys this is me coping, i reread shinjuku showdown and i needed to write ridiculous satoru fluff. i hope yall enjoy… SORRY AGAIN

satoru loves your toothbrush ?? (excerpt from my fanfic)

this is just a short little blip i wrote and found funny 😭😭

#jjk gojo #jjk satoru #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #satoru gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #gojo fluff #gojo fanfic

lovelyem1121

okay guys i got some fic recommendations

gojosmommy222 on wattpad has some of the BEST fics i was literally kicking my feet and giggling while reading 😭

my favorite so far is crossing lines it was SO GOOD it literally had me in tears. it also goes a long with the story line and the writing ?? literally chefs kiss.

@extraspicynoodles-blog the wattpad belongs to this amazing person so show them some love plsss 🫶🏻

extraspicynoodles-blog

I LOVE YOU SO MUCH 😭❤️

YOUR FIRST TIME? (Satoru Gojo x You one shot)

Satoru finds out he’s the first person who’s gonna eat you out. And when he does? Lord have mercy on your soul, babe. He loses his fuckin minddddd (excerpt from my new fanfic!) enjoy pookies <3

"I want to taste you," he murmured, like it was a prayer. "Let me?"

I froze. Just for a second.

He must've felt it. Noticed the way my fingers twitched. The tension that flickered across my shoulders. He leaned up, eyes searching mine, serious now.

"Hey," he whispered. "Is that okay?"

"I..." My throat felt tight. "No one's ever... done that before."

Silence.

"WHAT." His voice cracked. He blinked at me like I'd just admitted I'd never had water. "Wait, hold on. What the fuck. Are you telling me your first time getting eaten out is going to be me?!"

"I said you don't have to-"

"No. Absolutely the fuck not. Sit back, princess." His hands gripped my thighs again, firmer this time but still so gentle. "You're telling me no one has ever worshipped this pretty pussy before?"

I covered my face with my hands. "Oh my fucking lord-"

"No. You don't get to hide." He pulled my hands away, grinning like a devil and an angel in the same breath. "You're getting your world rocked tonight. And if this is your first time? I'm going to make it so good it'll haunt everyone who came before me."

"There is no one before you," I muttered, cheeks hot.

That shut him up. For a second. Then he groaned and dragged his hands down my thighs, groveling like a man possessed.

"Oh my god. I'm never recovering. You're trying to kill me. Is this what heaven is? Is this my death?"

He didn't even wait for an answer.

He kissed the inside of my thigh sweetly, like a thank you. And again. And again. All while holding my legs open like I was a masterpiece meant to be studied. Praised.

"I'll stop if you tell me to," he murmured, eyes flicking up to meet mine. "Just please say yes."

He didn't hesitate once I gave that little nod. He sank to his knees at the edge of the bed like it was instinct, like it was where he belonged all along.

And maybe it was.

"Spread a little wider for me," he murmured, hands warm and devoted as they slid up my thighs, lifting them onto his shoulders. "Just wanna see you. Let me see."

I flushed, but obeyed. Mostly because his voice was so quiet. So raw. Like he wasn't trying to seduce me, just know me. And when he saw me? He completely stopped breathing.

"Oh sweet mother of God," he whispered, like it physically hurt him. His fingers ghosted over the crease of my inner thighs, eyes transfixed. "You're so fucking pretty down here."

I choked on my breath. "Don't say shit like that-"

"No, no-" he cut me off instantly, shaking his head, dragging his thumb delicately through my slick folds like he was painting something to be put in a museum. "You don't get it. This? This is insane. I mean, fuck, look at you. Do you even know how gorgeous you are when you're not trying to deflect or impress or hide behind whatever perfect version of yourself you think I want?"

His voice cracked on the last word.

"I've never seen anything so perfect," he said. "I want this. You. Like this-"

He didn't even bother to finish his sentence, and he didn't have to. Because the moment I gave the smallest sound, he dropped his head between my thighs and worshipped like it was his only job.

Soft at first. Gentle. Like he was trying to figure out exactly what I liked. But then his tongue flattened, and my hips bucked. "Fuck," I gasped, nails digging into the sheets.

He groaned in approval. "That good already?"

I couldn't even answer. And he didn't stop. Instead he moaned softly against me, tongue working like he was learning a new language, and I was the only one he ever wanted to speak fluently. His hands pinned my hips as I writhed, his mouth so warm, so slow, so fucking good I felt like I was going to explode.

He stilled only for a moment, lips slick, eyes wide and appreciative like he was witnessing the second coming.

