neotoru's recs @neosugu - Tumblr Blog

hiya it's deiya from @neotoru !! this blog is where i'll keep track of my fic recommendations <3

‎‎‎‎ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ‎‎‎. ˖ ꒰𑁬 see below for tag navigation ໒꒱ ˖ .

dream first date with frat!kuna (shy!reader) pt.2 of this

never in a million years did you expect your first date to be at your favorite stationary shop. the owner was this adorable grandma that knew your name since you frequented her store often. it’s where you shopped for all your pens, notebooks, and highlighters from—plus any cute miscellaneous things that caught your eye.

sukuna picked you up at 3pm on the dot in his fancy sports car. you took note of the car brand to research later. it was the least you could do, he was taking you to a store that specialized in aesthetic stickers, which was totally not his scene…but, you appreciated his effort.

the second you sat in the passenger seat, he handed you the wire for aux. “surprise me.”

crap, you weren’t sure what he would like. you've never really talked about music to get a good enough idea of what was acceptable to play around him…in his car too, mind you. you chewed your bottom lip anxiously and skimmed your playlist. you were taking way too long, but you didn't have even the slightest idea of what to play. you felt his eyes on you. he was probably confused on why you were taking five million years to play a single song.

"don't overthink it. just play what you like," he said. "i wanna hear what you listen to when you're making our study plans," he smirked at you. you froze. how did he know that…

as if he could read your mind: "i've seen you, before our sessions, going through your practice problems and flashcards, headphones on and all. you're pretty thorough." oh. the thought of him watching you go over your session notes made you a bit self conscious. were you really that thorough? what a big word for him. how could he tell just by watching from afar? and why in the world was he watching in the first place?

"wait—so you just watch me like some stalker?" you teased him. you noticed the way the tip of his ears turned a blush pink. you had no idea teasing him had that effect on him. you needed to do it more.

"nah, i just so happened to come a little early and saw you already hard at work without me there." he scoffed, lips curving into an exaggerated frown. he pulled into a parking space and put the car in park. "it's okay though, you can make it up to me by putting me onto ball at this store."

you sighed dramatically and pretended to think about it. "hmm, i guess i could. you know, charity work is good for my applications," you shot back with a huge grin on your face.

he gaped at you and you smirked. corny teasing did the trick it seems like. though, he didn't expect you to come up with something so quickly. but you were smart —you were his tutor for goodness sake—so he needed to step his game up.

"oh, so you've got jokes now?"

"i've always had jokes, you just weren't smart enough to comprehend them." you blurted out. you clasped your hand over your mouth. was that too far? the charity work joke was light, but you basically just called him dumb. and he wasn't. at least, not really? you contemplating folding and apologizing profusely so he didn't think you were a jerk, but his grin only grew wider.

"yeah well, luckily, i have you now."

#neotoru recs #fratkuna #fratkuna fluff #sukuna #sukuna fluff

sugurusbeloved

18+ MDNI

you'd think a billionaire with infinite resources would just buy a damn candy factory when his sugar cravings hit. it should be that simple.

except, satoru is currently throwing a tantrum in his living room, aggressively tearing through his empty drawers like a deprived child.

"satoru, just use your black card," you sigh, barely glancing up from your phone. "order something. you look ridiculous."

"but that takes effort..." he lets out the biggest, most theatrical sigh ever in recorded history, rolling his shoulders with an annoyed click of his tongue whilst searching for whatever scraps are left.

and then, the furious rummaging suddenly comes to a halt. you can physically feel the moment his aquatic eyes pivot toward you upon realising: satoru is the strongest of his era (and apparently, the most charming as well). he doesn't need to order out when the sweetest dessert is sitting right on his couch.

before you can even brace yourself for impact, his muscly body traps you in, dropping his full mass onto you to pin your hips flush against the cushions. "get off me, you cocky idiot," you grumble, shoving uselessly at his shoulders. "i won't entertain whatever weird idea you have."

but he merely flashes that insufferable, shit-eating smirk, his fingers already sliding under your hem slyly. "c'monnn, don't be stingy. you wouldn't let your poor, hardworking satoru starve to death, would you?"

you roll your eyes and snap at him to cut it out, squirming and writhing beneath his deadweight to pry yourself free—but if there's one thing your friendship has taught you, it's that once satoru sets his mind to something, talking him out of it isn't an option.

fast forward twenty minutes, and any illusion of resistance has been thoroughly pulverized out of you.

now, you're sprawled bonelessly across his bed, your legs pinned wide over his broad shoulders while he buries his face disgustingly between your thighs. your cunt is a swollen mess, throbbing and pulsing around nothing as warm, sticky streams dribble down your thighs.

he’s already dragged two mind-melting orgasms out of you, leaving your stomach cramped and tight from the overload, but satoru hasn't given you a single second to catch your fucking breath. every time your body gives out to the ecstasy, his wet tongue just laps more sloppily at your sensitive clit, greedily drinking down the sweet nectar pulsing out of your core.

"s-satoru—" you manage to get your voice out, hands tangled helplessly in his messy locks, attempting to pull him off but he doesn't budge in the slightest. he just hums innocently against your sticky cunt, the vibration delivering a sharp jolt of bliss straight up to your soul. his pale, elegant fingers dig brutally into the meat of your inner thighs, keeping you locked in place as he slurps down your juices with a hunger that's nearly impossible to quench, wholly intent on flooding himself in your pleasure until his sweet tooth is finally satisfied.

#neotoru recs #gojo #gojo smut #mutuals #daphne <3

dolcemisu

a very drunk frat!kuna tells you how much he adores his shy girlfriend

the frat parties at your university were insane. so much to the point, a lot of people considered it a party school, though, you always argued that they have excellent academic programs as well. those were overlooked the second the info for the next function was posted. your boyfriend and his friends were hosting one and he wanted you there with him. you complied, only if there was something in it for you. he promised he’d make it up to you somehow, so here you were.

the music blared through the mansion, it was so loud you could feel each vibration thumping in your head. the air was heavy with the strong smell of alcohol and sweat. people were dancing, chatting, some even jumping into the pool. your boyfriend was no where to be found. you walked past a cluster of people in the kitchen playing beer pong. he wasn’t there. you searched upstairs, nothing. where did he go? did he abandon his own party?

you finally found him in a corner by the side door, leaning against the wall as he stared out the window. you snuck up behind him and wrapped your arms around him. he jumped and immediately gaping at you in horror.

“woahhhh there. please watch it. please,” he slurred. you blinked at him, confused.

“what do you mean?”

he didn’t even bother sparing you another glance. “i have a girlfriend. so respectfully, keep your hands to yourself.”

you snorted and stared at him in disbelief. was this some sort of prank?

“where is this girlfriend of yours?” you asked sarcastically.

“i dunno, she went off somewhere. i’ve been looking for her actually, miss her.” he frowned, eyebrows knitting together in disappointment. you were amazed at his commitment to this bit. surely he was just poking fun at you, right?

“i miss smelling her hair. she doesn’t know it, but her smell always smells really, really nice.” he rubbed his eye and yawned. “fuck it, i could sniff her nice smell alll day.”

“ah yes, you could sniff her nice smell and smell it forever.” you repeated in disbelief . you’ve never actually seen sukuna drunk before. he was quite the prankster it seemed like.

he squinted at you before grunting. “is something funny? are you making fun of my girlfriend?” he asked pointedly. you giggled before you realized he was dead serious. this wasn’t some prank he was playing, he genuinely thought he was talking to some stranger. who was making fun of his girlfriend. and her smell. which was apparently nice.

