◜⑅　 vii　 ˚ִִྀི꒱

[megumisrighttoe]

꒰ ݁˖ꫂ᭪ ꒱ 𓂃 𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐃𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐁𝐚𝐝 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐓𝐨 𝐘𝐨𝐮

‧₊˚ ꒰ 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

in which you finally take Gojo off his high horse and show him who’s really in charge

‧₊˚ ꒰ cw: degradation :: edging :: slight overstim :: bondage :: reader is condescending :: dacryphilia kinda?

‧₊˚ ꒰ word count: 1.4k

a/n: baby’s first time writing gojo on this acc and yall alrdy know i had to make him pathetic😹 happy reading!

It was almost pitiful the way he laid spread across the bed, his powerful frame reduced to helplessness by the ridiculous pink cuffs that bit into his wrists. The fluffy restraints looked absurd against his pale skin, yet they held him fast to the headboard, leaving his arms stretched taut above his head. His own blindfold had been repurposed as a gag, stuffed between his teeth and tied tight behind his skull, muffling every sound that tried to escape him.

He was completely naked, every inch of him exposed. His chest rose and fell in sharp, uneven breaths. Sweat glistened across his torso, tracing the sharp lines of muscle down to the sharp V of his hips. His cock lay heavy against his stomach, already half-hard despite his attempts to fight it, the flushed head twitching with every shift of his body.

Gojo's legs shifted restlessly, thighs flexing as he tried to find some leverage, some way to break free. The cuffs rattled against the headboard with each movement, the soft material doing nothing to ease the humiliation of being so thoroughly restrained. His abs clenched when he arched his back, trying to sit up, only to fall back against the mattress with a frustrated groan that the gag swallowed.

Every inch of him screamed humiliation, yet his body betrayed him—nipples tight from the cool air, cock growing harder against his belly, a bead of precum already forming at the tip. The strongest sorcerer in the world, reduced to this: bound, gagged, and utterly at someone else's mercy.

The mattress dipped as you climbed over him, knees bracketing his hips. Gojo's head snapped toward the movement, blindfold gag muffling the sharp intake of breath that followed. Your fingers trailed down his chest, nails scraping lightly over his nipples until they hardened into tight peaks. He jerked against the cuffs, the fluffy pink material creaking as his wrists strained.

Your touch wandered lower, tracing the ridges of his abs, feeling every muscle twitch and jump beneath your fingertips. When your palm finally wrapped around his cock, he bucked upward, seeking more friction. You gave him none. Instead, you stroked him once—infuriatingly slow—before releasing him entirely.

A frustrated sound vibrated through the gag. His cock twitched against his stomach, the flushed head glistening with precum that you smeared across his skin with a single fingertip. You circled the tip, spreading the wetness, watching how his thighs trembled with the effort not to thrust.

Again you gripped him, pumping once, twice, then stopping. His hips chased your hand, but you pulled away, letting him fuck nothing but the air. The cuffs rattled as he yanked against them, his abs clenching hard enough to make his entire torso shake.

You leaned down, breath ghosting over his ear as your fingers returned to his cock. This time you stroked him with purpose, building that rhythm until his breathing turned ragged and desperate. Just as his balls tightened and his cock swelled in your grip, you let go.

Gojo's entire body arched off the bed, a broken moan muffled by the blindfold between his teeth. His cock slapped back against his stomach, throbbing, dripping, and utterly denied. You watched the way his thighs shook, how his toes curled against the sheets, how every muscle stood out in sharp relief as he fought the cuffs and the overwhelming need to cum.

Your hand returned, wrapping around him once more. You stroked him back to the edge until his breathing hitched and his cock pulsed in warning. Then you released him again, watching him writhe and buck against nothing, his frustrated groans growing louder behind the gag.

Sweat beaded along his collarbones, sliding down his chest as you repeated the process. Grip, stroke, build, release. Each time his cock grew harder, his reactions more desperate. The headboard creaked with every violent pull against the restraints. His cock lay flushed and angry against his belly, the slit leaking steadily now, a puddle forming on his skin.

You dragged your thumb over the sensitive underside, pressing just enough to make him sob through the gag. His legs spread wider instinctively, offering himself, begging without words. You rewarded him with three slow strokes before abandoning him again, leaving his cock twitching and abandoned in the cool air.

The teasing continued until his entire body glistened with sweat, until every breath was a ragged plea, until his cock was so hard it curved toward his navel and his balls drew tight against his body. Each denial made him more frantic, more desperate, the strongest sorcerer reduced to nothing but need and the humiliating pink cuffs that kept him spread and helpless beneath you.

You watched him squirm for a moment longer, that proud chest heaving, before you let out a soft, mocking laugh. "Look at you," you murmured, voice dripping with false sympathy. "The strongest sorcerer in the world, reduced to this pathetic little mess."

Your fingers wrapped around his cock again, giving him three lazy strokes that made his hips jerk upward. Just as his breathing quickened, you released him. "Aw, were you getting close already? How embarrassing."

Gojo's head turned toward your voice, a muffled sound of protest vibrating through the gag. You traced one finger along the underside of his shaft, barely touching, watching it twitch and strain toward the contact.

"What's that?" you asked sweetly. "You want to say something?" You leaned closer, your breath warm against his ear. "Too bad that pretty blindfold is stuffed so nicely between those teeth."

Your hand returned, stroking him with purpose now, building that rhythm until his thighs began to shake. His cock swelled in your grip, the head flushed dark, and you could feel the telltale pulse that meant he was right on the edge. You stopped immediately.

"Oh no," you cooed, watching his cock slap back against his stomach. "Look how much you're dripping. So desperate. So needy." Your fingertip circled the leaking tip, spreading precum in lazy spirals. 

You gave him one single stroke, then pulled away again. "Pathetic. The great Satoru Gojo, begging with his body like a common whore. What would everyone think if they could see you now?"

His cock jerked at your words, another bead of precum welling at the tip. You collected it on your finger and brought it to his chest, drawing a slow circle around one nipple. You wrapped your hand around him once more, pumping steadily, watching his abs clench and release with each stroke. His breathing grew ragged, desperate, his hips rolling upward to meet your fist. Right when his balls tightened and his cock began to throb with impending release, you let go.

Gojo's entire body went rigid, a broken sound escaping around the gag. You smiled, running your palms up his trembling thighs. Your hand returned to his cock, stroking him back toward that edge with deliberate cruelty. "Such a good little toy," you whispered. "So easy to break."

You watched his cock twitch one final time before wrapping your fingers around it again, this time with purpose. "Poor thing," you said, voice thick with mock pity. 

Your hand moved faster, steady and merciless, working him right back to that desperate edge he'd been denied so many times. Gojo's hips bucked wildly, the cuffs rattling hard against the headboard as his whole body strained. His muffled cries grew louder behind the gag, high and broken, his chest heaving with every desperate breath.

"That's it," you cooed, twisting your wrist on the upstroke. "Come on, show me how pathetic you really are."

His cock pulsed violently in your grip, and then he was cumming—hard and helpless, thick ropes of cum splattering across his own stomach and chest. His entire body seized up, muscles locking tight as he sobbed through the gag, the sound wet and broken. Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes, sliding down his flushed cheeks while his cock kept twitching, spurting weakly with each pulse.

You didn't stop stroking him through it, milking every last drop as he whimpered and shook. "Look at that," you said, voice dripping with condescension. "Cumming all over yourself like some desperate little slut. Couldn't even hold it back, could you?"

Gojo's chest heaved with ragged sobs, his body still twitching from the aftershocks. More tears spilled down his face as his cock gave one final weak spurt, leaving him painted in his own mess. His thighs trembled uncontrollably, and broken little sounds kept escaping around the gag, soft, humiliated whimpers that only grew louder when you ran a finger through the cum on his stomach and brought it up to smear across his lower lip.

"Such a good little mess," you whispered, watching him cry. "So fucking pathetic."

a/n: sorry if this is straight ass, i havent written a oneshot—or smut—in a while💔

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©megumisrighttoe. no plagiarism or ai training permitted. dividers: @/cursed-carmine, @/dollywons, @/uzmacchiato, @/pixopix. art: @/_lildev_ on X

[poppymeow]

isanayoruho on twitter

[aesposas]

᧔ 五条 悟 ❤︎ gojo getting cuteness aggression ᧓

𐚁 ₊˚ʚ c.w | fluff :: swearing .

SATORU WAS laying on his back, a lazy arm draped around your waist while you slept against his chest. Your cheek squished against him, your lips slightly parted. He brushed the hair out your face to see you better.

“You’re kidding me,” he whispered to himself, a smirk pulling at his lips. He poked your cheek gently, the overwhelming urge to just squeeze you and kiss you hit him all at once, you just looked so cute in the mornings. His self control lasted about three seconds, his finger gently poking your cheek, giggling to himself. You frowned in your sleep as if even your unconscious self disapproved his actions, but his heart just melted even more.

Unable to stop himself, he wraps his arms even tighter around you, pulling you impossibly closer against him as he rolled onto his side, placing kisses all over your head. “Fucking adorable..”

A muffled groan came from against his chest, your eyebrows knitted together as you started to wake up from all the fuss. Your hands push at his chest, he loosened his arms around you.

You look up at him, blinking several times as your eyes adjusted to the light. “There she is,” he beamed, pinching your cheek.

“..what are you doing?” You slap his hand away gently, clearly not amused from the fact you had been woken up so early because of him squeezing and poking you.

“You just looked to cute sleeping, i couldn’t help it.” He kisses your forehead, then your cheek before placing a kiss on your lips, pulling back to admire you again, looking way too pleased with himself. You look away, going shy from being called cute, a faint blush appearing on your cheeks. “Whatever..” He almost squealed like an idiot from the sight, pulling you close against him again. “I can’t believe your real.”

“Satoru.” The warning in your voice only made him giggle more. Even though you were annoyed, he couldn’t help but feel a little amused by the whole thing. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry.” He kisses your head once more before finally releasing you.

[revolvingsaturn]

𝜗𝜚 Gojo and your daddy issues

cw: daddy kink (but NOT in an ageplay way!) , reader’s dad is an asshole

more like this

You sort of hate your dad.

Gojo definitely hates your dad.

You’d mentioned the hate offhandedly once, early into your relationship. half-asleep and sitting at the kitchen counter in one of Gojo’s oversized shirts as your feet dangle in the air. Gojo had handed you a glass full of iced coffee, but you didn’t grab it tightly enough and it shattered across the tiles, coffee and ice cubes spilling across the floor. “I’m sorry-“ you panicked immediately, searching for a cloth to mop up the mess, “I’m so so sorry, I didn’t mean to, I-“

“Hey, hey,” he’d frowned, “what’s wrong? It’s just a glass. I’ll buy, like, twelve more anyway.”

“Oh.” You’d flushed, embarrassed. “Sorry. It’s just a response, I guess. My, uh, my dad used to get really mad and yell if I spilt or broke anything. I kind of… don’t like him that much. Sorry if that’s kinda weird, I know I’m probably supposed to like my own dad.”

Gojo blinked slowly, blue eyes narrowed. "There's nothing wrong with you," he said reassuringly, drawing slow circles over your lower back. He looked down at you, still nervously staring at the coffee on the floor like you were ready to cry over it and prepare yourself to be yelled at- and he decided from that day onward that he really, really hates your dad too.

He does it subtly, though. Like the first time he met your dad over dinner at your shared apartment, Gojo’s plate piled high with the myriad of homecooked dishes you’d spent the full day making, including dessert. “This is amazing,” he smiled at you, before turning to your dad. “Don’t you think?”

Your dad nods. “It’s… good. Pass me the salt, please, sweetheart?” You snap up, reaching across to the other side of the table, and your arm crosses atop your dad’s plate in the process. “Don’t be rude,” he snaps lowly, “you know you don’t reach over people’s food. Didn’t I teach you better?”

You smile, tight-lipped and agitated. “Sorry, dad.”

Gojo prods at his salad extra harshly, dressing splashing onto the tomatoes, then casually manages to mention the price of everything in the apartment within the next five minutes as your dad shrinks back while his masculinity is damaged more and more. Gojo waves him off cheerily after an awkward dessert, then sticks his tongue out at the door after it swings shut. You snort, stacking plates next to the soapy sink. “Don’t be immature, Satoru.”

“He’s the immature one.” He rolls his eyes, helping you wash up. “Acting so self righteous,” he hums, kissing your forehead. “I’m glad you didn’t turn out like him, what can I say?”

Gojo treats you so gently it’s embarrassing sometimes, him cooing into your ear about how perfect you are and how you’re easily his favourite thing. Him brushing your hair softly into braids when you’re too tired to do it yourself, him ensuring you feel calm enough around him to shatter a plate onto the tiles and not immediately apologise.

He calms you down when you cry, wrapping you in his strong arms and rocking you back and forth as he lets you know there’s nothing wrong with you. He hates the fact somebody ever made you feel like that in the first place, that there’s something not quite right about you that needs to be fixed. Gojo takes you everywhere, to all the museums your dad wouldn’t and buys you the little trinkets your dad called a stupid waste of space.

Gojo adores watching you get excited around him, too.