"You've seriously never-?" His voice cracked, and he blinked like he'd been personally offended by the universe. "No one's seriously ever gone down on you?"

I shook my head, barely. My breath was already ragged, hips twitching with anticipation, skin electric from his touch.

He sat back on his knees for half a second, jaw slack in disbelief. "That's... that's a crime. A fucking federal offense." Then, eyes darkening: "Don't worry, baby. I'm about to file a full report. Tongue first."

And he meant it.

He dove back in like a man starved, like the only thing that could keep him alive was the taste of the filthy sweetness coating his tongue.

He licked a slow, deliberate stripe up my soaked cunt, and I arched, fingers curling so hard into the sheets it hurt.

"Holy fuck, Satoru-"

He moaned into me, loud, like he'd just tasted heaven and would never recover. It vibrated right against my clit.

"Mmh, fuck- you taste like honey," he mumbled, already breathless, already gone. "Holy shit, baby. I swear, I just saw heaven and it’s between your thighs- fuck, you're dripping-"

He pulled back just far enough to meet my eyes. His mouth was dipping with my mess, wet and glossy, his chin shining. His eyes were completely blown.

"Who the fuck doesn't eat you out?" he demanded like he was ready to fight someone. "No, seriously. This? No, no. I have to earn this. I’m obsessed with your pussy sugar."

I covered my face with my hands. "Oh my god-"

“Don’t hide from me,” he murmured, voice thick with hunger. Still playful, still soft, but dipped in something darker. Needier.

“I want to see you baby,” he whispered, kissing up the inside of my thigh. “Wanna feel you cum with my mouth on you. Wanna see the face you make when you’re not pretending anymore.”

His tongue flicked out, teasing, tasting.

“Let me see it, baby. Let me see your real face. The one you make when you’re soaked and desperate and making those pretty sounds just for me.”

He didn't wait for an answer. He dove back in like it was the worlds last drop of water; like my pussy was something carved into legend. His nose bumped my clit with every slow grind of his tongue. His hands never left my thighs, thumbs rubbing circles, grounding me as my whole body began to twitch.

“You’re so fucking sweet,” he murmured between licks, voice low and hoarse. “So pretty. So perfect. My god, I’m gonna lick up every last drop of you.”

He dragged his tongue slow and deep, then pulled back just enough to pant against my drenched heat.

“This is like a sticky little love letter from your pussy. See? She loves me,” he grinned, breathless, eyes wild with obsession. “Yeah, that’s it. Keep writing it, baby.”

And then he dove back in like he was starving, like every moan was a hymn and I was his religion. I whimpered, bucking my hips up, and he groaned in response like it pained him.

"Yeah? That feel good, pretty baby?" He pressed a kiss to my clit, tender, obscene. "Bet I can make you cum just like this. Bet I can make you scream."

He flattened his tongue against my soaked slit and flicked; fast, relentless, absolutely zero shame. Over and over, wetter each time, like he was committed to making my body convulse for him, over and over. Each stroke had purpose. Precision. Worship.

His nose nudged my clit while the flat of his tongue lapped up every bit of slick I gave him, chin shiny, breath absolutely ragged and hot against me.

“Fuck,” he gasped against my pussy, rutting his hips down into the mattress like he was the one losing control. “This- this is fucking unreal.”

Then he did it again. Flattened his tongue and dragged it up in a slow, filthy stroke before switching to tight, focused flicks right against my clit. Rhythm perfect. Pressure filthy. Sloppy, devoted, slightly feral.

“Look at this,” he murmured, voice shredded from moaning so much. He pulled back only enough to spread me open with two fingers, eyes locked on the mess between my thighs. “This pretty little puddle you’re making for me… my fucking favorite thing on the planet.”

And before I could beg for more, he was already back on me; sucking now, hard and obscene, like he was trying to pull my orgasm out by force. His fingers dug into my thighs like he needed them to keep from ascending.

"Satoru- fuck, Satoru!"

"Oh baby, say my name again. Please," he rasped, sucking my clit into his mouth.

I did. God, I did. And he kept going, fingers gripping my thighs, holding me open for him. He never stopped. Not even when my back arched. Not when my thighs clamped around his head. Not when I screamed.

If anything, he moaned louder, messy and needy, like my orgasm was his reward.

His words were muffled against my absolutely drenched heat. "I could die right now and I'd die happy."