“no no, of course not. in fact, tell me more about her.” you replied, keeping your voice light. this was a chance to see how he really viewed you. who knew, maybe he liked you outside or your nice smell.

“she’s so cute. you know, she’s my tutor too. funny how that worked out. i was supposed to be bringing my grades up, but i walked out with a wholeee new distraction.” he sighed happily. “wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“oh?”

he nodded, eyes looking off on the distance dreamily. “she’s a little shy, yeah, but when she gets comfortable with you… damn it’s the best. i’d sell my left kidney to see her right now.”

“sell…your left kidney?” …what? how did he jump to selling kidneys?

“right is fine too. i’m not very picky.” he shrugged.

“that’s not what i—nevermind.” you shook your head. it was pointless to reason with him now. he was still staring off like a little lover boy deep in thought, not realizing the girl he was yearning for was right in front of him.

“no one could everrr come close to her,” he declared, words slurring even more now. “or her nice smell.”

“bummer.” you deadpanned. “want me to help you find her?”

his eyes lit up and he turned his head to look at you, really look at you for the first time in the conversation. he froze as it all dawned on him.

“hello ‘kuna. guess you found me?” blush crept up on his ears as he averted his gaze.

“shut up,” he muttered. “i didn’t know.” it was like the embarrassment alone sobered him up.

“i know. you were too busy staring off in the distance and yapping about how amazing i am.” you giggled as the blush rose to his cheeks and he sighed.

“i’m never gonna hear the end of this, will i?”

“nope! take whatever you were planning before, and double it. no—” you smile grew even wider. “triple it.”

he sighed and wrapped his arm around you and buried his nose in your hair. “yes ma’am.”

you grinned at him. “that’s more like it.” he grunted in response and you froze. “sukuna, are you sniffing me right now?”

“…yeah?”

series m.list

#neotoru recs #fratkuna #fratkuna fluff #sukuna #sukuna fluff

satoruined

18+ infodumping his load

nerd!gojo is in complete disbelief that you,of all people—the campus golden girl—are bouncing on his dick and demanding a physics lecture. the only thing keeping him convinced this isn’t some far-fetched wet dream is the sting of your acrylics digging into his shoulders. (he swears he could die happy right here.)

“toru, tell me about… what’s his name? feynman?” you chirp in a girlish soprano, like you’re genuinely curious and not split open on his cock. “the guy who did that… quantum thingy?”

he stares up at you like you’ve just asked him to solve the navier–stokes equations mid-thrust. glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose, pale feathery lashes clumped with sweat, god. this fucking nerd is so fucking pretty.

“you-you wanna talk about richard feynman now?”

“mhm.” you nod enthusiastically, walls clamping around his cock to drive home the point. “make me a scholar, baby.”

neosugu

nerdy satoru talking about the goat feynman im wet

#neotoru recs #nerdjo #nerdjo smut #gojo #gojo smut #faves

fayelero

gojo is a perverted neighbour !

The city lights hummed softly against the night sky, casting a faint, ethereal glow through the high-rise windows of your apartment building. You lived on the 12th floor, in a sleek one-bedroom unit that overlooked the bustling streets below. The building next door was close enough that, on clear nights, you could almost reach out and touch the glass of the neighboring windows. That’s where Gojo Satoru lived.

He was impossible to miss—tall, lean, with that signature shock of white hair that seemed to defy gravity and those piercing blue eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses during the day. You’d seen him in the elevator a few times, exchanging polite nods and half-smiles. He was charming, cocky, always dressed in expensive casual wear that hugged his athletic frame. But you had no idea just how much of a pervert he was. Or how fixated he’d become on you.

It started innocently enough. Gojo had moved in a few months ago, and from his living room window, he had a direct, unobstructed view into yours. Your curtains were often forgotten, especially on those warm summer nights when the AC struggled and you craved the cool breeze. He noticed everything: the way you moved around your space in nothing but an oversized t-shirt and panties after a long day, the curve of your hips as you stretched, the way your hair fell messily over your shoulders when you let it down.

But it was the nights you touched yourself that truly broke him.

The first time it happened, Gojo was lounging on his couch, scrolling through his phone with the lights dimmed low. His apartment was minimalist—black leather furniture, floor-to-ceiling windows, a faint scent of expensive cologne lingering in the air. He glanced up casually, and there you were.

Your bedroom light was on, curtains wide open. You lay sprawled on your bed, legs parted slightly under the thin sheet that had slipped down to your waist. One hand trailed lazily over your stomach, dipping lower. Gojo’s breath hitched. He froze, phone forgotten in his lap.

You were beautiful like this—unaware, lost in your own world. Your fingers slipped under the waistband of your panties, and he watched as your back arched just a fraction. A soft sigh escaped your lips, audible even through the closed windows if he strained. His cock twitched in his sweatpants, hardening instantly at the sight.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, his usual playful smirk twisting into something darker, hungrier. He didn’t look away. Couldn’t.

He palmed himself through the fabric, squeezing the growing bulge as he leaned forward on the couch. Your hand moved in slow circles beneath the panties, the outline visible as the thin material tented and shifted. Gojo’s hand mirrored yours, slipping inside his pants to wrap around his thick length. He was already leaking precum, the head slick and sensitive.

You moaned quietly, eyes fluttering shut as you pushed a finger inside yourself. Gojo stroked faster, his grip firm, thumb circling the tip just like he imagined your tongue would. The way your thighs trembled, the subtle rock of your hips— it was intoxicating. He imagined what you’d sound like if he were there, buried deep inside you, those pretty lips parted around his name.

He came hard that first night, thick ropes of cum spilling over his fist as your body tensed and shuddered through your own orgasm. You didn’t see him. The lights in his apartment stayed off, his figure shrouded in shadow. But he saw everything.

It became a ritual.

Gojo started timing his evenings around yours. He’d leave the lights low, position himself just right on the edge of his bed or couch—close enough to the window for the perfect view, far enough to remain invisible. He was meticulous about it. A pervert with a plan.

One particularly humid Thursday night, you came home from a frustrating day at work. The tension in your body begged for release. You kicked off your heels, peeled away your clothes until you were bare, and didn’t bother with the curtains. Why would you? The neighboring building’s windows were dark, or so you thought.

Gojo was already there, waiting. His cock was half-hard in anticipation, heavy in his hand as he stroked lazily, eyes glued to your window.

You climbed onto your bed, propping yourself up against the pillows. The city lights painted soft highlights across your skin— the swell of your breasts, the dip of your waist, the smooth expanse of your thighs. You started slow, teasing yourself. Fingers tracing your collarbone, down between your breasts, pinching a nipple until it pebbled under your touch. A soft gasp left your lips.

Gojo’s breath grew ragged. “That’s it, baby,” he whispered to the glass, his voice low and rough. “Touch those pretty tits for me.”

His strokes matched your pace. When you cupped your breasts, squeezing them together, he tightened his grip around the base of his cock, veins bulging under his fingers. He was long and thick, the kind of size that would stretch you deliciously if he ever got the chance. Precum dripped steadily now, slicking his palm as he pumped.

You spread your legs wider, knees bent, giving him a full view of your glistening pussy. Your fingers dipped down, parting your folds, circling your swollen clit. Gojo groaned, leaning closer to the window, his free hand bracing against the glass. The cool surface did nothing to temper the heat building in his core.