“Oh my god, Toru,” you squeal excitedly, “look, look, it’s the exact one I wanted-“ you beam, proudly showing him the little animal keychain you just opened from a blind box. “Oh my gosh, she’s so cute,” you gush, pressing him to look at the little bunny’s fuzzy ears and her tiny dress. “I love her-“

“Yeah?” He smiles, taking your hand in his much larger one. “Tell me more, sweetheart.”

He revels secretly in knowing he makes you feel so safe you can be like this, that it isn’t embarrassing and your emotions won’t be ignored or dismissed with passive-aggressive eye rolls. “Well,” you grin, clipping the bunny onto your house keys where she rests alongside a plethora of other trinkets. “She’s sort of rare. Although, not the rarest, because there’s a secret option you could get too but that one is a bear, and honestly I think it’s not as cute as the bunny so-“

You go on like this for ages, babbling on and practically talking your boyfriend’s ear off as you walk around the local park with his hand in your left and a cute drink he paid for in your right. “Anyway,” you shrug, sipping your drink, “I think the cat is overrated. She’s cute, but why put her in dungarees? She’d look cuter with a parasol, I think. Oh,” you say suddenly, a little embarrassed, “I’m not- I'm not boring you, right?”

Gojo grins brightly and squeezes your hand tighter. “You could never bore me, pretty. Keep going.”

Gojo could sit there for days and listen to you talk about nothing and everything, feet up on his lap as you complain about the latest subplot in your new show. He genuinely listens, asks follow up questions, never once makes you feel awkward or embarrassed for caring about something so trivial.

You’re sat at the counter again over a year after the coffee incident, your shoulder slipping out of the worn neck of Gojo’s old Digimon shirt while your finger draws shapes on the smooth marble beside the fruitbowl.

“Toru, I was thinking, that new bakery opened up down the street yesterday and I know you love sweets-“

Gojo whirls around from the fridge, gasps loudly, and stares at you like you just personally offended his whole lineage. “Toru?”

You frown, confused. “Uh, yes? Isn’t that your name-“

“Nooo,” he grins, walking over to you, “use my other nickname.”

“Baby?” You say nervously. Is there an inside joke you’re forgetting?

“Nope.” He grins evilly, lips brushing your ear. “I liked the one you came up with last night, angel.”

You blush, scandalised, and shove futilely at his chest. Truly, it was an accident, just a little slip of the tongue in a moment of extreme horniness you wish you could snap right back up from his memory.

Your bare tits had been firmly pressed into the dishevelled sheets, marks covering the sensitive skin; Gojo was behind you, big hands carefully holding onto your hips and sliding up to squeeze your waist briefly as your back arched further.

“Does that feel good, baby?” He murmurs, hips delving deeply into your dipping cunt. “Come on, let me hear those cute little sounds I love.” He coos next to your ear.

Your answering response is a garbled moan, a squeaky whimper that draws itself embarrassingly from your lips even despite the pillow shoved into your face. “Yeah,” he whispers, “let me make you feel good, baby. You deserve it all, yeah? Just lie there and take it like the good girl you are, okay?”

Gojo’s voice is as sweet as sugar, coos dripping down into your ears and intoxicating your body so much you truly can’t think of anything else other than the way he’s fucking into you, sliding so deeply and so fully it makes your eyes roll back and your fingers weakly grip the sheets.

“Daddy-“ you choke.

You freeze, hot embarrassment flushing your face as you bury it into the pillows in an attempt to pretend that did not just happen and you did not just call your boyfriend ‘daddy’ like a degenerate pervert freak.

Gojo freezes too, thick cock halfway into your pulsing heat, hands paused on your hips. And then, the biggest grin he’s ever produced cracks glowingly across his face. “What was that, pretty?”

“Nothing.” You say into the pillow, voice muffled. “I didn’t s-say anything.”

“Oh noooo, I think you did, actually.” Your boyfriend gloats happily, his voice singsong, “say it again, or I’m not moving.”

“No!” You cry frustratedly as he starts to slowly slip his dick back out, “okay, fuck, fine.”

Your face burns as your lips open again, voice quiet. “...Daddy.”

“Daddy what?” You’re glad you can’t see his face, but you know exactly what sort of shit-eating grin is plastered along his beautiful face. “Satoru-“

“No, gorgeous, I want you to say it. Say you want me to fuck you.”

You’re almost sick with humiliation, but it stirs something else along with the embarrassment coiling in your tummy. “Please fuck me, daddy.” You say quietly, eyes screwed up like you can pretend you aren’t getting off on the words slipping from your mouth.

Gojo starts moving again, and you squeal as he magically manages to ram every one of your sweet spots in one stroke. “Fuck, baby,” he pants, “I didn’t know you were into that.”

Your moan cracks on a sob. “I didn’t know y-you were into that!”

“Oh, my shy girl,” Gojo croons, kissing your back. “I love anything that comes out of your mouth, you sound so hot saying that, so filthy and worked up for me.” He laughs breathlessly as you shudder and clench around him. “Aww, baby, are you gonna cum for daddy now?”

“Stop-“ you choke, “don’t say it like th-that-“

It’s no use, Gojo just keeps taunting you with it.

“Is daddy going hard enough for you, pretty?”

“So cute stretched out for daddy.”

“Are you gonna cum on daddy’s cock?”

That last one sends you over the edge, the taboo of it all making your head spin and your legs tremble as Gojo collapses right after you, spilling so much cum it manages to overflow right onto the sheets and into his mouth as he drops to his knees to worship you.

Your face burns as you sit at the counter, the memory harsh in your head. “Stop,” you whine, “I didn’t mean to say it, stop.”

“You’re so cute when you’re embarrassed.” Gojo chortles, kissing your temple. “Do it again later?”

You groan and drop your forehead onto the counter.

He’ll bring it up at the most inappropriate times, too, like when you’re on a date and he’ll casually whisper it into your ear until you’re flushing. “Toru, stop with that, we’re in an aquarium.” You protest, walking towards the rockpool exhibit. “I’m not calling you that here.”

The worst time he’s ever done it was when you were storming back to your car after an awkward dinner with your dad where he managed to passive aggressively comment on your outfit, tone of voice, and facial expression in the space of an hour. “I hate him.” You say angrily as Gojo puts his hands onto the steering wheel to drive off. “He’s such an egotistical, self-centred, immature, dickheaded, insensitive-“

“He is.” Gojo soothes, flicking the playlist in the car to one of your favourite songs and the ac up to cool you down as you continue to mindlessly rage about your dad as the city lights flash by the windows of the car.

“But it’s a good job you’ve got a better daddy here, righhhhhtttt?” He grins, patting your thigh. You gasp, scandalised, and swat at his toned arm. “Oh my god, please tell me you didn’t just say that-“

He grins again. “You just have issues that manifest themselves psychosexually, don’t worry about it, sweetheart.” You glare at him. “Oh, so now I have issues just because I like to call you daddy sometimes? Don’t act like you weren’t into me slapping you last week, why don’t we talk about your psychosexual issues, Satoru-“

Gojo laughs, hands in his expensive pockets, as you scold him the whole way to your living room. You’re still muttering silent curses when he tugs you into his arms and kisses your scalp. “I was joking about the issues,” he says, “I know you were pissed. And you should be, you have a right to be. I hate your dad too.”

You sigh and bury your face into his bicep. “I know you do.”

masterlist

a/n: okay mini hiatus for my holiday over! Have a lovely week <3

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[neotoru]

‧₊ ˚⊹ nerdjo eats you out after a long day 18+

note written for this request ! sorry it took so long to get this out again cutie :< i hope you enjoy it!!!! this was sssoooo fun to write thank you sm for requesting it i think by now everyone should be aware that pussy eating is my faaavourite thing to write and read about i may be an addict idk ……

cw oral f receiving

after coming home from a long, stressful day of labs, all you want to do is lie in the warmth of your boyfriend’s embrace. you're in an undeniably bad mood as you slip your shoes and jacket off at the entrance to your shared flat, door slamming shut behind you harder than you expected. your limbs are heavy and fatigued as you trudge your way to the living room to find satoru already there on the couch, flicking through some new book he’s reading. 

“hi baby,” he smiles, putting his book aside and opening his arms to welcome you into them. 

without hesitation, you plop yourself down on to his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. you bury your face into his neck and inhale his scent. it’s comforting after the day you’ve had being surrounded by sweaty, incompetent classmates. 

“long day?” he asks, one hand coming up to caress your back in long strokes. “wanna tell me about it?”

so you do. you tell him about the lab project that you somehow have to complete within the next two weeks with what seems to be the most inept bunch of people you’ve ever had the misfortune of being grouped with. not to mention your lab supervisor who keeps giving you grief for “not taking more charge,” but you are, and he just refuses to see that for some reason. the events of the day weigh on you heavily as you sink further into satoru’s soothing touch. 

“i just wanna forget that today ever happened,” you confess with a sigh. 

gojo hums in acknowledgement. you know he understands—he’s had his fair share of useless lab partners throughout his degree. 

“want me to make you feel better?” he whispers, and you tilt your head back to meet his eyes behind the thick-rimmed glasses he wears. they glimmer with adoration for you. your heart tightens at just how much he cares for your wellbeing. 

“sure,” you nod. “what do you have in mind?” 

he doesn't respond with words, simply lifts you off his lap and settles you into the plush cushions on the sofa. on the cold, hardwood floor, he kneels in front of you and starts to carefully unbutton your jeans. 

you laugh, though it comes out more like a shaky exhale. “you’re gonna eat me out?” 

a pretty pink blush dusts satoru’s cheeks at your words. he pushes his glasses up at the rim, then continues to slide your bottoms down your legs. you raise your hips to give him easier access. once the denim is on the floor, in a heap, next to him, he parts your legs with two large hands and kisses down your burning skin; atop your kneecaps, up to your legs, inside the plush flesh of your inner thighs. you gasp as he presses a light kiss to your clothed heat. your fingers find his hair and you entwine them in the snowy locks, rubbing gentle circles into his scalp. 

“you don't have to do this, you know,” you mumble. 

“shh,” satoru smiles at you. “you've had a long day, baby. let me take care of you.” he presses his nose against the area that he’s memorised to be where your clit is, inhaling deeply. his tongue darts out experimentally against your panties, which are slowly getting wetter by the second. he presses the muscle into you, rocking it side to side against your sensitive bud. 

“toru—” you’re already whimpering at the contact that you didn't even realise you were craving so desperately, hips twitching up into him. your body can't hide how much you want this. 

and where, usually, your boyfriend would take his sweet time teasing you through your underwear, he takes pity on you today (thank god), and he hooks two fingers into your panties and pulls them off of you. as he parts your sticky folds with two long fingers, he’s met with the tantalising sight of your dripping hole. 

“so pretty,” he breathes out. “needed this, huh?” 

“mhm— fuck!” your initial train of thought is interrupted when satoru licks a thick strip up your entire pussy, his eyes fluttering shut as you whine out in pleasure. his tongue is warm and wet and so so relaxing. you can feel your entire body melt into the sofa, head lolling back onto the cushions as you unconsciously spread your legs further apart for him. 

“you did so well today,” he mumbles into you as the pads of his fingertips press into the skin on your legs, pulling you closer to his mouth. “you always do.” 

you moan at his praise—it’s so simple, but it means so much to you to hear those words. his tongue continues to explore your dewy folds, dipping into your entrance then coming back up to draw lazy patterns on your clit. your hole flutters around nothing as your back arches into the air. your fingers grip his hair tighter, hips bucking up and rocking into his mouth.

“fuck, satoru—ngh—feels so good,” you mewl out and he groans into your sopping cunt. 

gojo pulls away for a second and you whine at the loss of contact. he chuckles, the lower half of his face glossy with a mixture of your slick and his saliva. his glasses are fogged up at the bottom, slipping down the bridge of his nose. “my clever girl,” he dives back into your sweetness. “they don't know how hard you work.” 

you’re now squirming underneath him, thighs quivering as hot bliss coils up in your belly and tightens infinitely, threatening to burst at any moment. 

“toru—” you gasp. “‘m close already—” 

he chuckles into your skin, the low vibrations rippling through your entire body. “hold on a little longer, baby. can you do that for me?”

you nod dumbly, panting. gojo’s tongue is delicious, working against you languidly, though still as meticulous as always. he eats you out until you’re babbling nonsense and your mind is going blank because all you can think about is his tongue and his touch and satoru satoru satoru. all the while, he’s praising you, telling you how he’s proud of you, how they don't know what they're talking about, how you’re doing sooo well for him. your head is spinning with desire and, as you look down at him between your legs, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he takes his time with you, your orgasm crashes over you in full force. 

his name clings to you like sticky-sweet honey, dripping from your lips as your thighs clamp together around his head. though, he doesn't let up, not even when you’re crying out, no. his tongue is relentless on your cunt, licking you through your orgasm until you literally have to push his head away from your core. 

you sit in the post-orgasm daze for a few minutes as your boyfriend comes to sit next to you, gently rubbing up and down the outside of your leg. 