His tongue flattened and dragged up again; slow at first, like he was savoring the flavor and soothing me all at once. Then he flicked, over and over - faster, filthier, even hungrier, if that was possible. Lips sealed around my clit like he’d been deprived of it his whole fucking life. He sucked once more, and my legs nearly gave out.

“Fucking hell,” he breathed into me, licking up every drop of slick I was gushing onto his face. “You’re dripping. So fucking messy for me. This little mess-” his voice cracked on the word, “-you’re making for me, baby, look at it. Fuck, I could drown in you.”

He groaned low, like he was the one getting off. And maybe he was, judging by the way he was rutting harder against the bed, panting against my cunt like he needed the air between my thighs more than oxygen.

His tongue circled, relentless and fucking filthy. My fingers tangled in his hair, tugging hard, but he just moaned and pressed deeper.

One hand hooked beneath my thigh, keeping me open. The other slid up, flat against my lower belly, holding me still while he devoured me like the answer to every prayer he’d ever screamed into a void.

“You’re already close,” he rasped between licks. “I can feel it. You’re doing so good, pretty baby. Don’t think. Don’t pretend. Just let me have it. Let me fuckin’ drown in it.”

My back arched, hips grinding up helplessly against his mouth, and he gasped in response; open mouthed, tongue dragging fast and firm, like he was trying to fuck the orgasm out of me with his mouth alone.

“Satoru- fuck, I can’t-” My voice broke, high and desperate.

“Yes you can,” he whispered, unhinged and breathless, barely pulling off my clit. “You deserve it. All of it, pretty girl. Ruin my face.”

That was all it took.

I came so hard it punched a scream from my lungs. My whole body shook, spasming around his mouth, crying his name over and over, vision blacking out at the edges as my orgasm ripped through me like it had been waiting my whole fucking life to hit.

And he didn’t stop.

He licked me through every convulsion, every sobbing breath, kissing the tears off my thighs, sucking gently until my hips twitched and I sobbed his name again, this time not in climax but overstimulation.

And still, he didn’t let go.

He kissed up my inner thighs, soft now. Worshipful. Overwhelmed. His lips were parted and soaked when he finally looked up at me, absolutely drunk on disbelief like my pussy had just rewritten his entire life’s purpose.

“You’re not real,” he whispered, dazed and dumb and drunk on it. “You can’t be real. I’m losing my fucking mind.”

He kissed my belly. My hand. The inside of my knee. And then he rested his cheek on my thigh like it was home, humming softly, face a mess of slick and spit and awe.

Satoru Gojo had been brought to his knees.

And he loved it.

"That," he panted, dragging his thumb across my slick thighs again, "was the single hottest thing I've ever witnessed in my life."

I was too dazed and dizzy to answer.

He leaned up, kissing my cheek. Coating my flesh with my own slick.

"Okay," he whispered into my skin. "Now I'm gonna hold you for a second so you don't float out of your fucking body, and then I'm gonna love-fuck you until the only name you remember is mine. Sound good?"

MIRRORS (GOJO X YOU ONE SHOT)

alright… we all know this man loves to fuck you in front of mirrors. now go eat, my satoru simps <3 wc: 4.6k

————

I tugged his shirt over my bare thighs; oversized, thread worn, soft in a way that felt borrowed and claimed all at once. It hung just long enough to kiss the backs of my legs when I walked, but rode up the moment I sat on his bed, warm skin sticking to the cotton where I hadn't fully dried off.

Too tired to care. Too comfortable to be shy.

My hair was still damp, half heartedly towel dried before I gave up and let it cling to the curve of my neck. The scent of his soap lingered on my skin, the same one he used when he pressed up behind me in the shower and murmured something dumb about "teamwork." I didn't have the energy to argue.

I reached for my water on the nightstand, twisting the cap one handed while the other tucked under my thighs. The shirt shifted higher when I leaned. I didn't notice.

I heard him before I saw him; the faint creak of the bathroom door, the soft drag of bare feet on hardwood. When I glanced up, he was standing there. Damp and flushed.

Low slung sweatpants hung on his hips like they were hanging for dear life. His chest rose and fell, pink and slick from the heat. A towel dangled forgotten from his shoulder, but his eyes were locked; unblinking, hungry.

The mirror beside the bed caught everything. The curve of my thigh, the stretch of his shirt over my ass, the amber bedroom light spilling across my skin like something out of a daydream he never meant to say out loud.

He stopped breathing. "Don't move," he said, voice low.

I paused mid sip. "...What?"

"Don't move." Softer now. Rougher. Like it scraped its way out of his throat.