You slipped two fingers inside yourself, curling them just right, and your moan echoed faintly. Gojo imagined it was his name on your tongue— Satoru, please, harder. He jerked himself faster, hips bucking into his fist, the wet sounds of his hand filling his silent apartment.

Your pace quickened. Breasts heaving with each breath, thighs quivering as you chased that edge. Gojo’s balls tightened, pleasure coiling tight in his gut. He wanted to ruin you. To climb through that window, pin you down, and fuck you senseless while you screamed for him.

You came with a sharp cry, back bowing off the bed, fingers buried deep as your walls clenched around them. Juices slicked your thighs, shining in the low light.

Gojo followed seconds later, a guttural moan tearing from his throat as he spilled over his hand and onto the floor. Thick, pearly strands painted his knuckles and dripped down. He kept stroking through it, milking every last drop, eyes never leaving your spent form as you panted and relaxed against the sheets.

Nights blurred together in a haze of obsession.

Gojo learned your patterns. Tuesdays you were slower, more sensual—using a toy sometimes, that pink vibrator that buzzed against your clit while you fingered yourself. He’d match it stroke for stroke, edging himself until you finished, then letting go in explosive release.

Fridays were desperate. You’d come home late, strip frantically, and fuck yourself hard with three fingers, hips grinding against your hand like you were riding a cock. Those nights, Gojo stood right at the window, pants shoved down to his ankles, fucking his fist with brutal intensity. Sweat beaded on his forehead, white hair sticking to his skin. He’d whisper filthy promises into the darkness: “One day I’m gonna fill that tight cunt up, make you mine. You’d look so good creaming around my cock, baby.”

He took photos—discreetly, with the flash off, zooming in on your arched back, your parted lips, the way your pussy dripped when you were close. He jerked off to them during the day, in his office bathroom or the back of his car, imagining your scent, your taste.

You remained blissfully unaware. Or so he thought.

Ⓒ𝑪𝑹𝑨𝑽𝑬𝑶𝑳𝑶𝑮𝒀---𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟔. 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞, 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞

#neotoru recs #gojo #gojo smut

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.

#neotoru recs #gojo #gojo fluff #sooooo cute

t0jisbunny

face slapping with cult leader!suguru ₊˚⊹

cw; dacryphilia, face slapping, praise, mock sympathy, mean!suguru, reader gets called ‘pretty girl,' ‘sweet girl,' 'poor thing' ♡ part 1

a few weeks had passed, you’d been on your best behaviour since your last intimate encounter with suguru.

until today.

in your defence, you didn’t mean to do what you did. the door to suguru’s room was ajar, you’d gone in to close it — maybe you snooped around. just a little. until suguru walked in.

"you just don’t know when to stop, do you?" the cult leader says, voice calm and steady as always — radiating casual confidence. he closes the distance between you in a few strides, looking you up and down before brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

"it’s almost as if you like being punished, hm?"

your breath hitches, eyes meeting suguru’s. "i didn’t mean to…m’sorry," you say quietly, imagining what might come next.

suguru hums, thumb brushing your bottom lip, touch gentle despite his words. "let’s see how sorry you really are, yes?"

you nod gently.

"on your knees, sweet girl," he commands.

slowly, you sink down to your knees, keeping eye contact with suguru as you do. you try to ignore how beautiful he looks, especially from this angle — silky black hair cascading over his shoulders, that mocking smile gleaming down on you.

"such a pretty face," he begins, brushing the back of his hand against your cheek, "it’s a shame i’m going to have to ruin it tonight."

your throat bobs as you swallow, now aware of what’s coming next. tears prick in the corner of your eyes, bottom lip wobbling as the tears threaten to roll down.

"aw, don’t cry, pretty girl. this is your own doing."

suguru leans down, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, then stands tall again, cupping your cheek.

before you can see it coming, suguru delivers a sharp smack to your cheek, making you yelp. it was gentle enough not to cause too much pain, the stinging sensation afterwards being the worst of it.

a single tear rolls down your face, eyes wide and glassy as suguru lines up his hand for another slap. he lets his hand linger a few inches from your cheek for a few seconds, building tension before his palm meets your skin again.

you whimper gently. “sugu, please—"

he smiles in response, giving you fake reassurance. to him, you looked even more beautiful like this — flushed cheeks, teary eyes that became slightly red from tears.

"my pretty girl… it’s a shame you have to make me do this," he says, slapping your cheek again, harder this time, another soft whimper slipping past your lips.

before you can recover from the previous strike, he changes sides, slapping your other cheek instead, making both cheeks match with their redness.

you sniffle, more tears trickling down your face. "you’re taking your punishment beautifully. just a few more, hm?" suguru says, soothing your skin with the pad of his thumb.

you prepare yourself, body jerking as suguru’s palm connects with your cheek once again, this slap being enough to turn your head to the side, strands of hair migrating to cover your eyes.

"you took that one well. such an obedient little thing," suguru coos, fixing your hair gripping your chin to reposition your face. "you can take one more, can’t you, sweetheart?"

he says it like it’s a question. like you have a choice.

you sniffle again, nodding, squeezing your eyes shut as you mentally prepare yourself for the final slap.

"ah ah ah, look at me," suguru demands, wiping a tear away from below your eye.

you oblige, maintaining eye contact again.

"good girl."

then, he delivers the final slap, the hardest one yet — skin tingling, sore and raw. you exhale in relief, trying to ignore the wetness in your panties.

without a word, suguru helps you rise to your feet again, legs shaking slightly. almost immediately, you lean your head against suguru’s broad chest the last of your tears falling.

he places his hand behind your head, holding you close. "poor thing, i almost feel bad."

at the very least, you’d learned your lesson.

a/n; the much requested part 2 !! also just wanna specify i’m NOT trying to romanticise this, reader is into it (same)

@evfers @poutyprncess @ch0sopuppyboy @stonemsbaker @suguruscherry

#neotoru recs #geto #geto smut #mutuals #ru <3

frostedpinkdoll

五条悟／SATORU GOJO ♱‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ 𐙚 mdni. 18+. sending you masturbating videos while you're away because he misses you.

The first video comes in right after you land. Your phone buzzes on the hotel nightstand, and when you open it, Satoru’s face fills the screen—flushed, hair messy, shirt already off. He’s lying back on your shared bed at home, one hand lazily stroking the thick length of his cock while the other holds the phone above him.

“Baby,” he breathes, voice already wrecked. “You just got there and I’m already hard. Fuck, I miss you so much. Can you see how much?” He angles the camera lower, showing the way his fist glides up and down his shaft, precum glistening at the tip and smearing across his knuckles with every slow pump. “Been thinking about your scent on the pillows. Smells like you. Makes me wanna bury my face in them while I fuck my hand.”

He lets out a shaky laugh, thumb circling the swollen head. “Look how much it’s leaking already. All for you. Wish it was your mouth instead—warm, wet, sucking me down like you always do.” His hips lift off the bed, fucking up into his fist with a wet slap. “Nngh—shit, baby, I can almost feel your tongue. Gonna send you another one later. Don’t delete these, okay? I want you to watch them when you’re alone in that hotel room and touch yourself thinking about me.”

The video cuts off with him moaning your name, cock twitching visibly in his grip.

Hours later, another one arrives. This time he’s on his knees on the bed, phone propped up so you get a full view of him from the side. His hand moves faster now, strokes tight and desperate.

"Missed your voice already,” he pants, free hand gripping the sheets. “Woke up hard and reached for you but the bed’s empty. So I’m doing this instead. Fuck—wish you were here to sit on my face while I jerk off. Your thighs around my head, pussy on my tongue. I’d eat you out until you’re shaking.”