“thank you,” you look at him when you return to your senses. “i needed that.” 

satoru smiles sheepishly as if his face wasn't just buried deep into your pussy a couple of minutes ago. he leans over and kisses your lips tenderly. “i’ll do anything for you, baby.” he removes his glasses and uses the edge of his nail to gently scrape off your arousal that is currently dried up on the underside of the black rim. 

“ew,” you scrunch your nose up at the sight. “that is so gross.” 

satoru’s head jerks up as if you had personally offended him. “don’t ever say that again,” he shakes his head, sighing. he runs his middle finger up your still-sensitive pussy to collect your slick, and you wince at the sensation. “this—” he sucks his finger clean, “--is the sweetest thing i’ve ever tasted.” 

you scoff at his melodramatic statement. if satoru is anything, he is hopelessly into you. 

“i love you.” you nudge his shoulder gently. 

“i love you more, baby,” he puts his frames back on. “wanna go again?”

masterlist

note cleaning dried juices off frames is a very real thing that my glasses-wearing-munch-gf has to deal with sorry baby <3

perm taglist @kawpd @megssleepygirl @kuromiispunk @vanillaapples @unbuttonedratio @swvness @kelesupersecret @jjkklav @yxo7 @hiraxh

gojo taglist @storuhrts

written for a request from @fushigummy <3

[kaliraees]

𝒮atoru keeps you bent over, taking his time while his eyes stay fixed on the mirror..watching every needy, dazed expression you make..

1.0k words, quick read 𝑓𝑡. byf!toru ( +18 )

Satoru had you bent over the edge of the bed, one hand splayed between your shoulder blades keeping you down, the other locked around your hip. The mirror across the room caught everything ; your face half-buried in the sheets, mouth open, eyes glassy. He watched himself fuck into you, slow and deep at first, then harder when your thighs started shaking.

“Look at you,” he murmured, voice low and rough with that cocky edge he never bothered hiding. “Can’t even keep your eyes open. You’re taking it so fucking well.”

You made a soft, broken sound, more whine than word, fingers twisting in the blanket. He rolled his hips and bottomed out, grinding there just to feel you clench around him. Your reflection showed the exact second the pleasure hit, lips parting wider, a dazed little flutter of your lashes.

“There it is.” He pulled almost all the way out and snapped back in, the sound wet and sharp in the quiet room. “That face. I could watch it all night.”

You tried to push back against him, needy, but he controlled the pace completely. Every thrust forced another soft, high noise out of you. He leaned over your back, chest warm against your skin, and reached around to cup your chin, tipping your face up toward the mirror.

“Open your eyes for me babe.”

You did, slow and heavy-lidded. The sight of yourself, flushed, messy, completely taken made you clench hard around him. He groaned under his breath and fucked into you harder, the hand on your hip tightening until you felt the bruise forming.

“.. You love this uh ? Love getting bent over and used while I stare at how pretty you look when you’re falling apart.”

“Sa..toru—” Your voice cracked on his name, half plea, half complaint. You sounded wrecked already, needy and spaced out.

He chuckled, and slowed down just enough to make you whimper in protest. “What? You want it faster? Harder? Use your words, baby. I know you can.”

You shook your head against the mattress, hips trying to chase him. “Please… just—don’t stop—”

“Not stopping sweetheart.” He drove in deep again, the force of it rocking you forward. His free hand slid down your stomach and found your clit, circling slow and deliberate while he kept thrusting. “Not when you sound like that. Not when you’re this wet for me.”

Your arms gave out. You dropped fully onto the bed, face turned to the side so you could still see the mirror. He followed you down without missing a beat, covering you, fucking you into the mattress. Every stroke punched soft, desperate noises out of your throat. He watched the whole time, your open mouth, the way your eyes kept rolling back, the helpless little trembles that ran through you every time he hit that spot just right.

“That’s it,” he breathed against your ear. “You’re doing so fucking good for me.”

You were past coherent answers, reduced to soft, continuous whines and the occasional broken “please.” He kept the pressure on your clit steady, thrusts deep and relentless, until your whole body went tight under him. The orgasm hit hard, your reflection showed it clearly, the way your face crumpled, mouth falling open on a silent cry before the sound finally tore free.

He didn’t stop. He fucked you through it, slower now but still deep, riding the aftershocks until you were shaking and oversensitive, pushing weakly at his hip. Only then did he pull out, turn you onto your back, and push back in facing you. Your legs wrapped around him automatically. He braced over you, blue eyes half-lidded and smug, and started moving again, gentler this time, rolling into you while he watched every flicker of expression on your face up close.

“Still with me?” he asked, voice softer but still teasing.

You nodded, dazed, hands sliding up his arms. “Mmm… just—just slow for a second..”

“Got you.” He kissed the corner of your mouth, then deeper, swallowing the soft sounds you made. His hips kept a steady, deep rhythm, not rushing. One hand stroked your hair back from your face. “But you’re so fucking beautiful like this. Completely gone on my cock.”

You let out a quiet, needy whimper against his lips. He smiled into the next kiss, still moving, still watching you like you were the only thing in the room worth looking at.

“Gonna make you cum again princess,” he promised, low and certain. “Then maybe I’ll let you rest. Maybe..”

You didn’t argue. You just held on, legs tightening around him, already drifting back under the slow, relentless pleasure he was feeding you.

᭡ kali’s notes ⸻I think I’m a little obsessed with writing about him right now... He’s so much fun to write about him! Butttt anyway, I hope you liked it mwahh !

© kɑlirɑees 2026. ɑll works belong to me. do not trɑnslɑte, edit, repost, copy, or feed into generɑtive ɑi.

[aliienangel]

( ⸝⸝´ ᵕ `⸝⸝) 　　gσנσ ѕαтσяυ has big hands 　 　　 　　 　　 　　 　　 　　 　　 　⌗ ゛　 　mdni

gojo has big fucking hands man.... and he loves using them to grope you, watching his hands dig into your skin. grinning to himself when he realises you get off on just how big they are in comparison to you.

first having the realisation when you compare hands with him, textbook flirting that he probably wouldn't even catch if you hadn't been a little too interested in it. in awe over just how long and thick his fingers are.

it only escalates from there, those hands grabbing at your thighs, tits. then before you know it, he's knuckle deep inside your gooey cunt and cooing at you teasingly, "still like my fingers, sweetie?" canines showing in his satisfied smile at how your walls twitch, "yeah, you love them, don't you?"

caressing all your weakest spots repeatedly, able to reach deeper than you ever could. and his heart is hammering in his chest because you're leaking into his palm and down his wrist so saccharine sweet. pussy drooling for his fingers, loving everything he's doing to you.

gojo uses his free hand to shove two of his digits past your lips, you take them all too willingly. tongue licking between the fingers as you suck on them. a moan rumbles through gojo at it, more aware of his dick now than he had been before.

"you're so cute like this," he praises, "you gonna cum on my fingers?" placing his thumb under your chin while his fingers are still in your mouth, and leveraging that hold to nod your head yes in response.

[pillsatoru]

𝜗ৎ making satoru hard always leads to one thing

Gojo never understood what personal space meant. Well, not when it came to you.

No one batted an eye because everyone just assumed he was already your boyfriend from the constant touching and the way his hands naturally found yours to hold onto while walking in the school's hallways.

From the moment you two met, he’s been all over you. His nose always pressed against your neck, whispering about how good you smelt. Legs pressing up against yours when you were seated, hand rubbing at the inside of your thigh. His personal favorite was having his head on your lap, face in stomach, idly tracing patterns on your skin as your hands ran through his snowy white hair.

Which would eventually lead to him rearranging your guys. Because that’s what best friends do.

You gently knocked on his door, opening to stick your head inside. “Hi Satoru!” You chirped, making your way inside. Gojo groaned from his bed, being stripped down to only his boxers, scratching at his stomach.

“Hey..” He watched the way you moved to be over him, wrapping your arms around his waist, head pressed on his chest. “I’ve missed you all day, sweets. How was your day, hm?” He whispered, nudging his nose against your temple.

“It was fine. The lab kicked my ass though.” You pouted, thinking back to five minutes ago when you kept messing up the chemicals. “Thank god Shoko was there.”

Gojo hummed, moving his touch to your waist. You two knew this was far too intimate for a friendship, not like either of you cared though. “Shit..” he grunted, feeling his cock begin to twitch. “You’re making me hard.”

You chuckled, kissing his jaw without paying any mind to his hand that was slipping underneath your shorts. “Oops!”

“Is that all you gotta say? Toru junior is begging for your touch.” Gojo whined, gripping hardly at the flesh of your ass. That made you accidentally shift on his lap, giving him a small grind. “Fuck.”

“You better take care of this.”

“I don’t feel like it.” You teased, dragging a finger up and down the sharp lines of his face. “Just jerk off or something.” You moved off his lap, making him furrow his eyebrows. Unfortunately, you didn’t get far before his hands gripped your waist, pulling you harshly back down enough to feel his bulge.

“I said, fix this, sweets.”

And when your best friend begs like that, it’s hard to say no.

“Oh!”

“That’s it, feel every inch.” Gojo coo’ed lowly, pecking at your cheeks. Your hips couldn’t catch a break with every thrust they made.

Your ass recoiled in his hands, cheeks fully spread to help his cock slide in and out. “F-fuck.” Your eyes fluttered shut, grasping onto his shoulders. Gojo grinned, pounding in harder to pound his pretty pink tip right where you needed him the most.

He’s contemplated disregarding condoms, wanting to feel you fully. But seeing the way he still managed to ruin you regardless, he learned to lay it no mind. You swear every time you have sex with him, your mind goes completely blank, only being able to remember his name.

“Sa-satoruuu..” His vein scraped against your walls, balls slapping up at your hole. Your bodies were intertwined, fitting together like a puzzle.

You hugged him close, drooling onto his chest at every thrust he delivered. His hands dug possessively into your thighs, biting back groans. “Missed this so fucking much.” He said before smashing his lips against yours, tongue diving into your mouth. “Missed this pretty cunt.”

“W-we ngh.. we fucked yesterday..” You whined.

“Yeah, it’s been a full day, sweets. That’s sooo long.” He didn’t let go of you for even a second, rubbing your hole in circles teasingly while watching every expression displayed on your face.

“I’ve got this event coming up, need to bring an extra with me.” He said in between kisses. “Come with me.”

“Is it that damn- f-fuck..” You hated when he would try and converse during sex. It was almost impossible to finish a full sentence without moaning.

“Dinner with other interns? Yeah.”

“But.. it’s usually the partners they b-bring with..”

“So?” He flipped you two over, not stopping his thrusts, laying you underneath him. “You’re basically my girlfriend already, taking my big fat cock..”

You chuckled, cupping his cheeks. “Big?”

“Oh?” He tilted his head to the side, slipping out of you with an embarrassingly wet sound. His hard length sprung free, hitting at your folds. “You don’t think it’s big?”

Of course he was. The thing itself weighed a gazillion pounds and barely fit inside you to begin with. “I’ve seen bigger.”

“I’m the only one you fuck around with.” He corrected, gripping the base of his cock before plummeting right back in. “Did you get tighter, princess?”

“N-no!”

Gojo chuckled softly, rocking his hips at the same pace they were going at five seconds ago. He leaned down to capture your lips in another searing kiss, swallowing every whimper. “You’re coming?”

“Yes! Ngh fuck m’close!”

“No, pretty.” He snorted, pecking your nose. “I meant to the event, as my girl.”

His voice held such softness that was only used on you, no one else. The way he said it, calling you his girl, made your stomach flip. And it wasn’t because his cock was scarily reaching up there or anything.

“Mhm!” You nodded. Gojo’s lips curled into a grin that you loved seeing so much, the one he always wore right before wrecking you. Without warning, he snapped forward in a powerful thrust, gasping when you clenched down on him.

He didn’t stop, continuing to fuck you until the bedframe creaked like it was about to give out. His muscles flexed under the lighting, hips still pistoning relentlessly as one hand reached up under your shirt to squeeze your breast. “Forgot to pay attention to my girls, I’m sorry babies.”

“You-You’re insane—“

“I know, but I did just make you cum either way didn’t I?” He asked, moving his mouth to bite down your shoulder, trying his best to muffle his moaning as he spilled in you. The condom caught everything, yet you could still feel the sudden warmth emerge.

The room fell silent, only your heavy breaths being heard. Gojo shook in your hold, not yet making a move to pull out. Instead, his large hands cupped your cheeks to wipe away any sweat or tears.

“Go get changed then. We’ve got a dinner to attend.”

art by @/yuannaoi

[gojosconsort]

︵ ೀ mdni. satoru likes to get choked by you

“harder.”

your hand rests loosely around the base of satoru’s throat, more unintentional than intention, but the second the word leaves his mouth you stop.

you freeze for half a second, hips stopping where they are straddling him, but he doesn’t let you pull away. his much larger hand covers yours, pressing your fingers tighter against the sides of his neck and encouraging you to increase the pressure.

his snowy hair is a wild mess on the pillow. color burns high in his cheeks, and his bright blue eyes turn glassy as he stares up at you. his chest rises and falls quickly as you apply slow pressure, feeling his pulse race beneath your palm.