I blinked, watching his eyes, not at me, but through me. Past me. Into the mirror like it was some holy window only he could see through.

He moved slowly, crossing the room and sliding onto the bed behind me, knees bracketing my hips, his chest flush against my back. Warm. Solid. Quietly worshipful. hid hands found my waist, his breath ghosting over the shell of my ear.

"You don't see what I see," he whispered.

A shiver ran through me, sharp and certain.

"But I do," he murmured. "And I want you to look."

My brows furrowed, confused for a second; until his fingers slipped beneath my jaw, tilting my head up with that impossibly gentle touch he always used right before ruining me.

Toward the mirror.

Me.

Perched on his bed with his shirt barely clinging to my thighs, skin flushed from the shower, lips parted, eyes wide. And him, looming behind me. Shirtless. Pink cheeked. Hungry in that quiet, hazy eyed way that always meant he was seconds away from losing it.

Our eyes met in the reflection. His pale, veined hand was still under my chin, thumb resting just below my lower lip like it belonged there.

"You see it now?" he murmured, eyes locked on mine. "See how fucking perfect you look?"

He sounded winded.

"So sweet," he whispered. "So fucking pretty. Just sittin' there in my shirt like you didn't just wreck me without trying."

His lips brushed just under my ear, a soft kiss I barely felt before his breath hitched against my neck. It was warm. Shaky. Like just looking at me in the mirror knocked the wind out of him.

"Fuck, baby... I wasn't even gonna touch you tonight," he said, voice unraveling as he kissed down my throat. "Was gonna be good. Swear I was. But then you sat there like that- fuck, I saw you and I just..."

His voice trailed off, lost in the way I looked.

His hand slipped from my jaw to my collarbone, slow and deliberate, tracing the fabric of his shirt like it was blessed. Like I was blessed. Like he couldn't decide if he wanted to tear it off or fall to his knees and pray.

"Can I?" he whispered, barely audible.

I nodded, breath caught in my chest. "You don't have to ask, babe."

He stilled for a second. Like that broke him a little.

"Keep looking," he said - not commanding, just... pleading. Quiet. A little desperate.

"Please," he added, like it physically hurt to say. "Just keep looking. I wanna see your face when I make you feel good."

One hand slid up under the shirt, cupping my breast like he couldn't believe he was allowed. The other drifted lower, between my thighs, fingers trailing so gently it made my breath catch in my throat.

I gasped involuntary, and he lost it.

"Fuck," he choked out against my temple, his voice already breaking. "I can't even- god, I'm trying to stay in control, I swear I'm trying, but when you do that thing with your mouth and make that sound-"

His fingers circled my clit; just once, just enough pressure, and my jaw dropped. A sharp little whimper slipped past my lips before I could stop it.

"Yeah," he groaned, eyes wide and glued to my reflection. "That. Fucking Christ. Look at you."

He rocked his hips against me unconsciously, like he couldn't stop himself. His cock pressed tight to my back through his sweatpants, twitching with every breathy sound I made. He kept mouthing at my neck, fingers moving without rhythm now, like he couldn't decide whether to worship or unravel.

"You don't get it," he whispered, forehead pressed to mine in the mirror. "You don't get what you do to me."

His fingers slipped back inside, moving slowly as I clenched around them.

"I'm- fuck, I'm barely even holding it together. I see you like this and I just-"

He couldn't finish his sentence; he was too busy watching. Staring. Like the sight of me like this was more than he could take but not enough to stop.

"I can feel you clench when I say that," he breathed, the sound barely holding together. "You like it, don't you?"

His fingers started moving faster, slick and sure - not just practiced, but devoted. Like he'd studied every inch of me. Like he'd been waiting his whole life for the privilege of touching me like this.

My body jolted, a broken little moan catching in my throat. I tried to say something, anything, but it came out as a stuttered breath. Nothing but air and heat.

He watched me fall apart in the mirror. Eyes fluttering. Back arching. Lips parting when his thumb hit just right.

"That's it," he moaned, voice cracking mid-sentence. "Fuck, that's the face. I need to burn that into my brain. I wanna see it every time I close my eyes."

He was panting now. Practically pulsing. His hips rolled against me, subtle and desperate. Then he slowed. Circling again, dragging it out, teasing in slow, devastating spirals until my thighs started to shudder. Until I let out a pitiful sound, high and breathy and barely human.

"Oh, baby," he whispered, wrecked and reverent. "Look at how you melt for me. You're so pretty. So good- Fuck. Look at you."