He spits into his palm, the sound filthy through the speaker, then wraps his hand back around his cock. The wet glide is louder now, obscene little squelches every time he strokes down to the base. “Hear that? That’s how wet I am for you. Been dripping since this morning. Can’t stop thinking about bending you over the second you walk through the door. Gonna fuck you so hard you forget your own name."

Satoru’s breathing grows ragged. He leans forward, forehead almost touching the camera. “Baby, please come home soon. I’m losing it. My hand doesn’t feel like you. Nothing does.”

His strokes slow, deliberate, squeezing tight at the tip until more precum beads and drips down his shaft. “I’m saving every single one of these for when you get back. Gonna make you watch them while I fuck you from behind so you can see exactly what you do to me.”

The third video hits just before midnight your time. He’s sprawled out completely naked now, legs spread wide, phone held low so you see every detail—his heavy balls, the flushed head of his cock, the way his abs flex every time he thrusts up into his fist.

“Couldn’t wait anymore,” he groans, voice hoarse. “Kept replaying the last one I sent you and got even harder. Look at me, wife. This is what happens when you leave me alone for weeks.” His hand moves in long, twisting strokes, twisting at the head the way you always do with your tongue. “I keep imagining your pussy clenching around me. So tight, so warm. Fuck—I’d give anything to be inside you right now.”

He switches to slower, deeper pumps, letting you hear every slick sound. “Can you hear how full my balls are? Been saving it all for you. Gonna fill you up the second you’re back. Gonna breed you so good you’ll feel it for days.”

Satoru’s free hand slides down to cup his balls, rolling them gently while he continues stroking. “Miss the way you moan when I hit that spot inside you. Miss your nails in my back. Miss your cunt milking me dry.”

His hips snap faster, the slap of skin loud and desperate. “I’m close, baby. So fucking close. Wish you were here to take it all—on your tongue, on your tits, deep inside that pretty pussy.”

He cums with a broken moan, thick ropes of cum shooting across his stomach and chest. His hand keeps moving through it, smearing the mess over his cock as he rides out the orgasm, whimpering your name like a prayer. When it’s over, he brings the camera closer to his flushed face, eyes glassy and satisfied.

“Love you so much,” he whispers, voice soft now. “Send me something back? Even just your voice. I need to hear you. Miss you, angel. Come home soon so I can fuck you properly.”

The video ends with him blowing a kiss at the screen, cum still glistening on his skin.

Later that night, one final message arrives. No video this time—just a voice note. His breathing is heavy, tired, but still needy.

“Baby… I came three times today thinking about you. Still hard. Still missing you. Can’t sleep without you next to me. Please hurry back. I need my wife.”

Comments and reblogs are appreciated ♡

#neotoru recs #gojo #gojo smut #sexyyyyy

swvness

rainy cuddles with satoru | my approach to this art!

on long days like these, when the rain is pouring outside, the wind howling, and you feel overall ‘meh,’ there was only one person you sought.

“satoru…” you groaned softly, collapsing onto the mattress beside him.

he was lying in bed, night routine finished, freshly showered and smelling like something expensive yet woodsy & fruity, looking effortlessly hot as always. his arm tucked behind his head, toned physique on display, and swiping through his feed with low chuckles.

“can you believe megumi has a girlfriend now?? thought that kid would neverrrr date. oh–and nanami is getting married next year, think i’ll be his best man? wait, obviously, who else would he have? heard the reception is gonna be small—”

“satoru…” you called again, this time more insistent and needy.

he looked up this time, blabbering stopping, before his lip twitched. knowing that tone, you wanted something. and whatever it was, he was more than happy to oblige. “yeah, baby?”

“want you…”

“you want me? or do you need me?”

the correction was instant.

“need you.”

that hit him square in the chest. to satoru gojo, the strongest sorcerer alive, that distinction meant everything. you didn’t just want him, you needed him. needed his affection, his strength, his protection. and while he loved your independence, he loved feeling needed, especially by you.

#neotoru recs #gojo #gojo fluff #mutuals #leah <3

ieiripie

synopsis: murmur asmrist au with shoko content: bratty shoko agenda, oral (f!receiving), face sitting, dom!reader (kinda), squirting, nipple/breast play, tribbing, not proofread bc im lazy

asmrist!shoko who refused to do a face reveal until she hit 1 million subscribers. when she finally reached 1 million and set up the long-awaited face cam, her chat collectively spammed, with thousands of viewers fussing over her pretty pink lips and unique undereye mole.

asmrist!shoko who exploded overnight for her good looks and tingly asmr, with clips of her makeup roleplays spreading like wildfire on twitter and tiktok. soon, her following doubled and dozens of brands were reaching out.

asmrist!shoko who's most popular video ends up being one starring you. your company tasked you with a "very important collaboration," in which you were to provide shoko various makeup products from a recent launch to be incoporated into an asmr roleplay.

asmrist!shoko, who, upon meeting you, demanded that you be in her video. otherwise, she'd call off the entire thing. she argued a live model was necessary for her "work," disregarding the numerous makeup centered asmr videos she's produced without a model.

asmrist!shoko who really just wanted an opportunity to get to know you better and wouldn't stop until she got her way.

asmrist!shoko who thoroughly enjoyed filming with you, and learned a lot about you in the process. you both broke character numerous times during filming, laughing to yourselves out of sheer embarassment and infactuation.

asmrist!shoko who uploads said bloopers online alongside the carefully cut video, not expecting anything to come of it. only, it explodes. commenters note the tension between the two of you, dozens asking "is this yuri????"

asmrist!shoko who reaches out to you personally, hoping to have you star in another video. you reluctantly agree, ever shy even after the fun you had whilst first filming with her.

asmrist!shoko who grows closer to you through your continued presense in her videos, eventually developing a "slight" crush on you.

asmrist!shoko who is not slick whatsoever, becoming more handsy with you on and off camera. during filming, she'll lean her hand on your thigh to support herself while towering over you to apply your makeup. she's OVERLY giddy when you lean closer and tell her to turn off the camera.

asmrist!shoko who turns off the camera in record speed and looks to you, waiting, only for you to lead her toward her own bed with your mic in hand.

asmrist!shoko who is flushed when you ask to "hear some mouth sounds from the pro" whilst your clothed pussy hovers just inches above her face.

asmrist!shoko who wastes no time in licking your clothed cunt, thumbing at your clit while your panties get drenched in a mix of saliva and growing wetness. only when you push your underwear to the side does shoko truly eat, manicured nails sinking into the flesh of your ass to encourage you to grind on her face.

asmrist!shoko who will not let up on your clit, suctioning the firm nub with her lips before shifting to lick a stripe across your hole. when your hands snake toward your chest to grope and play with your breasts you get infinitely wetter, leaking into shoko's mouth as you bounce against the tip of her nose.

asmrist!shoko who encourages you, through muffled moans, to squirt. repeatedly circling your clit and tongue-fucking you, as the steady pwalp pwalp pwalp of your skin clapping quickens as you use her to chase your orgasm, she can tell you're close. when you cum it's hard, and it trickles down her chin.

asmrist!shoko who allows you to stumble off her, still catching your breath, and asks if you can giver her one more. when you nod she is immediately pushing you back-first against the bed and aligning her naked cunt with yours. she places her weight against you entirely, her soft breasts smashing against your own as she chases her own orgasm.

asmrist!shoko who's clit occasionally catches on your own, leading to breathy moans from the both of you. with a particularly harsh round of bouncing, shoko's hips stutter. her nipples are erect and sore against your own, and the added stimulation of your cunts grinding together push her over the edge. you follow soon after, coming down from your second high of the evening.

asmrist!shoko who asks to be your girlfriend whilst cleaning you off with a warm rag afterward, looking forward to filming many more videos with you in the future.