“fuck… yeah, just like that.”

his hips push upward, driving deeper inside you and stretching you open with each thrust. a broken moan slips from his lips when you add more pressure.

“use me,” he breathes. “use my throat, baby. choke me while you ride me.”

you lean forward, bracing more of your weight on the hand around his throat, and his eyes flutter. another gorgeous broken moan spills out as you squeeze harder. his hands grip your hips tighter, fingers digging into your skin as he helps you move faster, deeper.

“shit— that’s it. fuck, you look so pretty choking me out. don’t stop. ruin me. i want bruises tomorrow.”

every roll of your hips makes him groan louder, the sounds getting breathier the tighter you hold. his throat bobs under your palm with every swallowed gasp. you have never seen him like this, so eager to be used, and it makes you dizzy.

“harder, baby. make me yours,” he pants. he presses your hand tighter against his neck. “i’m so fucking close—use me. choke me while i come.”

[to00fu]

itadori brothers who looks up to their oldest

[neotoru]

‧₊ ˚⊹ gojo lets his shy gf ride him on the couch 18+

note written for this request ! sorry it took so long to get out anon, hope u enjoy <33

cw pinv riding, creampie

you never usually get like this. but for some reason you've just been desperately horny all day. all you can think about is satoru’s dick filling you up, splitting you open and hitting all those right spots. and you know he’d be more than happy to help you out—the both of you have just been chilling at home since the morning—but the only thing is that you're far too nervous to ask him straight up. your boyfriend always has the bravery to initiate intimacy with you, but for some reason you never have enough confidence to be the one to ask first. 

so, today, as you're practically aching to be touched, you decide to pluck up the courage and just ask him. entering the living room, you see him slouched on the sofa scrolling mindlessly through his phone, blindfold flush against his eyes. all he's wearing are his plaid pyjama bottoms sitting low on his hips, the waistband of his boxers peeking out over the hem. the sight of his torso in all its muscled glory as he sits there, so relaxed, makes your thighs squeeze together unconsciously. 

sitting down next to him, you rest your head on his shoulder. satoru smiles, putting his phone down and snaking his arm around you. 

“how’s your day been, baby?” he adjusts himself so he’s facing more towards you. 

you mumble something in response, though you're not even quite sure what you said yourself—something about being a little frustrated, maybe. he kisses you softly on your temple and asks you if you need anything from him. you do, you so desperately do. you want him buried deep inside you, and you want to tell him that. but something inside you makes the words halt in their track. you swallow them down, chickening out. 

“no,” you shake your head lightly. “just wanted to sit with you. carry on with what you were doing.” 

he chuckles, reaching for his phone again to resume his scroll. on the other hand, you try your utmost best to will away the throbbing ache between your legs. but nothing is helping; your mind is hazy with the thought of bouncing on satoru’s thick cock. 

you curl up more into his side, one hand trailing up to stroke his fuzzy undercut whilst the other roams across the bare skin of his firm shoulder. 

gojo cocks his head to the side. “you sure you don't want anything from me?” 

“yeah,” you gulp down your lust. “i’m sure, just getting comfy.” 

“oookay…” he drawls out, not totally convinced of your words. 

you need some way to signal to him what you want without directly saying it out loud. so, you take it upon yourself to shift even closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and nuzzling your face into him. you inhale his scent—clean, minty, satoru. the smell of him only makes you wetter, your panties getting more soaked by the second. 

“satoruuu…” you mumble into his skin. 

“whats up, baby?” he puts his phone down once again.

your primal hunger for him clouds your vision and you finally push aside your nerves, deciding to be bold. you swing one leg over him and straddle his lap, hands tangling in his snowy locks. beneath you, you can feel him already getting hard, so you grind down a little. 

he doesn't flinch. “hm? thought you said you didn't need anything?” there’s a teasing lilt to his voice and you're sure he's being purposefully oblivious. there’s no way he hasn’t realised what you're asking for, right now. not with the way you're practically all over him. 

you whine a little, though you don't mean to, getting more frustrated by the second. satoru just laughs, placing his large hands on your waist. you pout at him, your hands braced against his warm chest. if he wanted you to be more direct, so be it. hooking one finger into the hem of his blindfold, you tug it up gently, the dark fabric pushing his hair up on his forehead. 

now, with no blindfold between you, your eyes meet his. they're blown wide; where there was once a ring of crystalline blue, there is now pitch black desire. 

“what do you want, baby?” he whispers, kissing your cheek lightly. “use your words.” 

your skin feels hot with embarrassment, but you don't know why. this is satoru, your satoru. your wonderful partner who waits on your every beck and call, and would drop a mission halfway through if you asked him to come home. 

“want you…” your voice is meeker than you would have hoped, trailing off at the end. 

he smirks. “can't hear you, sweets. speak up.”

“i want you, satoru.” you grind down on him again. “want you to fuck me. been thinking about it all day.” another grind. this time, he hisses through his teeth at the sensation.

at your words, he loses all previous semblance of restraint, pulling you towards him and crashing his lips against yours. the kiss is hot, all tongue and teeth and raw passion. it’s messy and when he pulls away, his lips are shiny and plump. in one motion, he’s already shoved both his pyjamas and his boxers halfway down his legs. as his dick springs out, it’s already flushed red and leaking. it looks like it hurts. 

gojo pulls your flimsy sleep shorts to the side, along with your damp panties, and runs two fingers through your sticky folds. 

“fuck— so wet already,” he breathes out. “should have just come to me earlier, baby.” 

you whimper at the contact that you've been craving so badly all day. then, without delay, he lines himself up with your needy entrance and pushes in. you moan out in pleasure. the stretch is wonderful—you feel so full. in the daze of bliss, you begin to rock your hips back and forth. satoru holds you tightly, guiding you with his hands, head lolling back onto the cushions behind him. 

“haah— yeah, that’s it— show me how much you needed me,” he exhales under his breath. “fuck yourself on my cock, baby.” 

you're panting, now, inner thighs burning. the room is dank with sweat and slick, the sound of wet skin hitting skin echoing in your ears. satoru’s hips are bucking up into you and he’s groaning, your name a mantra on his lips. 

“satoru—ngh—feels so good.”

“yeah?” he teases. “you’re so pretty, my needy girl.” 

at his praise, you feel yourself begin to unravel at the seams. you're both sweaty, but it feels so good that you couldn't care less about the mess you're making on him, pussy squelching and creaming around his length. 

soon, he’s grunting and you're whining out, your orgasm building up inside of you with such ferocity that you're buckling at the waist, forehead falling against satoru’s. 

“toru—” you choke on a moan. “gonna—hah—cum—”

he doesn't say anything, just groans in response, and you know he’s close, too. after a couple more bounces up and down, you're coming undone on him, velvety walls clamping down around his dick, which twitches inside of you as he spills into you. 

as you come back to reality, satoru’s arms hold you tight. you rest your head against his flushed skin, looking up at him through your lashes. he’s already smiling down at you.

“next time,” he grins from ear to ear, pecking you on the forehead. “all you have to do is ask, sweets.”

masterlist

perm taglist @kawpd @megssleepygirl @kuromiispunk @vanillaapples @unbuttonedratio @swvness @kelesupersecret @jjkklav

gojo taglist @storuhrts

[tays-writing]

NSFW. boyfriend!satoru just can’t stop playing with your tits

The very first time you slept with Satoru, you immediately knew he was a certified tit guy.

He’d spent what felt like forever massaging them, sucking on your nipples, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh—completely lost in it—while you were practically throbbing and dying for him to finally fuck you.

Two years later, nothing had changed. If anything, he’d only gotten worse.

He touched them every single chance he got: insisting on showering together just so he could lather your breasts with slippery soap and play with them under the hot water, absentmindedly teasing your nipples when he slung an arm around your shoulders on the couch, and even sucking melted ice cream straight off them like it was the most natural thing in the world.

But your ovulation week? That was his absolute favorite.

Your tits always swelled up—rounder, heavier, impossibly more sensitive. And today was one of those days.

It was stupidly hot, so you’d skipped the bra entirely and thrown on your usual lazy outfit at home: tiny sleep shorts and a thin, loose tank top with spaghetti straps.

You hadn’t thought twice about it… until you felt Satoru’s gaze burning into you.

“Fuck,” he breathed, mouth hanging open, eyes glued to your chest. “They’re practically spilling out over the edge of that little top, baby.”

Before you could even respond, he closed the distance in five long strides. One large hand settled possessively on your waist, pulling you flush against him, while the other boldly traced slow, reverent circles over the full, heavy curve of your breast.

“Goddamn,” he muttered, voice already husky. “Look at you. So fucking full today.”

His thumb brushed over your nipple through the thin fabric, and it stiffened instantly, sending a sharp jolt of heat straight between your legs. A low, satisfied sound rumbled in his chest.

He didn’t wait for permission. He never really did when it came to your tits. In one smooth motion, he tugged the strap of your tank top down your shoulder, freeing one breast completely. The cool air hit your heated skin, making your nipple tighten even more.

Satoru’s eyes darkened with hunger.

He leaned in and dragged the flat of his tongue over it slowly, savoring the way you shivered. Then he latched on, sucking greedily while his hand continued kneading the soft, overflowing flesh of your other breast.

You could feel how hard he already was against your stomach

He pulled back just enough to speak, lips glistening, voice wrecked. “C’mere. I need both of them in my mouth.”

Without warning, he scooped you up like you weighed nothing and carried you to the couch, dropping down with you straddling his lap. He yanked the other strap down, fully exposing your chest, and buried his face between your tits with a deep, contented groan.

His hands never stopped moving—squeezing, pushing them together, thumbs flicking over your sensitive peaks as he alternated between sucking and licking like a man starved.

You were getting so turned on watching him play with your tits that you didn’t think twice. You slid off his lap, dropped to your knees in front of him, and eagerly pulled his pants down just enough to free his cock. It sprang out, hard and flushed, already glistening at the tip. The sight made your mouth water.

You could feel yourself getting wetter by the second, your body burning with need, the heat intensified by your ovulation.

“Oh god, you’re gonna spoil me rotten baby” he said softly, almost in awe as you pressed your swollen tits around his length.

You pushed them together tightly, enveloping him in soft, warm flesh. Then, looking up at him, you parted your lips and let your tongue hang out obediently, waiting.

“Fuck— that’s it,” he moaned, eyes darkening. “Such a good girl.”

He started thrusting slowly between your breasts, savoring every slide. With each upward thrust, the flushed head of his cock brushed against your waiting tongue, leaving a trail of salty precum on it.

“You’re getting so turned on, aren’t you?” he murmured, voice sweet and filthy at the same time. “I can see it in your eyes…Bet you’re already soaking those little shorts for me.”

He kept a steady rhythm, fucking your tits while his hands gently squeezed and played with them, thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples and your own hands.

“Feels so fucking good… warm and soft,” he groaned, hips stuttering a little when the tip of his cock dragged across your tongue again. “You drive me crazy.”

Your cheeks were flushed, thighs pressing together as the ache between your legs grew stronger. Every thrust made you wetter, your body throbbing with need while he used your heavy, sensitive breasts exactly how he wanted.

Satoru’s breathing grew heavier, his thrusts a little faster, but he held back, clearly trying not to cum yet. He wanted to save it for your pussy.

“C’mon, baby,” he rasped, voice rough with desire. “I’ll fuck you nice and deep just like you need.”

He suddenly stood up, lifting you effortlessly into his arms. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you toward the bedroom, kissing you hungrily on the way. His hard cock pressed against your soaked shorts with every step.

Once he laid you down on the bed, he pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes dark and full of lust.

“I’m gonna cum so much inside you…” he murmured against your lips, voice low and filthy, “I’ll fill you up until it takes.”

You whimpered at his words, a rush of heat flooding your body as you imagined it — your belly swelling, your tits growing even bigger and heavier, and Satoru being even more obsessed with them, sucking and fucking them while you were pregnant.

He smirked, noticing the way your thighs squeezed together.

“Yeah? You like that idea, don’t you?” he teased, sliding his hand between your legs. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll make sure to abuse these pretty tits even more when they’re full of milk.”

I needed to get this out of my system

masterlist

[tays-writing]

NSFW. husband!Satoru can’t keep his mouth off his pregnant wife’s tits | kinda part two of this one

You woke up to a heavy, delicious warmth pooling over your chest and a sharp, frantic tug of pleasure rippling straight down to your core. 

You didn’t even need to open your eyes to know what was happening. It was just past dawn, and Satoru was at it again.

Satoru had always been an obsessive man. Completely devoted to you. But at six months pregnant, your body had become his personal religion. Your belly was round, heavy, and undeniably prominent beneath the sheets, but your tits? They had easily doubled in size — full, aching, and constantly leaking thick, sweet droplets of early milk.

And Satoru was practically feral for it.

He had one large hand firmly cupped around the underside of your right breast, shoving the overflowing flesh upward, while his mouth was clamped greedily over your left nipple. He was sucking with a desperate, rhythmic hunger, his tongue flicking expertly over the sensitive peak as he swallowed every drop you produced.