I rocked helplessly against his hand, my mouth open. A gasp almost forming, but no words came out. I couldn't speak. Instead all that came out was a fractured whimper, loud and unrestrained.

He moaned; loud, shameless, and filthily, the sound itself ripping out of him.

"You're gonna cum soon, huh?" he whispered, his fingers speeding up again, pumping in and out with that perfect, sinful rhythm. "Yeah. Yeah, I can feel it. Look at you. Fuck- look at you."

His fingers moved faster, deeper, curling just right, over and over, slick and filthy and relentless. Every sound I made seemed to go straight to his head, like he couldn't breathe without it.

"Fuck, baby," he panted, lips brushing my shoulder, his whole body shaking behind me. "You're so perfect. Look how you take me. Look how tight you get when I do it just the way you like- this is gonna murder me."

I moaned, breath catching, hips stuttering forward; and he groaned behind me, the sound wrecked and needy, like he was right there with me, hanging by a thread. His rhythm faltered for a second, like he almost came from the sight of it alone.

"You like this?" he whispered, voice shaking, mouth pressed to my ear. "You like watching me fuck you with my fingers?"

"F-Fuck- yes," I gasped, the word spilling out before I could even breathe. "Yes, Satoru- yes."

He whimpered. Full body, helpless, almost collapsed into me kind of whimper. His fingers stuttered, just for a moment, like the praise hit too deep.

"You- fuck, you like when I go deep?" he babbled, lips brushing my skin as he spoke, barely coherent. "When I touch you like this? Like knowing it's me? That it's only me?"

"God, yes- deeper, Satoru, please-"

He froze. His fingers stayed inside, trembling, but he didn't move. Didn't speak for a second. I blinked through the haze. "Satoru?"

"Say it again," he whispered, voice wrecked. "Please. Say my name again."

"Satoru," I moaned, hips rocking back instinctively.

"Oh my god," he whispered, like he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "That's- fuck, that's mine. That's my name. Please baby- can you say it when you cum, too? Please? I wanna hear it. I need to hear it."

He started moving again; faster, deeper, every stroke desperate and shaking, like he wasn't in control of his own hands anymore.

"Look," he whimpered, eyes glassy in the mirror. "Look at you, look at your face- your eyes- I can't, I can't fucking breathe, you're so- shit, you're so pretty when I touch you like this."

I couldn't speak. My mouth dropped open, a breathy sob catching in my throat. He cried out when he saw it.

"That's all mine, right?" he pleaded, forehead pressed to my shoulder like he might fall apart. "Please tell me it's mine- tell me it's me, baby, please-"

"Satoru," I choked out, and his thumb found my clit, circling just right, and he knew.

"Oh, that's it huh? That's the spot, baby? I can feel it, fuck- yeah, that's it. Tell me you're mine, baby,"

"I'm yours," I gasped, whole body trembling, voice cracking under the weight of it. "I'm yours, I'm- fuck, Satoru- Satoru-"

My orgasm hit so hard I nearly sobbed, body seizing around his fingers, breath lost in a mess of heat and sound. I came hard, shaking, soaking, aching, and he let out the most broken moan I'd ever heard.

"Oh my god," he gasped, like he was watching divinity and couldn't handle it. "Oh my god, baby, you're so- fuck, you're so beautiful, I can't-"

He pressed his forehead to my back, still moaning, still inside me, his fingers slowing but not stopping as he coaxed me through every wave of my orgasm.

"That's it," he whispered, voice cracking. "That's it, I got you, let me feel it. So good for me, yeah? So pretty. It's all yours, baby. All yours. I'm yours too."

I whimpered, slumping back against him, legs shaking, and he just held me through it all. Completely wrecked. Flushed. Trembling with me. Coaxing me through it.

His chest heaved against my back, arms curled around my waist, and when he looked up at the mirror again; eyes heavy and glossy, lips parted, he looked almost dazed.

"Fuck," he breathed, pressing a kiss to my temple like it grounded him. "I'll never get over how beautiful you look right now. I should... I should take a picture. Frame it. Put it in a museum and cry in front of it every day."

I let out a breathy little laugh, reaching back for his hand.

But he caught my wrist gently, tugging me forward; slow, soft, gentle despite our prior activities.

"Wait," he whispered. "Can you turn around for me?"

I blinked, confused. "Wh-?"

"Mhm," he hummed, nodding quickly, eyes still wide and locked on the mirror. "Just for a second. Will you? Please?"

"Thought you said it felt less intimate," I teased, voice light.

He exhaled, shaky and uneven, dragging his hand up the length of my spine, fingertips so gentle they made me shiver.