@ieiripie 2026 — please do not copy or translate my works, thank you!

hayyyy guyssss... it's been a while (again). i'm so inconsistent & i usually write when i have trouble sleeping but since im narcolpetic that dosen't happen often lol. anyway enjoy <3

neosugu

MURMUR AND SHOKO YES YES YES

#neotoru recs #shoko #shoko smut

utterlyobsessedprincess

Jealousy Only Makes Me Wetter

ּ֯ . ❥ ּ֯ ┆꒰ A One Shot .ᐟ ꒱

➺ Pairings: Bf!Gojo x alt!reader x Piercer!Choso

➺ Rating: Explicit (MDNI) 18+

➺ Synopsis: Your boyfriend, Satoru Gojo loves all your tattoos and piercings. He always has. However, there is one piercing you don’t have yet that he thinks would look stupid good on you: nipple piercings. When he offers to pay for them, well, who are you to say no to a free piercing? How was he to know that it meant having another guy ogling your pretty tits? He can’t stand the way piercer!choso stares at his girl, but you? Oh, you eat his jealousy up.

➺ Content Warnings: f!reader, no curses au, reader is mentioned to have tattoos and piercings, pwp, explicit sexual content, porn with a little plot, piv, titty sucking, exhibitionism, Choso begging, Gojo (kinda) soft domming reader and Choso, oral (m) receiving, cum swallowing, cream pies, jealousy, possessive Gojo, reader is lowkey a lil toxic

➺ WC: 11.9k

art credits to @/jabesa0 and @/3-aem

#neotoru recs #insanely hot #choso #choso smut #gojo #gojo smut

aquasprings

gojo’s always bragging about his perfect wife. unfortunately, his perfect wife is mad at him.

gojo always said it the same way.

my perfect wife.

like it was the most obvious thing in the world. he’d say it to strangers. cashiers. coworkers. students who absolutely did not ask.

“can’t stay late. my perfect wife is waiting.” ; “yeah, yeah, i’ll grade those tomorrow. my wife misses me.” ; “do you know how lucky i am? my wife married me.”

it was obnoxious and embarrassing, and worst of all he meant every word, which is why it hurt so much when he kept breaking the same promise.

#neotoru recs #gojo #gojo angst #gojo fluff #gojo hurt comfort

minayans

⋆｡˚⋆ ✵ ⋆ Slow and secret. ⋆ ✵ ˚｡⋆

Synopsis: Scar!jo's wife misses her husband's touch.

Pairing: Scar!jo x wife!reader.

Tags: [MDNI] Slow and intimate SMUT some fluff and angst sprinkled, voyarism, public sex, exhibitionism, breeding, p in v, reader is a horny little shit, praise kink ig, missionary, overstimulation (can people learn the diff between this and overwhelmed..?) cunnilingus.

From Shibuya and Shinjuku's ruins to the Italian coast is a long, dreadful and sorrowful journey you embarked on with your husband.

Freshly scarred and high from the adrenaline after the showdown, Satoru hadn't realised just who he was after defeating Sukuna.

He wasn't just the strongest anymore.

He was a survivor.

The winner.

But he came crashing down from the peak sooner than he expected.

One look in the mirror.

And he wasn't anyone.

Not your husband, and most definitely not Gojo Satoru anymore.

So for months, he hid.

The characteristic charming and confident man you married was nowhere to be seen the last three months. Buried in the rubble that consumes what Tokyo once was.

Satoru is still somewhat a ghost of himself—you watch him as he stays rooted at the shore, tall frame swallowed by his orange oversized sweatshirt to hide the dents in his canvas underneath that follow his skin until his mid thighs.

Just staring at the horizon of azure blue, a mirror of his own eyes.

Though you can't see his face, or read his thoughts from where you lay on the sunbed shaded behind the creamy, semi-see through curtains, you can tell his gaze is void—empty like it's been for some time now.

Or perhaps foggy with his everlasting fear. Paranoia of ever having to relieve what he did. Unfortunately for you, as much as you've tried to be a reassuring and wife, nothing has quite helped your husband with abolishing that mindset just yet—that he's on the battlefield.

You don't dare to say it out loud.

But you miss your husband.

Your Satoru.

So much.

Not how he looks.

Never that.

But the cheerful, loud and lively version of him. It pains you far too much to see him so far away despite being right next to you.

You press your face further into the plush white pillow beneath your cheek and try to find comfort in it—to no avail, you can only fall asleep on your husband's chest but he's refused physical contact ever since he came home.

It breaks your heart every time.

Because you love him either way—scarred or not—maybe now even more than before after he kept his promise of coming back to you.

He doesn't see it that way though. And he avoids you like it's better for you to stay away and not see the outcome of the events carved into him.

Says he's "not worthy for you anymore." or "unattractive." So you won't need to force intimacy onto him because he hates the feeling of your fingers brushing every dip of his skin that wasn't there before and that only serves as a reminder that he was still weak.

You wish he'd understand he's anything but weak.

In the distance he's still watching the waves, you begin to wonder if today, on the third day of your vacation—the one you forcefully dragged him on, far away from Japan so he'd have a change of scenery (a positive one)—he will finally get inside the water.

Tug off his cover-up, dip himself beyond his feet in the blue and lose himself in the ocean.

The answer lingers in the back of your mind like a pest, you're sure he's not ready yet, but there's a sliver of hope in your chest.

Which disappears and gets overtaken by vast disappointment once he turns around and makes his way to you. A few long strikes and he reaches where you're bundled up on the bed, hair messily sprawled out on the sheets, curtains half drawn to sheild you from the sun.

And he would usually cling onto you immediately. Throw a hand over your waist, press himself against your back and curl into you. Cuddle you until you both fell asleep in this nice weather.

Instead, now he takes the other end of the bed. Swinging his feet up after dusting the sand off and leaning against the headboard—quiet as a church mouse.

Sadness pools in your stomach, an uneasy feeling taking over your every fiber. You try to be strong knowing he has it so hard—but you can't help but feel undesirable at some point.

Swallowing the prickling feeling of wanting to cry, you try to keep your voice leveled—clear of any sentimental emotions—when you attempt small talk with him.

"How's the water, honey?"

He's quiet for a beat before mumbling "I didn't go in."

You hum, a sorry excuse of a smile on your face.

And you can't help it when the tears bubble quickly in you and you accidentally choke out a sob you were meant to push down.

Satoru’s head whips over to your sideways curled up figure on the bed when the sound reaches his ear.

You feel pathetic.

Making small talk with your husband.

Helpless, and feeling incredibly selfish.

For the first time in months, Satoru feels himself live in an emotional fully. Worry spreading through his whole body.

He pushes himself off his side of the bed and circles the bed till he reaches your side and crouches right where your face is hidden in the pillow and from where tiny whimpers are muffled.

"Baby, what's wrong?" You start sobbing at the sound of the nickname. He has no idea just how much it means to you to just hear him talk or look at you.

The tears spill past your waterline like a waterfall with no direction or limit, dampening your cheeks, soon turning your eyes raw from the dryness.