“Mmmh…”

A soft, breathless moan slipped past your lips as you shifted lazily against the mattress. Your core was already slick and throbbing, soaked through your underwear, just from the way his mouth worked over you. You were so damn used to this by now. Ever since you’d started leaking a few weeks ago, waking up to Satoru nursing on you like a starving man had become your absolute favorite daily routine.

You reached down, fingers tangling in his thick, snow-white hair, and gently gripped a handful of it, pulling his head just a fraction closer to keep him locked against your skin.

Satoru let out a muffled, appreciative growl against your chest. His free hand slid down your body, lingering possessively over the curve of your belly before continuing lower. He grabbed your ass, palm spreading wide and squeezing the soft cheek in a slow, claiming grip that made you arch into him.

He pulled his mouth off your nipple with a loud, wet pop, leaving the skin slick, red, and glistening with saliva. He looked up at you from between your tits, blue eyes blown wide and dark with lust. A thin, milky drop was smeared across his lower lip; he swiped his tongue over it lazily, grinning like a sinner.

“Morning, baby” he rasped, his morning voice thick, gravelly, and entirely wrecked. “Did I wake my favorite mommy?”

“Shut up,” you breathed, a hot blush rushing to your cheeks, though your hips automatically bucked up a fraction against the mattress, chasing the phantom friction. “You’re insatiable.”

“Look at you,” he murmured, ignoring your complaint entirely as his gaze dropped right back to your heavy breasts. He squeezed the right one firmly. “Look how swollen and heavy they get every morning. You’re leaking all over yourself again, baby. So ready for daddy.”

“God, Satoru…” you moaned, your fingers tightening just a bit in his hair, guiding him back down. “Stop talking and just eat.”

He didn’t need to be told twice.

With a low, wicked laugh, he dove straight back in. This time he didn’t hold back. He switched to the other breast, sucking so hard and deep that a sharp, exquisite jolt of heat speared straight through your body, making your toes curl. Then, suddenly, he slowed. 

He pulled back just enough to drag the flat of his tongue in a long, deliberate stroke from the underside of your breast all the way up to the nipple. Slow. Thorough. Obsessive. He did it again, and again, catching every fresh bead of milk that welled up and swirling his tongue around the peak before sucking it clean.

The wet, smacking sounds of him nursing echoed loudly in the quiet bedroom, mixed with your ragged, needy breathing.

“Fuck, you taste so sweet,” he muttered against your skin, his words vibrating right through your chest. “Drinking straight from the source… knowing my baby is growing in there—it drives me out of my goddamn mind.”

His hand slipped beneath the elastic of your sleep shorts, his long fingers parting your wet folds with zero hesitation. When his middle finger pressed directly against your dripping, ultra-sensitive clit, you let out a sharp gasp, your back arching off the mattress.

“So fucking wet,” Satoru praised, his voice dropping into that filthy, hypnotic register that always made your brain short-circuit. “Look how soaked you are just from me sucking on your tits, sweetheart. You’re a dripping mess. You want daddy’s thick milk inside you again, don't you? Want me to milk these big, heavy tits dry and then fill mommy’s pretty pussy right after?”

“Yes—Satoru, please, fuck, right there—” you stammered, your hips grinding mindlessly against his fingers as he began moving them in fast, tight, relentless circles over your clit while his mouth stayed locked on your breast, sucking hard and deep. 

The way his mouth greedily drained your swollen breasts while his fingers rubbed your clit without mercy was entirely too much. Your vision blurred at the edges. Your belly felt heavy and warm, your tits aching with a sweet, burning pressure that begged to be touched harder, sucked harder, used more.

“Ahh– I’m gonna cum” 

It hit you fast. Your thighs clamped around his wrist as the first orgasm crashed through you — sharp, sudden, and overwhelming. A broken cry tore from your throat while your clit pulsed wildly under his fingers. 

He kept sucking and rubbing you through every wave, milking the climax out of you until you were trembling and gasping his name.

“Satoru—fuck me, please. I need more”

Only then did he lift his head, his lips swollen, flushed, and glistening, breath hot against your skin as he crawled up your body. He pressed his hard, heavy length against your thigh.

“Open your legs wider for me, baby,” he commanded, his voice dark with absolute authority.

You parted your knees immediately, wrapping your legs around his waist as he loomed over your rounded belly, looking down at you like you were the only thing that mattered in the entire world—and the dirtiest, most delicious fantasy he’d ever laid hands on.

“You’re carrying my baby, your belly is round and heavy, your tits are practically overflowing with milk, you just came all over my fingers and now you’re begging me to ruin you,” he whispered fiercely, freeing his cock before pressing the blunt head right against your entrance. One large hand settled gently over the curve of your stomach, stroking it with slow, reverent caresses even as his cock nudged deeper. “You belong to me so completely it’s sick. Spread those legs wider, let me see my big-bellied, milk-leaking girl take every single inch of this.”

He pushed in carefully —slow, controlled, mindful of the six-month bump—until he was fully seated inside you. The stretch punched a broken moan from your throat. Satoru’s forehead dropped against yours for a second, breathing hard, while his hand kept stroking over your belly in soft, continuous circles.

“That’s it… take daddy nice and deep,” he murmured, starting to move in long, careful thrusts. “Feel how full you are? My cock in this tight little pussy, my baby growing right here under my hand… and these perfect, leaking tits just waiting for me to empty them again.”

He fucked you like that—deep, steady, almost worshipful—until your thighs started shaking. Every time he bottomed out he pressed a little firmer against your belly, like he needed the constant reminder of what he’d put inside you.

“Gonna fill mommy up,” he growled against your mouth, voice cracking with restraint. “You want that, baby?”

“Yes, Satoru — fuck — I want to be so full of cum I’ll feel it for days. Want another baby in me the second this one comes out.”

Something in him snapped.

The careful, worshipful thrusts turned sharp and deep. Satoru braced one hand beside your head and the other stayed locked over your swollen belly, fingers spread wide like he needed to feel every jolt of his cock slamming into you. His hips snapped forward harder, wet and filthy, the sound of skin meeting skin echoing through the room mixed with the soft, rhythmic slap of your heavy tits bouncing with every thrust.

“Fuck—look at you,” he panted, blue eyes almost black. “Six months pregnant, tits leaking, and still begging for more of my cum. So fucking greedy for it”

He drove in deeper, angling so the thick head of his cock dragged hard against that swollen spot inside you on every stroke. Your nails dug into his shoulders. 

“Satoru—oh god—”

“That’s it. Take it. Take every fucking inch while you carry my baby.” His voice was wrecked, desperate. “Gonna pump you so full it drips down your thighs for the rest of the day. Gonna keep you dripping and swollen and marked as mine.”

His filthy words pushed you toward the edge faster and faster, your second orgasm building with every one that left his mouth. 

One hand left your belly only long enough to shove two fingers into your mouth; you sucked them greedily while he watched, eyes wild. When he pulled them free he smeared the spit over one leaking nipple and pinched it, making you whimper.

“Feel how deep I am?” he snarled, thrusting so hard the headboard knocked the wall. “Feel my cock stretching this pregnant pussy open? You’re gonna come on it. You’re gonna milk me with those tight little walls”

Your belly tightened under his palm. Your thighs shook violently around his waist. The wet, filthy sounds of him pounding into you filled the room.

“Satoru—I’m gonna—fuck, I’m—”

“Come,” he ordered, voice breaking. “Come on daddy’s cock, baby—please”

You shattered with a broken, high cry, walls clamping down around him so hard he cursed. Your whole body jerked and pulsed beneath him. Satoru didn’t last another three thrusts. He slammed in to the hilt and came with a raw, animal sound — thick, hot pulses flooding you so deep it made your stomach tighten. He kept grinding through it, forcing every drop inside while his hand stayed pressed over your belly like he was holding both of you together.

He stayed buried, panting against your neck, hips still giving tiny, involuntary thrusts as the last spurts left him. Cum was already starting to leak out around his cock, warm and messy between your thighs.

Only then did the urgency finally melt away. Satoru's breathing gradually steadied. He pressed a lingering kiss to the side of your neck, then another beneath your jaw before carefully slipping out and rolling onto his side, making sure not to put any weight on your stomach. His hand found the gentle curve of your belly almost immediately, thumb tracing slow, absentminded circles over your skin.

“You okay, baby?” he asked quietly, brushing a loose strand of hair away from your face. His blue eyes searched yours, all concern now. “Did I go too hard? Need some water? Want me to clean you up?”

A sleepy laugh escaped you. You cupped his cheek, your thumb grazing along his jaw as he instinctively leaned into your touch.

“You switch from absolute pervert to worried husband and soon-to-be dad so fast it's honestly impressive.” you teased, still catching your breath. “Wasn’t I your cock slut like... five seconds ago?”

Satoru’s lips twitched. He caught your wrist and pressed a kiss to your palm.

“You know I’d never call you that.”

“Maybe you should” you murmured with a grin.

“Oh my god,” he mumbled. “My wife is filthy.”

“Says you.”

“I know! That’s why I'm shocked.”

You laughed, and he kissed you again—slow this time, unhurried, before resting his forehead against yours.

“I love you,” he whispered. “So fucking much.”

“I love you too.” you murmured as your fingers slipped into his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp

Reaching over to the nightstand, he grabbed a few tissues.

“Let me clean you up,” he said softly. “Then I'm getting you water, and after that I'm holding you until you fall asleep again.”

You opened your mouth to protest. He pressed a finger lightly against your lips.

“No arguments.”

You rolled your eyes but settled deeper into the pillows as he got out of bed. 

Honestly, after the way your husband had thoroughly fucked you into the mattress, going back to sleep sounded like an excellent idea.

@promisingyounglady @justsisse @private-girl @dilovely @marriammm17 @theonewhorememvers @jaycee374 @zenbabyy @satorulovee @affinityblues @daydreams-and-peace @sir-goonington @sensitiveyounggirl @twilightpie14 @vrodeylua @limitlesweets @butterbeanandsparkleface

masterlist

[poutyharu]

(18+) you let nerd!jo hit raw for the first time

the happiest you've ever seen satoru gojo is when you told him he could fuck you without a condom for the first time.

it's not like he minded using them, in fact he still thinks it's responsible to use protection, even if you are on the pill. he just thinks he's lucky he gets to touch you at all.

but he has always wondered what your raw pussy would feel like, how your velvet heat would contract around his cock, no barrier separating the two of you.

you dragged him to your dorm after class and got right to the point, shoving your tongue down his throat and straddling him. not before long, his jeans were shoved down to his ankles and he was hovering over you, obviously very nervous.

"toru– just put it in" you groaned in annoyance, trying not to just fuck into him yourself.

"m'sorry..." he whined, pushing his glasses up with one finger and glancing down at where his dick sat against your glistening folds, throbbing and twitching with anticipation. just the sight pulled a little whimper from him. he's always cum a bit quicker than some of the other guy's you've dated, but he just can't help it! you're the first girl he's ever been with, probably the prettiest he's ever talked to.

"okay..." he took a breath, trying to calm himself down before reaching down and taking his cock in his hand, lining the leaking tip up with your entrance.

when he finally does push in, he's panting, grip on your hips so tight you know you'll have little finger tip shaped bruises there afterwards. "oh– fuuuuck–" he moans whorishly once he buries himself to the hilt, clenching his eyes shut and breathing so heavily you think he might pass out. your pussy is just so much more warm like this, he can feel every ridge of your gummy walls fluttering around him, begging him to move.

"m-move some" you breathe out, not used to how different his cock feels like this. your hands are braced on his broad shoulders, fingernails digging into his skin when he doesn't move a muscle.

his eyes are still closed, his glasses nearly falling off of his face. you can hear him whining faintly, body so stiff it's making you uncomfortable for him.

you decide to take matters into your own hands, bucking your hips up so his dick slides further into you. apparently, that was a bad idea when his reaction was an immediate iron grip on your hips, and loud, pathetic moan. "fuck!" he buries his flushed face in your neck, jaw slack and breath fanning against your skin.

he came. he came having not been inside you for even a minute. you can't help but huff a suprised sound, that soon turns into a full body laugh.

he lifts his head from the crook of your neck at that, eyes wide and glassy like he was going to cry. "don't laugh! s'not funny..." he's mortified, he came like a virgin just because of the lack of a little piece of plastic. "m'sorry baby..." he seems genuinely apologetic, he hates that he couldn't make you feel good.

you shush him, reaching up to card your fingers through his silky white hair, scratching his scalp lightly and watching as he leans into the contact. he's convinced you're mad at him, that you think he's pathetic. "i don't mind, toru" you coo, which earns a relived sigh from him in return. your voice is soothing when you speak, "let's go again, yeah?"

© 𝓹outyharu | all rights reserved. please do not reupload or claim my work as your own. do not feed my content into ai systems.

[bfbkg]

have we talked about morning sex w/ bakugou? i'm sure we have but imma say it anyway bc the whole concept is domestic and fluffy to me sksks

— would rather not live at all than to live this life without you

bakugou katsuki x f!reader

cw: minors dni, very soppy in love relationship, yn stressed, morning sex, unprotected penetration, yn sucks his thumb, crybaby yn, bkg best boyf ever, princess/babe/good girl petnames

an: you didn’t even talk about it you just said the words ILL DO ALL THE WORK THEN !!! also i’m preparing for beyoncé so beyoncé title.

as soon as you succumb to consciousness, you roll out of bakugou’s arms to lay on your back.