"It does," he murmured, lips brushing my shoulder. "But this isn't about... less."

A pause.

"It's about more."

My breath caught. I blinked again.

"More?"

He nodded toward the mirror.

The angle. The placement. The slow, obsessive intention behind it all.

My reflection.

Bent forward on the edge of his bed, knees sinking into the mattress, his shirt pushed up over my hips, barely covering anything. My thighs spread, hair messy, lips parted.

And him behind me. Kneeling.

Flushed and half wild, knuckles white around the base of his cock as he tried, and failed, to calm himself down. His whole body was shuddering at the sight alone.

"I want you to see," he whispered, inching closer. "I want you to watch the way I fuck you."

His hands settled on my waist; not possessive, not controlling. Grounding. Steadying.

"When you're like this..." he said, sinking behind me slowly, gently guiding me into a soft arch with a pillow under my hips, "I can see everything."

Then his voice dropped, breathless. "Look."

I lifted my head. And my eyes met his in the mirror. I flushed instantly; cheeks burning, lips parting, caught in the intimacy of it all.

And he smiled. Not cocky. Not smug. Not even playful. Just... lovesick.

"See?" he said quietly, like he was pointing out something obvious. "Your face. My face. The way I'm holding you. I wanna show you how beautiful you look to me."

His hand tightened on my waist, grounding, shaking a little.

"You look so fucking good like this," he breathed. "All red and messy and mine."

He ran the head of his cock along my folds, slow and shaky, not even pushing in yet; and when he looked up at the mirror, his mouth fell open. The sight of it. Both of us, like that.

"Fuck," he choked. "I've never looked this good in my life. This is my Roman Empire."

I laughed, breathless, disbelieving, glancing back at him over my shoulder. "Did you seriously just-"

"Shh," he moaned, cutting me off by sliding inside, a low sound escaping his throat as he bottomed out, buried deep. "I'm having a religious experience."

I gasped - hips twitching, breath stuttering, back arching invitingly. He groaned, loud and wrecked, eyes locked on the mirror as he watched my mouth fall open.

"Look at that," he babbled, thrusting again, a little deeper this time. "Look how good you take me. You see that? You see how your body opens up for me like that? Fuck, baby- All mine, yeah?"

"God, Satoru-" I groaned, unable to think of anything else.

"I know," he panted, babbling now. "I know, baby. You're so warm and tight. Take me so good. Fuck, you're perfect."

One hand slipped forward, splaying across my lower back in the mirror. The other dug into my hip like he needed it to stay upright.

"This is what you do to me," he whispered against my shoulder, hips rolling deep and slow now, making me feel every inch of him. "You make me say shit like that. Look at me. Look at me melting for you."

I whimpered, eyes locked on our reflection. My body. His face. The way he held me like I was everything.

"God," he choked, forehead dropping to my shoulder. "You're swallowing me whole. You body was meant to take me like this, huh? crafted by the Gods themselves for me, baby."

I gasped, arching as he drove forward, my reflection jolting with every deep roll of his hips. My mouth dropped open. My eyes fluttered.

"That face," he panted, eyes glued to the mirror as he bottomed out inside me. "That fucking face. You don't even know what you do to me. You don't even know how good you look when I'm this deep- fuck- when I'm inside you like this."

A shaky little laugh escaped me, breath hitching on the next thrust. "You're really losing it, huh?"

He groaned again; devastated, obliterated in every way, and dropped a kiss to my shoulder.

"You think this is funny?" he groaned again. "Look at yourself. Look at how pretty you are. How fucked out you already look and I'm not even going hard yet."

He leaned forward, chest slick against my back, his whole body molding to mine. I could feel his heartbeat. His chin tucked onto my shoulder, his mouth grazing my ear like he didn't want to miss a second.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he whispered, voice thick and trembling. "Look at your eyes. Your mouth. All of you. This is mine, right?"

I moaned louder, my lips parting; but I didn't answer right away. My head tilted slightly. My hips rolled, slow and teasing.

He slowed. Pulled back just a little. I felt it; the hesitation. The ache, the fucking need.

"Say it," he breathed, raw. Barely holding on. "Say you're mine."

I let my head fall back against his shoulder, eyes locked on the mirror, voice low and trembling with heat and wicked delight.

"This what you wanted, Satoru?" I whispered. "To show me how desperate I look when I take your cock?"

He shuddered, head dropping, mouth open against my neck like he couldn't speak.