You hiccup into the pillow, muffle sobs that rip straight from your chest while your husband stays crouched next to the bed and rubs your back—unaware of the inner turmoil you actually fight everyday because of him.

Because he’s there.

Yet, he’s not.

And it stings.

“It’s okay, tell me why you’re crying.” His voice soothes in your ear, questioning softly with the underlying care in his words that he always had with you.

That has your heart clenching even more, your chest tightening at how the man you knew only shows up every once a never now.

You feel like a terrible wife for wanting him back.

“I miss you.” You frailly cry out, voice a pitch higher and shaky.

Though you can’t see him, you know he’s probably wearing that face of indescribable confusion. He’s there, so what are you talking about?

“I’m right here, sweetheart..?” He’s unsure as he points out the obvious.

You don’t miss a beat in replying. “No, I miss my husband.”

His mind slowly wraps around the idea he has about what your talking about and something shifts in him.

For the first time since he’s gotten back from the shore, you show your face again. Mascara smudged around the corners, hair messy, cheeks glossy and lips puffy.

“You don’t look at me anymore. You don’t let me touch you. We barely talk. You don’t let me help. We are married for fucks sake, Satoru.”

Your voice breaks as you spill your hearts content out through the tip of your tongue. Months of frustration and loneliness piercing right at the one man you love most in the world.

Satoru falls quiet with a frozen tongue and a paralysed mind. Internally, he feels the gears shift, his mind rewire as he understands you.

And he gets it.

Shit.

Where has he been these last months?

Back at the battlefield while his wife desperately tried to cling onto his consciousness and ground him like the tether she always was to him in his world of curses?

Uneasiness washes over him at the realisation that he can’t erase the past—the last months you’ve spent in solitude with an absent husband at home, constantly nurturing it without reward.

So all he can offer and pray you accept are apologies.

“Shit, babe, I’m so sorry.” His long fingers clasp around your hand against the pillow. Holding tight enough for you to feel your bones being squished against his.

“I’m so sorry.”

But you don’t need his apologies.

He has no need to apologise for. After all, you’re not the only one grieving him. He is too. The life he had, who he was, who the mirror showed him before the slashes.

It’s different though. He doesn’t love who he is now, while you still do.

He’s still your husband. You said “I do.” 4 years ago with the same confidence you’d say it today. Even after all of the hardships and even after all of the forgiving.

“Don’t apologise.” You mutter, shifting on the mattress and sitting upward—moving your weight to sit on your legs—and cup his cheek with your right hand to caress it.

Only now do you realise his eyes are glossy too, guilt swimming in them—regret. The kind that eats at your bones for mistakes you didn’t mean.

Quietly, you confess with the sound of the waves in the background supporting you.

“I’ll always be by your side, Satoru. But you need to let me in. I’m your wife.”

Your eyes follow the way his Adams apple bobs as he swallows your honest words. Their meaning sinking into his marked skin with permission this time.

He nods once—slow and sure—and the knot in your chest loosens. In the blink of an eye, he’s getting off his knees.

The matress dips where he sits down next to you, hand still in hand, his body fully turned to you while your legs—folded beneath you—still are angled straight ahead.

In a slow pace, he draws himself closer to you. The smell of his natural musk that always drove you crazy mixed with the ocean breeze in his milky white hair filling your senses.

His lips brush against you in the comforting way they always did before meeting.

And slowly, he whispers.

“You are so much more than my wife.”

You hum once, curtly.

“You’re my everything.”

And the man you thought you no longer recognised, kissed you like the man you know by heart.

The kiss is impossibly soft. Tender and warm. Electrifying all of your dormant atoms to life, cells buzzing under his touch.

It’s magical. An open door to the world you thought you were shut out of entirely—one with him and your love.

His lips move slowly against yours. Plush skin meeting plush skin in a desperate yet patient reunion.

You didn’t realise you missed it so much till now.

It hurts to part.

Satoru only pulls away for a second to look in your eyes.

Neither of you exchange words before diving back into each other’s essences.

His hands find your waist, your body turns to him completely—back pressing against the headboard as he holds you, your hands fitting on his broad shoulders.

Beneath the tips of your delicate fingers, you feel the dips and uneven surfaces under the thin layer of his sweatshirt.

The kiss deepens once he swipes his tongue under your lip and you grant him that quiet access like you always have under the sun or moon.

You’ve always been Satoru’s.

From the day you saw him on the other side of the train station.

Till now.

And you always will be his.

Your nails slightly dig into his flesh as he explores your mouth, one of his hands now on your chin—tilting your face up—so he can follow the same path he always did.

Tongues fighting, bodies heating up under the daylight, you feel the need to reduce the layers between your thin white cover-up dress and his sweatshirt.

Hesitantly, the pressure on his shoulders caused by your fingers lessens and your hands migrate to the collar of the orange material.

He’s still kissing you as you tug on the zipper.

Then he freezes.

Tongue retreating and lips separating from the heated kiss. Eyes locking together.

You see the fear and hesitation in his baby blues. A silent prayer for you to not see him.

“Satoru, I love you.” You croak out. Voice scratchy and hoarse. The remaining few drops of tears spill from the corners of your eyes.

“I love you so much you have no idea. And I have always loved you and I always will. Even when you change.”

Your husband’s heart shatters.

Loud, like glass breaking against the floor. Unmendable.

But he trusts you.

So he dries your face with the buds of his fingers. Kisses the corner of your damp eye, and pulls the zipper down himself—showing the tainted and raw outcome of his fight.

Pink scars, painfully painted stars in his history.

You see beyond them. See the chiseled body he worked for, the defined v-line that you go crazy for, his rock-hard abs. His determination.

The scars are mere decorations you wish he accepts someday.

“You’re beautiful, honey. Even more now.”

Satoru has doubled in mass since being in the prison realm.

There’s nothing unattractive about him.

Your mind momentarily flashes to the promises of him giving you a family after the fight if he made it.

Every time you think about it, nausea overtakes you.

That dangerous what if that haunted you for nights before the showdown.

What if he didn’t…

No, he’s home.

And that matters so much to you.

That he could come home missing half of his body and you’d still cherish him to death.

Because you know there were others without the gift or the fortune to see their loved ones faces ever again.

Your hands press against the hard surface of his pecks before peeling your back off the headboard and reaching up to kiss him.

You’re caged in between his arms that hold himself up against the headrest. He happily accepts the kiss, lighter than a few seconds ago.

He melts into you again. Your back presses against the cushioned board again as he hovers over you once more.

Hands dipping, your nails feel every dip of his abs. Your legs subconsciously closing as the heat in between them grows.

Satoru bites your bottom lip so he can slip inside your mouth this time, his confidence recovering little by little as he sees the effect he still has on you.

You rein back a whimper that almost escapes once he lowers his lower body onto you. Hard boner pressing against your thinly covered clit—slotting himself perfectly against her.

With the palms of your hands, you push the orange sweatshirt off Satoru and he pulls his hands back quickly to throw it off before latching them on your breasts.

Your mouths dance a ballad you’ve both practiced across different lives.

With no regard for even considering that people might walk by and catch what’s happening through the slightly agape curtains, you slowly plunge your hands inside your husband’s swim trunks.

He hisses against your mouth as your hands wrap around his shaft, sensitive from not being touched or touching himself at all these last months.

Every fiber in you is on fire. His lips leave yours and attach to your neck—peppering your skin with love bites that show you’re his as he works on kneading your tits.