“fuck.”

it’s you starting the day with a swear, a big sigh and the bottom of your palms in your eye sockets.

bakugou awakes the second you slip out his arms because even unconsciously he knows something is wrong with you. he blinks at you slowly like a loving cat, sleepy creases by his eyes and running his tongue across his teeth like he’s checking they’re all there.

“cuddle me, woman.” he grunts, head turned on the pillow to focus on your face.

you ignore him, “i’ve got so much shit to do today.” you’re groaning, pulling your hands off your face to look back at your lover.

he’s so handsome in the mornings.

“we need time apart. you’re startin’ to sound like me.”

“i thought we’ve already had the conversation that girls swear too.”

he’s still blinking at you, a slow smile rising on your faces.

“fuckin’ cuddle me, woman.”

bakugou even lifts his arm out of the warmth under the covers so you can slide your body beside his.

it’s an early morning staring contest that doesn’t last long at all before his eyes are drooping closed and you’re sinking into his warm cocoon.

you rest your cheek on his bare pectoral, he’s always a shirtless sleeper, cocking your leg across his waist where you can feel the fabric of his underwear. his arm is strong around you so you’ve got no chance of escaping.

“tell me what we’ve got to do today,” he breathes above you pressing a light kiss on your forehead.

another sigh passes you though your heart swells at the pronoun change. we, always we.

“work, maid of honour duties, more work, final assignments, my father has a list of things he wants from me, have to call my landlord, so many emails to reply to, i need to get my dress tailored for the event we’re going to next week…,” you trail off, your voice becoming shaky by the end.

you’re overwhelmed by everything. the change in your tone has bakugou opening his eyes to look down at you, pressing another kiss to your forehead, rubbing your back with his hand and squeezing your thigh.

“what can i help with, princess?” he rumbles and you peep up to look at him.

to anyone else he looks annoyed, frowny eyebrows, expression serious like he could curse you out and his jaw clenched. that’s not the truth though. you feeling upset makes him uncomfortable in a way he can’t explain. like there’s a nagging in his head that everything needs to be fixed. needs to be sorted so you can feel better again.

“n-nothing really. it’s all on me.”

you hug around his chest, focusing on the slope of his nose to distract you from his piercing eyes.

“send me the list your dad sent you. i can do whatever’s on that. i’ll give your dress to my usual tailor. don’t worry about that. we can call your landlord after we shower,” he states, no question about it. he nuzzles back into the pillow, swallowing and hugging you tighter.

bakugou makes everything feel possible and instantly, your mental list feels shorter. a weight off your shoulders.

“isn’t the wedding in six months? i’m sure they can wait on the colour of fuckin’ napkins. so, that leaves you your assignments and work,” bakugou inhales deeply like sorting out your life was an easy task.

then he rolls you on your back, still caught by slumber to rest his massive body on top of yours. he stuffs his head in your neck and begins laying kisses across the length of it. his hand sneaks under your camisole and just stays there.

“is that okay?” he grumbles, lips brushing against your neck, “you’re not swearin’ like a fuckin’ sailor anymore?”

“yes.”

“can’t hear you.”

“yes.”

“hm. just ask for help next time, babe.”

now your breath is shaky for a whole other reason. especially when the hand bakugou’s got resting on your chest is inching a little higher, curving around your side so he can rub his thumb under your breast. his kisses are slow, on your neck, your jawline, behind your ear. his lips are moist in the morning, nibbling on your earlobe and you can’t control the moan that erupts from you.

“i love you, katsuki,” you breathe, stretching your neck and arching your back to his touch.

he laughs rough on your neck. you needy under him is always his favourite sight to see. especially in the mornings where you’re all warm from your conjoined body heat, straps to your tank top falling off your shoulders and he’s already hard in his boxers from a dream he can’t remember. you smell good too and you always taste sweeter.

“love you too, princess.” and when you shuffle under him, you can feel his cock against your upper thigh. a blissful sigh flutters past your lips, your hand resting over his ass. he can cure your stress in more ways than one.

his face is stuffed in your neck making out with any bit of skin he can get on, minus your lips. for a moment, you pull bakugou’s face up, stopping the sweet sensation on your neck so he can look at you. you get lethargic ruby eyes staring at you, a hand on each of his cheeks. bakugou rests up on one forearm, his other hand squeezing at your breast.

“oh.”

the tiny smirk he gives you makes you cross your legs over each other.

“what’s up, pretty girl? got me starin’ at you.” he does as he says, studying your lips as you squish his cheeks between your hands.

“want a kiss.”

“i’ve been kissin’ you.” he smirks.

“on my lips, you loser.”

it’s too early to argue back and you’re too pretty in the morning for him to even want to. you’re the only person who can talk to him like this. the only person he wants to.

“i can do that. just for the lil tantrum you had.”

bakugou pecks your lips before you can argue. it’s never too early for you to.

“i didn’t have—,”

he kisses you again, deep. mouth pressed to yours, tongue out to suck on your bottom lip. he caresses your tit and it’s about time for him to begin grinding into you. you open your legs wider for him to fit, his cock rubbing across your centre.

you’re rocking into his body, tilting your hips so he gets you where you love. you’re koala hugging him, arms around his neck and legs around his waist and you’re about to moan into his mouth when bakugou pulls away.

“i didn’t have a lil tantrum,” you’re breathless, pressing your breasts into his chest, hand sneaking up to grasp his hair.

bakugou kisses your cheek, “you did and that’s fine. always gonna be here for you.” he rolls his hips into you, roughly yanking down his boxers to rub his bare cock against your clothed pussy. “you know that, don’t you?”

“don’t start being sweet or i’ll start crying.”

you hook two fingers in your panties, pulling them to the side and you both let out a moan when you touch. the two thick veins that run up his cock brush against your clit deliciously, you could write sonnets about how it makes you feel, the fireworks lighting up your insides.

“cry, then. i can handle that too, princess,” he grunts, biting down on his lip and trying hard not to focus too much on how he’s feeling. he cannot nut yet. “fuckin’ put me inside you.”

the slow grind makes you gasp. the sleepy coordinated rhythm you create together, the thickening sex filled air and the streak of golden sunlight through his curtains glowing across the sheets. you’re whining his name and he loves it. you grip his cock, circling your fingers around him and smiling when he twitches. you brush his cock head down your centre, collecting the wetness that had gathered from his slick kisses on your neck.

“y’so wet baby,” he moans into your ear and your hips jolt without meaning to, causing him to slip right into you.

“oh, ‘suki,” you hold him at the base to keep him in, your soft walls hugging him tight.

bakugou drops his head into your neck and begins to thrust, a steady pace that makes your eyes roll to the back of your head. you feel him in your guts, pressing all the points you need and all the stress you had before doesn’t exist.

it’s sloppy and loud, wet pats that has bakugou growling in your neck.

“always gonna handle you, baby. y’gonna have no problems with me around,” teeth nibble at your jaw as his hips pick up speed. “g-gonna— fuck— gonna keep you fuckin’ happy.”

tears prickle at the corner of your eyes because of what he’s saying or how good he’s making you feel, you can’t decide yet.

“more, ‘suki,” you beg and bakugou knows exactly what you need.

“open up,” he murmurs and you open your mouth, your tongue on your lip.

he slides his thumb across your tongue, twitching inside of you when your lips circle around his finger. you hold eye contact with him because you know he loves when you do in this position. his ruby eyes stare into you with something you can only explain as love, adoration. completely secure that he will look after you in anyway you need.

“good girl,” he hums, as your cheeks concave in to suck. he notices the tears running down the side of your face. “you’re so fuckin’ perfect.”

then he slides his thumb out your mouth and pushes it between your legs to rub circles on your clit.

now you’re overwhelmed in a completely different way. your body is moving without any connection to your brain, all on instinct to reach the pleasure you’re begging for. your back arches from feeling so full, the concentration on your bud of nerves and your lover staring at you like you’re the only one to ever exist.

“oh, shit,” you’re close, so close. arms cross around his neck to pull him closer to you, that skin to skin still isn’t enough, “almost there, i love you so much ‘suki.”

your voice can do it alone for bakugou. paired with how you’re locking your ankles across his back so he can’t leave and you’re crying over him. he didn’t know he still had space to love you even more.

his voice is growly, vibrations that you can feel in your chest. “love you more than life. gonna keep you safe, urgh fu—,”

the cord inside you snaps, a squeal leaving your throat as your orgasm rushes through you. “oh my— katsuki,” you feel blood leave your toes, your brain fill with serenity and the warmth of your lover makes you feel protected. it’s a gorgeous feeling and he makes it last as long as possible, thrusting slowly with his fingers on your clit.

until bakugou bursts, coming right after you. he jolts thrice, leaking his come into you, so much it’s dripping out. he clutches onto your side, one arm holding himself up as you push his hair out his face so you can see his scrunched up expression.

“motherfucker,” he murmurs through clenched teeth and when he’s finally done he flops on top of you, all his body weight.

you stay like that for a minute, wiping any stray tears as he circles his arms around you. you would stay in this position for forever if you could just—

“breathe, can’t breathe katsuki,” you huff and he groans in your neck when he hears you.

he just holds on to your body, rolling over so you’re hugging on both your sides. he’s still limp inside of you.

he’s sleepy, always is after coming. lips bruised and slightly pouted on the pillow, eyes closed as his thumb rubs along the lace trim of your underwear.

you brush your fingers through his hair.

“i’m lucky to have you.”

“this has been a really soppy mornin’.” he whispers with an attitude so you pinch his side to have him perk up. his eyes snap open and he doesn’t mean to kiss your forehead but it’s right there.

“i said i’m lucky to have you,” you repeat seriously, counting the maroon flecks in his eyes, hoping he can see all the feelings you’re unable to explain.

“i’m lucky to have you too,” now he pecks your lips, “meant what i said earlier. no problems when i’m around.”

you feel loved, so swollen with it that again, tears are gathering at your waterline.

“no, no more tears. we’re gonna get cleaned up,” he brushes his thumb under your eye, “you’ve got calls to make and i’ve got dresses to deal with.”

“okay.” you nod, blinking the tears away.

then bakugou pulls out of you, adjusting your underwear so it won’t be as messy and then scoops you into his arms to plop you into the shower with him.

[rengoatku]

Going on live stream with Satoru ٠࣪⭑

You and Satoru were sitting on his obnoxiously large bed as you fumbled to turn the live stream on. Your viewers have been begging for a Q&A session.

“Hey guys! Welcome back to another live stream. I’m here with Satoru — as usual.” He gave you a sideways glance. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Before you could even come up with a response, the comments came flooding in.

jlawhusband: KISS yooo who said that 👀

meow4toru: LOOK AT HIS SMIRK OH MY GAWD

kugi-nobara: i need your skincare routine.

You squinted at the screen. “Guys, tone it down, will you? You guys are crazy, except you, Kugi. I’ll do a video on my routine.” Satoru laughed, “They’re always weird, no? Can’t blame them.” He stretched one of his hands and rested it over your shoulder. “We are that couple.”

Rolling your eyes, you opened your phone and scrolled through the list of questions sent by your followers. “Okay, first question,” grinning, you turned to your boyfriend. “How whipped are you on a scale of one to ten?”

He blinked at you, pale eyebrows furrowing in thought before he answered, “Eleven.” He turned to the camera, his eyes narrowing slightly. “So don’t even think about flirting in the comments.”

toegay_inu: Yooo chill this feels targeted towards me 😕😕

m4k1i1: That’s because it is. Stop shooting your shot, they never land.

You giggled as your boyfriend gradually got redder every time someone made a weak attempt to flirt with you. “I just said off limits, guys! Take a hint.” Sulking, he took the phone and scrolled to the next question.

“Right,” he deadpanned, a pout settling on his lips as he turned towards you, “Who the hell asked if you’re single?”

You couldn’t help the laugh that snuck past your lips, “Oh my god? Did they actually?”

Satoru’s brows knitted together as his cheeks turned pink. “I will seriously start banning some of you from these streams!” You laughed louder, resting your hand on his shoulder. “Toru, you can’t do that!”

He mumbled something about doxing people before you swatted his arm and continued. “Okay, this one is asking us to react to the edits on TikTok. That seems okay.” Satoru seemed to perk up at this. “Awesome!” Babe, do you think they have those ship edits of us?” Giggling, you replied, “Baby, doesn’t that only happen when people aren’t dating?”

He rolled his eyes, “Whatever potato, potahto.”

The first edit that popped up was one for Sukuna. Gojo had connected his phone to his TV so you could aim the camera at it as well.

“Bend over and take this dick —”

“Woah!” You both practically screamed in unison, jumping into each other’s arms as if what you had just witnessed was a crime against humanity.

sukunas4thwife: OH MY GOD THATS MY EDITT!!1!1!1

hearts-yorozu: my man my man my man

fushiguro_m: ???

Clearing your throat, you scroll past the video, “Moving on.”