"Yes- fuck, yes, that's what I wanted," he groaned. "This is all I ever fucking wanted."

I rolled my hips back into him, and his rhythm faltered. Just for a second. And then he snapped.

"I said-" he commanded, his breath muffled against the shell of my ear, "say you're mine."

His grip on my hip tightened. His other hand slid into my hair; not pulling, just holding me where he wanted him, right before he drove into me with three sharp, desperate thrusts that made my knees buckle.

"Say it," he begged again, voice nearly a whimper. "Please, baby. Say you're mine. I'll be good- I swear, I'll be so good for you, fuck- I'll do anything."

I met his eyes in the mirror, my lips curving into something sweet and ruined and just a little smug.

"I'm yours, Satoru."

And that was it. That's all it took.

His breath punched out of him in a moan so raw it sounded like a holy offering; like he was giving himself up to the altar of my body. His whole frame jolted, hips stuttering like the sound knocked the rhythm out of him.

Just for a second.

Then he moved again. Deeper. Needier. Not rough, not wild. Just driven. Every thrust deep and full, his words punctuated by each frantic thrust.

"Fuck- fuck, baby- fuuuckk," he babbled, voice cracking apart with every thrust. "You're mine. You're really mine. I'm never- fucking hell, I'm never fucking letting you go."

His whole body convulsed. And then he made another sound that made me throb; soft, wrecked, a moan so loud it tore through his chest like it hurt. Almost a sob. He bottomed himself out in me again, deep and shaking, whispering,

"Mine. Mine. My fucking girl. God, I love you-"

His hand slipped from my hair to my hand, sliding down until our palms met. He laced his fingers with mine, clutching tight, like he needed to hold me together while he fell apart.

His other hand found its way between my legs again, shaking but practiced, thumb pressing to my clit with just enough pressure to make me jolt.

My moan caught in my throat.

His thrusts slowed, but he moved deeper. A little rougher now, but not because he was trying to be. Because he couldn't help it. Like urgency was chewing through him from the inside out.

"When I cum," he panted, voice barely hanging on, "I don't want a single drop to spill out. I want it all to stay in. I want you full of me."

He leaned in, breath hot against my neck, his whole body buckling and twitching behind me. “Think you can do that for me, my pretty baby?”

I was completely fucked out, my thighs shaking, eyes hazy, lips parted as I fought to keep breathing steadily. His words hit low and deep, right in that soft, helpless place inside me.

But somehow, I found it in me to smirk. Caught his eyes in the mirror, my cheeks flushed, lips glossy, body twitching, and gave him the smallest, filthiest little smile.

“Mhm,” I hummed sweetly, voice light, teasing. “Yes, sir.”

His whole body jolted. His eyes shot wide open.

Something deep within him tore out in the form of a loud, raw groan. His knees nearly gave out. He clung to my hips like a man praying to be saved, trembling like he’d just seen heaven and didn’t think he deserved it.

“Fucking hell,” he choked. “You- fuck, don’t do that to me.”

His voice shook, hands clutching my waist as if he needed to ground himself before he passed out.

“You… better,” he rasped, barely holding it together. “Otherwise I’ll fuck it back into you later.”

But it didn’t land like a threat. It landed like a promise. A desperate one. Like if even a drop of him slipped out, he’d lose his fucking mind.

I whined, body clenching around him so tight it stole his breath. His hips stuttered.

My whole body tightened, legs convulsing as the heat took over my body; white hot and blinding. I sobbed his name, and he moaned like it physically hurt to hear it, thrusting once, twice, hips frantic.

“Baby, fuck, I’m-”

I felt him cum before I even finished speaking. He pulsed deep inside me, cum spilling in the deepest parts of me only he could reach, hot and thick. His body locked tight against mine, chest heaving, arms wrapped around me like he was trying to fuse us together. His forehead dropped to my neck, breath shuddering.

"I fucking love you." Soft. Ruined. Like it was the most sacred truth he'd ever spoken. "I love you," he said again, breath hot and broken against my skin. "God, baby, I love you. You're mine. Forever."

My body slumped forward slightly, weak and dazed, and he followed. He didn’t pull out or move away. He just held me flush against his chest.

His arms wrapped tighter around my waist. He pressed soft, fluttery kisses to my shoulder, and hummed low under his breath, soothing us both back into our bodies.

"You should see us right now," he murmured, voice dazed and sleepy. "You look so fucking beautiful. I look like I got hit by a truck. A hot truck."

I snorted, still breathless. "Romantic."