You start pumping his girth at a rhythmic pace, swiping your index finger to collect the small amount of pre-cum oozing out of his tip to stroke him.

Satoru’s face lifts to see you spit on your hand while maintaining eye contact and he feels himself grow harder even when it’s not even possible anymore.

His hand messily pushes down his swim shorts and his cock springs up, hitting him in his lower belly where you immediately grab it and coat it in your spit.

He lets out a deep rumble from his chest that has you twitching around nothing. One large hand pushing your cover up just enough for your bikini-covered breasts to meet the light of day.

A finger hooks under the thin strap underneath them and he sets them free once he tugs the string over your tits.

Your stroking falters when he moves to your nipple, biting as a greeting and then sooting the sensitive bundle of nerves.

You’re dripping—soaking the expensive material of your bathing suit under your cover.

Satoru’s still working on your nipple when his hand pushes up your cover up and moves aside your panties. Long fingers pressing against your warm wetness.

He swears he could cum just for the fact that you’re this wet over him.

A thick, rough digit of his pokes at your entrance before slipping inside. You gasp at the stretch, not having had sex in a long time.

Satoru relishes in the small sound. He pumps the finger once, twice and on the third thrust he unexpectedly adds another finger.

Now, his middle and ring finger stretch you. Wedding ring pressing against your cunt whenever he bottoms his hand out.

His palm rubs against your clit in a way that has you twitching beneath him. Your body jerks at his tongue swirling around your nipple and his palm slapping your bud.

Small moans ring in his ear. With your hands still wrapped around him, he starts thrusting against the mattress, chasing that friction while your mind crashes.

He feels you tense up when your walls start to flutter around his fingers so he pulls them out before you can reach your release.

You feel him lower and latch his mouth onto your pussy before you can process it and whimper for the loss of his digits. Hands letting go of his length as he lowered himself.

Immediately, your hips buck when he flattens his tongue—trying to lap up and consume relish in every taste of his wife’s nectar that she’ll offer him.

You lose all control over the moans and whimpers that leave your mouth—too far gone to even think about others now when your husband eats you up so messily.

Your juices mixed with his saliva soak into the white mattress, staining it, yet the two of you couldn’t care less.

Satoru laps up like a starved man. As he is. His tongue slips past your ring of resistance at times, teasing. Testing to see if you’re ready.

Your nails cling at his back, scratching new redness that he doesn’t mind—not in the way he does with his scars.

His hands are now under your plush ass, angling you upwards and holding you in place as he devours you with the reverence and need he has always had with you.

Your orgasm approaches quickly once he reignites it. Satoru holds the need to smirk against you once he feels your clit twitch and your sweet cunt start to flutter all alone.

He looks up with your bud in between his lips to see the heavenly sight of you propped on your elbows, tits out and glistening, your head thrown back.

His rutting against the bed stops.

You come undone on his tone aggressively. It hits you all at once, shivers overtaking you as your mind falls into pure euphoria.

Satoru doesn’t let a single drop spill.

Not giving you much time to recover, too eager to melt his body with yours, and with you all over his face, your husband climbs over your body again and captures your lips in a kiss.

Tasting yourself on his glistening lips, you shudder and whimper from how sensitive you are once you feel him rub his tip against your entrance.

“ ‘toruuu.” You whine, tears brimming your eyes.

A mock pity pout spawns on his face. His head lolls to the side as he watches your struggled expression—mouth parted, eyes fluttering open and shut when he brushes himself against your overstimulated clit.

“Didn’t you miss me, baby?” He teases.

"I—did-I missed you so much, mmh!" You mewl out in high-pitched stutters. Eyes falling shut and letting the tears spill from your clamped shut eyelids once he bottoms out in one go.

“Oh fuck.” Satoru bites back a low groan that escapes straight from his chest, his thighs pressing against the round and plush skin of your ass.

He wastes no time in pulling back and snapping himself back home. Letting his length disappear inside of you with little to no resistance. “Yeah, baby. Take all of me.”

Electricity sparks every once-dormant nerve in your body back to life.

Your mind momentarily flashes back to the promises he had vowed to keep before the fight. How he’d retire if he won, give you a family and spend the rest of his days cherishing the moments he spends in your arms.

And you snap out of your thoughts once you feel his two hands slide under your thighs, strong forearms locking them against your hamstrings so he can snugly wrap your legs around his textured waist—carved skin firmed up from days in a dark realm where he fought against time and his own mind.

You feel him everywhere. To the veins harshly reminding you how they have a place within your velvety walls ever since he vowed to be the only one who would ever walk the earth to please you—to the heat swirling in your chest out of profound and raw love you have for your husband.

It’s not supposed to be such a bittersweetly beautiful moment as Satoru is keeping your legs folded around him—forcing him to voluntarily slam down and dip his bulging cock back down home, juices welcoming him and kissing his length goodbye when he pulls back—but it’s so painfully good.

The way he’s back within your reach—caging you under his huffing, feral state where you can see the light color of his eyes sparkling as his body is electrified with life for the first time in months—and the way he’s stretching you out so deliciously.

Making you mewl out incomprehensible words that end up being letters melted into each other with no real meaning because your brain can barely form a real thought.

He’s finding the love you have for him in every crevice of you as your tongues mesh together again. Saliva on saliva as he connects his hips to yours without faltering once.

Begrudgingly, he pulls back. Your eyes fall down to his plush baby pink swollen lips that once shined with your release.

His breathing is heavy, chest rising and falling—occasionally shaking as a deep groan escapes him when you suck him in so greedily—for a second, you catch his stare falling to your bodies connecting.

Then he snaps back up—face levelling to you where you’re still giving him that fucked out doe-eyed look that he swears will have him falling over the edge sooner than he intends to.

“Baby?” He softly calls out, the four-lettered word spilling out of his mouth with ease that comes out of the habit he has of calling you that loving name.

You barely hear the sound of his voice, mind somewhere over the clouds. His tip is pushing past your cervix soo nicely. Kissing that little spot that makes your muscles start to spasm in uneven waves—your eyesight blur and the tears streak down the sides of your face quick.

Unbeknownst to you, Satoru is a lot more pleased with himself than he’d admit right now. Even after the noise, the trauma and the ashes—he still has it in him.

Still has it inside of him to unravel you with the simples touches, to have you with your mouth parted open and your eyes rhythmically rolling back as he plunges inside of you—searching for your release.

It fills his body with a tingling sensation—a lingering hot feeling right where his heart sits at the realisation that you’re his wife in every sense of the word.

That you’re still here and still so loving.

All for him.

“M-mhm?” He hears you barely make out, nails moving from his back and onto his forearms where your nails subconsciously dig into his tainted skin.

A cannined smile pulls on his handsome face, almost resembling one of his characteristic smirks that has you knowing—even in your haze—that something is coming.

“Remember the promise I made you?”

Instantly, you scramble around your mind to try and filter to the thousands of promises you’ve offered each other and that he has yet to break.

There are so many, and you don’t have enough mind to run through them all.

“Which—ngh, ‘toru!” In the middle of your attempt to speak, he shifts, hooking both legs over his shoulders. Drawing his chest down, the strong surface of his chest weighing down on your smooth skin.

“—right there! Oh—“

You’re loud. Too loud for someone on a sunbed in a public place. Satoru probably knows it. Yet he makes no effort in shutting you up—he doesn’t muffle your real moans with a kiss, doesn’t silence your babbles with his hand. He lets them pour out into the open.

He lets the world know you’re his.

And that he’s back.