The next seems to be a wholesome edit of you and Satoru, different clips of your various vlogs stitched together to some soft music with the caption “dream relationship.”

Both you and Satoru cooed at the video, watching it on repeat a few times. “Awww, Toru. This is so cute! Look at us,” you pointed to a clip of you two baking from one of your first videos; flour was smeared across his face while he chased you around with a dollop of icing on his finger.

Then, Gojo looked as if he had a lightbulb moment: “Let’s search up my name.”

You almost instantly regretted letting him do that.

The edit opened with him laughing, head thrown back while his oval sunglasses rested prettily on his face. The next clip was of him licking his lips — but they conveniently cropped out the cake from the video. Then came the shirtless gym video…

“Oh?” Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. Satoru stammered, clearly trying to recover the situation as sensual music played over and over as the video looped. “I-I uh forgot that was posted…” You snatched your phone back. “Clearly. Now everyone on live just witnessed that!”

Peering over, you checked the comments, and to your dismay, they were definitely swooning.

hi-bara: DAMN BRO

gojol0verr: I’m looking respectfully.

satorusfan1: I’M LOOKING DISRESPECTFULLY

The comments just kept coming, practically overloading the screen with over-the-top compliments. Satoru leaned back, resting his hands behind his head. “What can I say? The ladies and gents love me.”

You groaned, deciding the best course of action was to retaliate and look up your own name.

Your edit was more intimate, with soft colouring and a sweet song, editing you as if you were the dead wife at the start of a movie. You watched as clips of your own face were pieced together most beautifully.

Satoru sighed dreamily, “Wow.”

The comments seemed to echo his expression.

st4r-kirara: i’m in complete awe

shoko_i: Ruin my life. Please?

drakesux: i will fight Gojo.

Satoru’s face shifted again; this time, instead of being possessive, he seemed to be in awe of the edit and actually agreed with the viewers instead of arguing.

“Yeah, all mine by the way.” He leaned over, pressing an obscenely sloppy kiss to your cheek before returning a cheeky grin to the camera.

Thank you for the request! 🏷️ @kamislop @hangenism @valberryboos @silentfriday @moonlightbae2016 @winxclubluvrr @sujeiti @cherrytintedlens @azizxxxah @harrystylessexycarrot @belovedblanche @whimsicaluhvr @v4mpyyb4tzz @6x-x9 @shy-guy927 @jiyuspassion @love-d-luxe @eazelsleazel @popeheywardssecretgf @llovekats @clarasthoughtss @yong-yong-ma-boi @qrxswan @theogmamaguro @tchmiya @biasangel @yukiyaaaa @itzmyszn-nn @kociluvsatoru @coveredinbloodyfangs @megssleepygirl @salamiwarrior @stinkjima @afararraaaa @kingjuliancypher @losergflol @emmy2920 @1cckedheart @ukiyozxz @vanillaacreams @bazingabazinga0904 @palanggaaa @postcard-batteries @lanispaghetti @chosoloverr1505 @lxnarphase @tokkushin @iilovechoso123 @marmaryu @sincerelyherz @popeheywardssecretgf @chosoprettygirl @fushihearts @spencerreidsproblem

[nightshiftnotes]

❥ comfortable

♡ summary: after two terrible days, all you want is to use your boyfriend as a mattress. unfortunately for you, gojo satoru is very easily distracted.

♡ warnings: 18+ mdni • explicit sexual content • established relationship • oral (f!receiving) • multiple orgasms • piv sex • praise • possessive language • dirty talk • creampie • fluff

♡ author’s note: this was inspired by a post from @silentlunarkiss based on this fanart 😭 i screenshotted it immediately because i knew i wanted to write it, then somehow lost the original post before i could tag them. finally found them again!! ♡

banner by @pixopix

The apartment is quiet when you finally drag yourself through the door, your work bag feeling like it weighs a thousand pounds. Your feet are killing you, your brain is fried, and all you want is to collapse into bed and not move for approximately twelve hours.

You kick off your shoes and shuffle down the hallway, already pulling your hair out of the bun you'd done up that morning, now mostly falling out on its own. The bedroom door is cracked open, and when you push it wider, you find exactly what you were hoping for.

Satoru is sprawled across the bed like a starfish, still wearing his teaching clothes—black pants and a rumpled button-down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His blindfold is tossed carelessly on the nightstand, and his white hair is an absolute disaster, sticking up in every direction like he's been running his hands through it all day. His eyes are closed, one arm thrown over his face.

He looks as exhausted as you feel.

"Rough day?" you ask, and he groans without moving.

"The first years tried to fight a curse three grades above their level because Yuji said it 'looked easy,'" he mumbles into his arm. "I had to bail them out. Again. Then Megumi and Nobara got into an argument about mission protocol that somehow turned into a full-blown screaming match about who ate whose leftovers from the fridge. I had to separate them like they were toddlers."

Despite your exhaustion, you snort. "Sounds about right."

"And then," he continues, finally moving his arm to peek at you with one brilliant blue eye, "Yaga cornered me about paperwork I was supposed to file last week. Do you know how much I hate paperwork?"

"I'm aware." You're already moving toward the bed, unbuttoning your work pants. "You complain about it literally every time."

"Because it's the worst. I'm the strongest sorcerer alive. I shouldn't have to file incident reports."

"Mm-hmm, very tragic." You shimmy out of your pants and leave them in a heap on the floor—a problem for future you. Your blouse follows, leaving you in just your bra and underwear. "My day was also shit, for the record."

"Yeah?" He's watching you now with lazy interest, too tired to even sit up but still tracking your movements.

"My boss is an idiot, the coffee machine broke, I had to sit through a two-hour meeting that could've been an email, and Janet from accounting passive-aggressively cc'd the entire department on an email about someone stealing her lunch. Which, for the record, I didn't do, but she definitely thinks I did based on the way she was glaring at me."

"Want me to hollow purple Janet from accounting?" he offers, completely serious.

"Tempting, but no." You crawl onto the bed and without ceremony, flop directly on top of him, your full weight pressing him into the mattress. You bury your face in his chest with a long, dramatic groan. "I'm dead. This is me, dead."

"Hi, dead. I'm also dead." His arms come around you automatically, wrapping you up even though you're both too tired to really move. "We're both corpses now. This is our life."

"Our death," you correct, muffled against his shirt.

"Our death," he agrees solemnly.

For a moment, you just lie there, breathing in sync. He smells like his cologne mixed with the faint scent of the training grounds—sweat and grass and something distinctly him. It's comforting in a way you can't quite articulate. This exhausted, collapsed-together moment feels like home.

His hand starts moving on your back, slow and gentle, rubbing up and down your spine. It feels incredible, and you make an embarrassing sound of contentment that you'll deny later.

"You're tense as hell," he murmurs, fingers working at a knot between your shoulder blades.

"You try dealing with Janet's accusatory emails and see how relaxed you are," you mumble, but you're already melting into his touch.

"I'd just block her."

"You can't block coworkers, Satoru."

"You can if you're powerful enough." His hand slides lower, still rubbing your back, and you feel some of the day's tension starting to ease. "This okay?"

"It's perfect. You're my favorite human pillow."

"Just human pillow? Not devastatingly handsome boyfriend who you're lucky to have?"

"That's implied," you say, but you're smiling against his chest.

His other hand joins the first, both of them working at your tired muscles, and you honest-to-god almost start purring. This is exactly what you needed. Just this—him, the quiet apartment, his hands on you, the weight of the day slowly lifting.

But then his hands start to wander.

It's subtle at first. His fingers drift from your back to your sides, tracing the curve of your waist. Then lower, skimming over your hips. And then—

He grabs your ass. Both hands, full handfuls, squeezing appreciatively.

"Really?" you ask, lifting your head to look at him. "We're both dead, remember? Corpses don't grope."

"I'm a very motivated corpse." He squeezes again, shameless, and there's a grin tugging at his lips now. "Can't help it. You're lying on top of me in your underwear. What did you expect?"

"Self-control? Restraint? Basic human decency?"

"Baby, you know me better than that." His hands are still kneading your ass, and despite your sass, you can feel heat starting to pool low in your belly. "Besides, you love it."

"I love that you can't even wait until we've recovered from our respective terrible days before getting handsy?"

"Exactly." He's fully grinning now, that cocky, insufferable grin that makes you want to kiss him and smack him at the same time. "Your ass is the best stress relief. It's science."

"That's not science, you idiot."

"It's my science."

You snort, but you're not moving away. His hands are warm and familiar, and honestly, after the day you've had, this isn't the worst thing in the world. You let your head drop back to his chest, eyes drifting closed.

"Comfortable?" he asks, voice softer now.

"Mmm," you hum in agreement. "Don't stop."

"Wasn't planning on it."

For a while, it's just quiet. His hands keep moving—sometimes squeezing, sometimes just resting there, thumbs drawing lazy circles. You can hear his heartbeat under your ear, steady and strong. The tension in your shoulders is almost completely gone now, replaced by a different kind of warmth, something slower and heavier.

You're half-asleep when you feel it—the unmistakable hardness pressing against your hip.

"Satoru," you mumble, not even opening your eyes.

"Hmm?"

"Are you seriously getting hard right now?"

There's a pause. Then he says, "...Maybe."

You lift your head to look at him, one eyebrow raised. He has the decency to look slightly sheepish, but there's heat in his eyes now, that familiar hunger that never really goes away when it comes to you.

"We were having a nice moment."

"We still are."

"You've got a boner."

"I do…That doesn't cancel the nice moment."

You stare at him for another second before letting out a laugh.

"Seriously?"

"What?"

"I come home exhausted, use you as a human mattress for ten minutes, and somehow I'm the problem?"

"You are absolutely the problem."

"I literally haven't done anything."

"You climbed on top of me, got all comfy, made that little happy humming noise, and then fell asleep on my chest."

"I hummed?"

"You hummed."

"I don't hum."

"You do when you're really comfortable."

You narrow your eyes. "I've never noticed that."

"I have."

You glare at him.

"…Baby." He exhales dramatically, like he's carrying the weight of the world. "You're makin' me so hard."

You snort. "You're unbelievable."

"I'm trying to be respectful."

"Are you?"

Silence.

"…No." He grins without an ounce of shame. "Not really."

Despite yourself, you laugh again, dropping your forehead back against his shoulder.

"You're ridiculous."

"I know."

His arms tighten around you just a little. "But you look so comfortable."

His voice is quieter now. "So happy."

You burrow your face further into his shoulder.

"…I like when you're like this."

You feel yourself smile before you can stop it. "You're such a sap."

"Only for you."

There's a comfortable silence. Then his hands drift just a little bit lower again.

"…Okay," you mumble. "Now you're definitely not being respectful."

"No." He gives your ass another shameless squeeze. "I'm definitely not."

Before you can respond, he's sitting up, keeping you in his lap, and capturing your mouth in a kiss that's hungry and demanding. You can taste his desperation, feel it in the way his hands grip you like he's afraid you're going to disappear.

When he pulls back, his lips are already swollen, his eyes are dark with want. "I need to taste you," he says, and it's not a request. "Get up here."

"Up where—"

But he's already moving, sliding down the bed and pulling you with him. "On my face. Come on."

"Satoru—"

"Please." And there it is, that needy edge that makes your stomach flip. "I've been thinking about this all day. About you sitting on my face, riding my tongue until you come. Please, baby. I need it."

How are you supposed to say no to that?

"You're ridiculous," you say, but you're already moving, letting him position you. He's lying flat on his back now, looking up at you with such raw want that it makes you shiver.

"Not ridiculous. Desperate." His hands come up to grip your thighs, pulling you forward. "Now stop stalling and sit on my face."

"Bossy," you mutter, but you're lowering yourself down, and then—

"Oh fuck," you gasp as his tongue makes contact, sliding through your folds in one long, deliberate stroke.

He groans under you, the vibration going straight to your core, and his hands tighten on your thighs. "That's it," he mumbles against you. "Right there. Don't move."

But you're already moving, you can't help it, grinding down against his mouth as he licks and sucks and devours you like a man starving. His grip on your thighs is almost bruising, holding you exactly where he wants you, and when you try to lift up, worried about suffocating him, about being too much—he just pulls you back down harder.

"Satoru—"

"Stay," he demands, voice muffled. He pulls his face back to look up at you. "Fuck my face. Come on, baby, I can take it. Give it to me." Then he lowers his mouth to you again.

It's obscene, the wet sounds of his mouth on you, the way he's completely lost in it. His tongue circles your clit, then dips inside you, then back to your clit, and you're already shaking, already so close.

"That's it," he encourages, and you can hear the smugness in his voice even now. "You're dripping, baby. such a mess on my face."

"Shut—up," you gasp, but there's no heat in it because he's right—you can feel how wet you are, can feel it on his chin, his lips, and it should be embarrassing but it's just hot.

"Make me," he challenges, and then he's sucking your clit into his mouth, hard, and you cry out.

Your hands fly to the headboard, gripping the edge to steady yourself as the pleasure intensifies. You start to really move now, riding his face with purpose, and he moans underneath you like this is exactly what he wanted all along.

"Fuck, yes," he groans against you, the vibration making you gasp. "Just like that. Use me, baby. Take what you need."