"I am romantic," he said, grinning as he kissed my temple. "I just fucked you in front of a mirror and said I love you. That's like... the Notebook meets porn."

I laughed. He grinned against my shoulder.

After a few quiet moments, he finally exhaled like he'd just come back from the fucking moon. His lips pressed softly to my shoulder. Then again, lower, to the curve of my spine.

"Don't move," he murmured, already sliding off the bed. "I got you, baby."

I figured he was grabbing water. Maybe a towel. I didn’t expect him to come back with a warm cloth from the sink, kneel between my legs like I was something treasured, and clean me up with that same lovestruck, wide eyed look like I'd just walked out of a dream and let him touch me.

"I'm literally never gonna be with anyone after you." He murmured, out of nowhere.

I blinked. "...What?"

"I'm serious," he said, tossing the towel aside and crawling back into bed beside me; naked, still panting a little, like just talking about losing me was enough to knock the wind out of him. "You ruined me, baby. I'm broken. You think I'm ever gonna find someone else? No way. It's you or no one."

I huffed a laugh, rolling onto my side as he pulled me into his chest. "You're so dramatic."

"I'm not!" he insisted, kissing my forehead with a ridiculous amount of sincerity. "If you die, I'm burying myself with you. Like. In the casket. Big spoon. Holding hands."

I snorted. "You're not even gonna try to move on?"

"Nope. Already decided," he said, wrapping his arms around my waist. "If it's not you, I'm going full cryptid mode. Live off moss and grief."

I tilted my head to look at him. "A cryptid?"

"A hot cryptid," he clarified. "With excellent hair and devastating emotional trauma from losing his wife."

I laughed again, breathless, burying my face in his chest. He pulled me even closer, our bodies as close as two humans could get, and peppered my skin with kisses anywhere he could reach.

It wasn't unlike Satoru to spiral after sex. Wasn't unlike him to babble, to swear I was the best thing that ever happened to him.

But what always got me, what always stuck, was that I could tell he meant it. Every word. Every time. When he said he was ruined for anyone else? He wasn't kidding. He was mine. Entirely. Irreversibly. And he'd stay that way, whether I liked it or not.

He pulled me tighter, his hand resting over my shoulder blade, thumb brushing the fabric of his shirt still clinging to my skin. I felt his lips move against my temple as he spoke again, voice softer now. Less teasing.

"You know how some guys get post nut clarity?"

"Mmm," I hummed, smiling into his chest.

"Yeah," he sighed. "I, however, have post nut sincerity."

I snorted.

"No, genuinely," he insisted, pulling back just enough to look at me. "My brain doesn't reset after sex. It just... confirms everything I already knew."

I blinked up at him, and he cupped my face in one of those big, warm hands. Still smiling. But his eyes… soft. Certain.

"I love you. You're it for me," he said. "And every time we're like this? I feel it even more. Like my body's catching up to what my heart already knew."

It was annoyingly sweet. Devastating, even.

We were quiet after that. Tangled under the sheets, my legs hooked around his, my head tucked beneath his chin. The air smelled like sweat and sex and something heavier. Not empty. Not awkward. Just... peaceful.

"I can't believe you almost cried during mirror sex," I teased, half asleep, smiling.

"I didn't almost cry," he insisted, instantly defensive. "I whimpered with emotion. There's a difference."

"Sure, Romeo."

"I'm serious," he groaned, burying his face in my hair. "You looked so good I thought I was being punished. Like, spiritually."

I laughed, tilting my chin up to look at him. He was smiling. That soft, boyish smile he only wore after he'd come undone and stitched himself back together in the safety of my arms.

I kissed the underside of his jaw, lazy and slow.

He hummed, content.

"Tomorrow I'm going to the hardware store and buying three more mirrors for the ceiling."

I blinked. "What?"

"Ceiling mirrors," he said, dead serious. "Strategic angles. Full coverage. I want the IMAX experience next time."

I groaned into his chest, swatting at him half heartedly as he grinned like an idiot.

And he just wrapped his arms around me tighter, kissing my temple as he laughed.

"Don't worry, babe," he murmured. "It'll be tasteful. Classy. Just me, you, and a hundred reflective surfaces."

"You're ridiculous."

"I'm yours," he said softly.

"Yeah… you are."

NEW FANFIC POSTEDDDDD <333

it’s ongoing but almost doneeee hehe. this one’s more angsty with lots of silly gojo and lots of smut (duh.)

"You weren't supposed to mean anything." But he did. A story about bad timing, worse communication, emotional walls, and the man who somehow

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