Either way, you don’t make any effort to stop the shore from knowing your lover is back.

His calloused hands, detailed with resilience and his unmatched strength, go delicate as he tries to wipe the stream of tears on the sides of your face.

“C’mon baby, you know which one.”

Seeing the way you fall quiet—half losing the fight between yourself and climaxing too early as your orgasm holds you by your throat, and half winning over the chaos of your mind—he “aids” you just a bit as his left hand drops and finds your clit with soft circles.

He’s teasing you, worsening the internal struggle he’s putting you through—setting every nerve in your body on fire as he pulls your release by the reins.

“What do you want from me?”

His words find a place in your disoriented head, clicking with his previous question.

A baby.

You wanted a baby with him before the fight.

A family.

Something to remember him by

Every night before that godforsaken day.

You tried.

Clung onto his body with a different—more painful kind of desperation than the one you have right now.

Tried for a baby.

Tried to leave a part of him within you just in case he—

The answer spills out of your mouth before your mind dips to darker places.

“A family.” You breathe out, eyes clamping shut for a second.

He muses, face dipping to press soft kisses to your pulsing temple. “Yeah?”

“Y—yeah!”

Your voice pitches higher at the last second as he presses down on your clit.

“Please—please, ‘toru—don’t leave me. Give me a baby.”

You don’t realise just how your fear is spilling through the cracks as you beg to finish and for him to never be done with you.

And Satoru goes soft.

Pace stuttering, abs tightening—he’s so close, you’re so close too.

With slow strokes, already high off demolishing you the past moments—Satoru rides the last moments of the roller coaster as he reaches his end.

“I’ll give you everything, honey.” He whispers, the bed creaking less beneath the both of you as he takes you to the edge.

And you titter to your orgasm that crashes over you twice as strong the second time once he completes his sentence. “Just take it all.”

He places a soft kiss to your lips as he buries himself inside, ropes and ropes of white milky cum filing your womb—overflowing right out of your walls while he remains inside, twitching and unwilling to leave.

A choked sob is muffled as Satoru’s lips catch it, right hand caressing your cheek.

Everything falls quiet, the smell of sex in the open air quickly settles back into the horizon as the sea overtakes the atmosphere and your ears hear the waves crashing against the sand.

The birds sing a song that relaxes your muscles. Your husband goes limp inside of you before pulling out—no longer having anything left of his to give that’s not love.

He plops down to you, the bed dipping in two sides now—but it quickly goes back to only one spot when he wraps his arms around you, pulling you over his warm body, letting you hear his heartbeat underneath the layers of skin.

Thud thud thud.

The sound goes straight to your veins, travelling through arteries and shifting your own heartbeat till it follows his.

He’s home.

Your Satoru is home.

And you fall asleep in his arms.

Safe, the way you both deserve to be.

Three hours later, Satoru walks over to the rim of the sea, stares off into the distance as the sun kisses his pale skin.

He’s uncovered, letting the salty breeze greet his open and slowly healing scars.

But he’s real.

And you join him when he goes inside the water.

Because this is just the first step out of the trenches.

And you’ll be there with him every stretch of the way.

Please excuse the way this turned out, tumblr has been deleting my completed drafts and not saving anything I write and it has been killing my motivation to write. Nonetheless, thank you to the 800 of u who have been patient w me, satosugu x reader and suguru x reader smut coming soon so lmk if u wanna get tagged~ bye loves. More <3

Not proofread cause im scared it will get deleted.

#neotoru recs #insanely beautiful i cried #gojo #gojo smut #gojo angst

t0jisbunny

nerdjo makes you squirt for the first time ₊˚⊹

satoru is balls deep inside of you, snapping his hips against yours, driven by one particular thing.

making you squirt.

he’d never failed at anything in his life. not one class, not one exam, especially not at pleasing his girlfriend during sex.

and he wasn’t about to start now.

"i’m gonna—hah— do it, baby. gonna make you squirt, i swear," he rasps, large hands clasped around the backs of your knees, pushing your legs up and back — angling his cock upwards as he thrusts into you.

you pant rapidly, looking down and watching satoru’s cock disappear inside of you over and over again. "told you it’s n-not possible. i’ve— mnnnn—tried before."

your self doubt only adds to your boyfriend’s enthusiasm. he recalculates, pulling his cock out until just the tip was inside — then thrusts forward with a new angle.

he rolls his hips forwards again, the first few thrusts slow and experimental before he speeds up again; heavy balls slapping against your skin.

then, he sees your face. mouth gaped wide open, legs beginning to twitch.

"right there, isn’t it?" satoru pants, leaning in, forehead pressed against yours as he pins your legs back as far as they’ll go.

your fingernails rake down his back, leaving angry red marks — desperate moans spilling from you.

"you can do it, baby. need you to squirt for me— please," he moans breathily, bringing his hand down to rub your clit from side to side.

your moans increase, both a familiar and foreign sensation building inside of you, the dual stimulation making you curl your toes tightly.

"aahhnnn! toru’—think i’m gonna—" you struggle, barely able to articulate your words.

satoru perseveres, forehead slightly damp with sweat — white hair sticking to it as he feels your cunt contract around his dick. "that’s it, doing so well, baby. need you to—shit—make a mess."

your cheeks flush red, short but frequent spurts of fluid beginning to gush out as satoru thrusts, shallow and fast.

"that’s s-so fucking hot—" satoru groans, pupils dilating at the filthy sight.

he pulls out as he continues to rub your clit, letting you get it all out, his hand and lower abdomen becoming drenched in the meantime.

unable to hold back, your boyfriend begins fisting his cock in his other hand, feeling it throb in his palm — tip flushed and leaking. "shit, there’s so much-"

gradually, you stop squirting, letting your head flop back against the pillows. just as you do, satoru cums, releasing his thick, warm load directly onto your already soaked pussy.

"ah—shit, my pretty girl, love you so m-much," he whines, milking himself dry as he replays the memory of you squirting on his dick over and over in his mind.

when he’s through it, he looms over you, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "you okay? did so good," satoru praises.

you nod, holding him close. "m’tired now… and half expecting you to say you told me so."

satoru smiles, grabbing his glasses from the nightstand and putting them back on so he can see his girlfriend’s face perfectly for what he’s about to say.

"well, i did tell you so. you should know by now that i’m never wrong, baby."

masterlist ☆

#neotoru recs #nerdjo #nerdjo smut #gojo #gojo smut

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?"

#neotoru recs #nerdjo #nerdjo smut #gojo #gojo smut

moviecritc

fem!toji fushiguro x reader you never cared about your bum ass roommate and his terrible flirting except when he comes back one day looking like the most beautiful woman you've ever seen ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

cw: mdni, oral sex, fingering, scissoring, big clit!toji

You slammed the apartment door a little harder than necessary after another long day, tossing your keys onto the rickety table by the entrance. Toji was already sprawled on the couch like he owned the place, which, technically, he did half of. His stupidly ripped arms were stretched out along the back cushions and he smiled wide the second he spotted you.

"Hey, roomieee. Miss me?" he drawled.

You rolled your eyes. "No. Did you even bother with the dishes like I asked?"

He chuckled. "Nah. Figured you'd come home and handle it. Either, I'm leaving now for a job." He got up from the couch, leaving his beer in the table, on his way of taking his jacket

"I didn't ask." That made him laugh again.

neosugu

THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF MY FUCKING LIFE

#neotoru recs #toji #toji smut #fem toji #YYYYYYEEEEEEEESSSS

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