His hands guide your hips, encouraging the rhythm, and his tongue is relentless—circling, flicking, pressing flat against you in a way that makes your thighs shake. You can feel yourself getting closer, that coil of heat tightening in your belly.

"Satoru, I'm—fuck—"

"Do it," he demands, voice rough. "Come on my face.”

His tongue flicks rapidly over your clit, and that's all it takes. Your orgasm crashes through you in waves, pleasure rolling through your entire body. You're grinding down against his mouth, riding it out, and he's groaning underneath you like this is the best thing that's ever happened to him.

When you finally come down, shaking and oversensitive, you try to move off him, but his hands tighten on your thighs.

"Not yet," he mumbles, pressing soft kisses to your inner thighs, your hip bones, anywhere he can reach. "Just—give me a second. You taste so fucking good."

"You're gonna kill me," you pant, but you're smiling.

But he's already diving back in, and you gasp as his tongue finds your clit again. Your whole body jolts at the sensitivity, but he doesn't let up—he's relentless, his hands gripping your thighs to keep you steady as he works you over. The pleasure is almost too much, bordering on overwhelming, and you're already moaning his name.

"Satoru—fuck—it's too much—"

"I know, baby," he groans against you, the vibration sending another wave through you. "But you can take it."

He's eating you out like he's starving, like he can't get enough, and your whole body is shaking. Your hands grip the headboard tighter, your hips moving against his mouth almost involuntarily. The pleasure is building again, impossibly fast, and you're gasping and moaning as he works you toward another orgasm.

"Oh god—Satoru—I'm gonna—"

"That's it," he encourages, his tongue flicking faster. 

Your second orgasm hits you like a wave, even more intense than the first, and you're crying out as pleasure crashes through you. Your thighs are shaking so hard you can barely hold yourself up, and he's groaning underneath you, clearly getting off on how much he's affecting you.

When you finally collapse, completely spent and oversensitive, he finally releases you, and you fall onto the bed next to him, breathing hard and trembling.

"And I'm dramatic?" He's grinning like he just won the lottery, his face wet, his hair a complete disaster. "That was—fuck. I love you, baby."

"You're insane," you say, but you're pulling him in for a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips.

"About you? Absolutely." His hands are already roaming again, cupping your face, then sliding down your sides. "But I'm not done with you yet."

"Oh really?"

"Really." He's kissing you again, slower this time, deeper. When he pulls back, there's something vulnerable in his expression beneath all the confidence. "You have no idea what you do to me."

"Then show me," you challenge, and his eyes darken.

"Oh, baby."

He's fumbling with his pants, shoving them down along with his boxers, and his cock springs free—flushed and hard and already leaking. You reach for him, wrapping your hand around his length, and he hisses.

"Fuck, baby—"

"What?" You stroke him slowly, base to tip, and he's already trembling.

"Your hands—shit—they're so much smaller than mine. Look so good wrapped around my cock."

"Yeah?" you tease, giving him another slow stroke.

"Yeah." His voice is strained. 

He gently removes your hand, pressing a kiss to your palm, and then he's pulling you against him. His arms wrap around you, one hand sliding up your back, the other gripping your hip possessively. You can feel him, hard and hot against your thigh, and he's just... holding you there.

"Satoru—"

"Give me a second," he murmurs, his voice already rough. His breathing is uneven against your neck, and you can feel the tension in his body—the way he's trying to maintain control. "Just—fuck—you feel so good.”

His hips shift slightly, and you feel the length of him drag against you—not entering, just the pressure of him sliding through your wetness. The friction makes you gasp, and he groans.

"There it is," he breathes. "That sound. The little gasp you make when I—" He does it again, a slow roll of his hips, grinding against you. "When I touch you just right."

"Satoru, please—"

"Please what?" His hand slides down to grip your ass, pulling you tighter against him. "Tell me what you want, baby."

"You know what I want."

"I do." Another slow grind, and you can feel how wet you are, how easily he slides against you. "But I wanna hear you say it. Love the way your voice gets all breathy when you're desperate for me."

"You're killing me—"

"Good." He's kissing your neck now, teeth grazing your pulse point. "You've been killing me all day. All week. Every time you look at me with those eyes, every time you smile at me like I'm the only person in the world—fuck, baby, you have no idea."

His voice is shaking now, and you realize he's not teasing anymore—he's barely holding on. The head of his cock catches at your entrance, and you both freeze.

"I can't—" His forehead drops to your shoulder. "I can't think straight around you. Can't control myself. You just—you exist, and I'm gone."

"Then stop trying to control it," you whisper, and you feel him shudder.

"Fuck." He shifts, lining himself up properly, and then he's pushing in—slowly, so slowly. The stretch is intense, pleasure edged with the sweetest hint of pressure as he fills you inch by inch. "Fuck, baby. You feel so good. So tight. So perfect."

"Satoru—"

"I know. I've got you." He's only halfway in, taking his time, letting you adjust. His forehead is still pressed to your shoulder, and you can feel how much restraint this is taking him—the way his muscles are tense, the way his breath comes in short gasps. "You're taking me so well. You always take me so well."

Finally, finally, he's fully seated inside you, and you both just breathe for a moment, adjusting to the feeling of being completely connected.

"Okay?" he asks, lifting his head to look at you.

"Yes baby," you manage. "You can move.”

"Thank fuck." He pulls out slowly, almost all the way, and then thrusts back in. The drag of his cock against your walls makes you gasp, and he groans. "That sound. Fuck, I love that sound."

He sets a steady rhythm, deep and deliberate, each thrust making you feel impossibly full. His hands are everywhere—cupping your face, tangling in your hair, gripping your hips—like he can't decide where he wants to touch you most.

"You're so beautiful like this," he murmurs, watching your face. "All flushed and breathless. The way your eyes get all hazy when I'm inside you—fuck, it drives me crazy."

"Satoru—"

"I love you so much." His voice is rough with emotion now, not just desire. "Love everything about you. The way you feel, the way you look at me, the way you let me have you like this—"

"I love you too," you gasp, and his hips stutter.

His eyes squeeze shut for a moment, and when he opens them again, there's something raw there.

"Say it again."

"I love you."

"Fuck." His pace falters, becomes less controlled. "You can't—you can't just say it like that when I'm inside you. You're gonna—shit—"

"You feel so good," you tell him, cupping his face. "So perfect. You always make me feel so good."

His breath catches, and suddenly he's kissing you desperately, his thrusts becoming harder, deeper, less measured.

"You're everything," he gasps against your mouth. "Everything to me. The way you trust me, the way you look at me like I'm—fuck, baby, I can't—"

"You are," you insist, and his composure cracks completely.

"Fuck—" He's moving faster now, hitting that spot inside you that makes you see stars. "Love how you fit around me. Like you were made for me. Like we were made for each other."

"We were," you gasp, and his eyes flash with something fierce and possessive.

"Damn right we were." He shifts slightly, changing the angle, and suddenly every thrust is devastating. "There it is. That's the spot, isn't it?"

"Yes—fuck—right there—"

"I know, baby. I know." His voice is breaking now, emotion and desire tangled together. "Gonna make you come again. Wanna watch your face when you—fuck—when you come because of me."

The pleasure is building so quickly you can barely breathe. Your hands clutch at his shoulders, his back, trying to anchor yourself as he drives into you again and again.

"That's it," he encourages, watching your face like he's memorizing it. "I can feel you getting tighter. You're close, aren't you? So fucking close."

"Don't stop—"

"Never." One of his hands slides between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing in tight circles. "Come for me, baby. Let me feel it. Let me see you."

The combination of his cock hitting that perfect spot and his thumb on your clit is too much. Your orgasm hits you hard, pleasure crashing through you in waves that make your whole body tense and shake. You're clenching around him, and he groans at the sensation.

"Fuck, yes," he breathes, still moving, fucking you through it. "That's it. That's my girl. You're so good. So beautiful. Fuck, I love you so much."

When you finally start to come down, gasping and trembling, you expect him to follow you over the edge. But instead, he slows his movements, pressing soft kisses to your face.

"Satoru—"

"Not done with you yet," he murmurs against your lips.

Before you can respond, he's pulling out and lifting your legs, draping them over his shoulders. The new position opens you up completely, and when he pushes back in, he's somehow even deeper than before.

"Oh fuck—" you gasp, and he groans.

"There we go." He starts moving again, and this angle is devastating. Every thrust feels impossibly deep, hitting places that make your toes curl. "How's that, baby? That good?"

"Yes—fuck—Satoru—"

"I love you so much," he says, his voice rough. "You know that? I'm never letting you go. You're mine. Always gonna be mine."

"Yours," you agree breathlessly, and something in his expression goes even more intense.

"That's right." His thrusts are harder now, more purposeful. "Gonna take care of you. Gonna make you feel so good. Gonna love you for the rest of my life."

His hand moves to your stomach, pressing down, and suddenly his eyes go wide. He can feel himself inside you, the bulge of his cock with each thrust, and something feral takes over his expression.

"Holy shit," he breathes, completely mesmerized. His hand traces the outline, feeling himself move in and out of you, and he starts fucking you even harder, unable to look away. "Look at that. Look at you taking me so deep."

You're already building toward another orgasm, the intensity of this angle and his words and the way he's looking at you like you're the most incredible thing he's ever seen—it's all too much.

He's transfixed, watching his cock disappear inside you again and again, feeling the movement under his palm. His breathing is ragged, his movements becoming more frantic.

"Can you feel that, baby?" he asks breathlessly, his voice completely wrecked. "Fuck—I'm so fucking deep—you feel that?"

You look up at him with half-shut glazed eyes, your mouth parted open, completely fucked out. "Yes—fuck—yes, Satoru, I feel it—"

He groans at the sight of you—at how thoroughly wrecked you look, at the way you're falling apart beneath him. "You're so hot. So fucking hot. The way you look right now—fuck—I'm obsessed with you."

He's fucking you harder now, more urgently, his hand still on your stomach feeling himself move inside you with each thrust. The visual seems to drive him wild, and his movements become almost desperate.

"Come for me again," he demands, his other hand finding your oversensitive clit. "I know you can. I know you've got one more in you. Come on, baby. Give it to me."

"Satoru—I can't—it's too much—"

"You can." His thumb presses harder, circling your clit. "You can, baby. I need you to.”

The pleasure is building impossibly fast, almost painful in its intensity. You're so sensitive from your first two orgasms that every thrust, every touch feels magnified.

"That's it," he encourages, watching your face. "I can see it. You're right there. Just let go, baby.”

His voice is breaking, his control completely shattered, and then something raw escapes from him. 

"I want you—" His hips snap forward harder. "Fuck—want all of you.”

His composure finally snaps.

"They've been on my ass my whole life about the bloodline. About heirs. About duty." Another hard thrust, his voice is cracking. "And I never—fuck—never wanted it."

He's breathing hard, almost gasping between words.

"Not until you."

His forehead drops closer to yours, his movements becoming more frantic.

"Only you. Want to marry you—want to wake up to you every day—want to call you my wife and—ah—know you're mine—"

Your orgasm crashes through you even harder, triggered by his words, by the desperation in his voice, by the sight of him completely undone above you. You're clenching around him so tight he gasps, your whole body shaking with the intensity.

"Fuck, yes—" He's just… staring at you, still moving, still feeling himself inside you. "So beautiful—The way your face—the way you sound—fuck—"

The sight of you completely wrecked under him, the feeling of you clenching around him, the way you gasp his name—it pushes him over the edge.

"Ah—fuck—fuck—fuuckk—" He buries himself as deep as he can go and comes hard, spilling into you in hot pulses. His whole body shudders with the intensity of it, and you can feel him throbbing inside you, can feel the warmth spreading.

He collapses on top of you, careful not to crush you but clearly boneless. For a while, you just breathe together, sweaty and satisfied.

"Holy shit," you mumble.

"Yeah." He's pressing kisses all over your face—your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, your lips. He can’t seem to stop touching you, his hands running over your skin like he needs the contact. "You're amazing. Incredible. Best girlfriend in the entire world."

"Best girlfriend, or best pussy?" you tease, and he pulls back to look at you with mock offense.

"Both. Definitely both." He's grinning now, that soft, genuine smile that he only gives you. "But mostly you. I love you. Like, so much. An embarrassing amount."

"I love you too, you needy disaster."

"Your needy disaster," he corrects, and he's still touching you, hands running over your skin like he can't bear to stop. "Mine now. No takebacks."

"Wouldn't dream of it," you say softly, and you mean it.

He pulls you closer, tucking you against his chest, and you can hear his heartbeat starting to slow. The exhaustion from earlier is creeping back in, but it's different now—satisfied, content, the good kind of tired.

"We should probably shower," you murmur, but you're already half-asleep.

"Later," he mumbles into your hair. "Right now I just wanna hold you."

"Clingy."

"Yep." He doesn't even sound ashamed. "You're stuck with me. Forever. Hope you're ready for that."

"I think I can manage," you say, smiling against his chest.

And as you drift off in his arms, you think that yeah… you can definitely manage. This ridiculous, needy, perfect man is yours, and you wouldn't have it any other way.