𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ 18+ mdni.. sugardaddy!satoru.. p in v.. private jet..
“You ready for Bali, sweetheart?” Your sugar daddy asked you, but you couldn’t answer. Not when his cock was kissing your diaphragm.
You became Satoru Gojo’s sugar baby by accident. Not that you were complaining. He wasn’t too old, looked fucking great, had money, and a cock that actually knew how to satisfy you.
He was taking you to Bali on his private jet because, why not.
The man had you lying out on the bed in one of the rooms on the plane.
Your fingers pulling at the sheets, legs on his shoulder. He plunged deep; the thick girth of his cock left no room to even breathe. The tight fit had him groaning.
“Daddy–! Hngg- fuck, ohmygodohmygo–” you gasped when he placed his palm on your stomach, pushing down to make you feel him.
You could feel him moving inside you. The way he was rearranging you. You could feel it. The veins on his cock, tracing up to his lower abdomen.
“That’s my girl, that’s it,” he cooed, watching your eyes roll back, watching the bulge in your stomach from his cock match his pace.
A cruel smirk plastered over his face, he knows what he’s doing.
“You gonna–fuck–you gonna buy a bunch of bikinis for me, yeah? Won’t you? And you’ll wear them all for me, right? Gonna let me fuck you in each of them?” he laughed. You couldn’t respond—you couldn’t even speak. The feel of him inside you was enough to turn you into a bimbo.
You nodded to everything he said, pulling at the sheets, abdomen tightening alongside your pussy around him. He grunted. Snapping his hips faster against you. The sloppy, wet sounds echoed in the room, driving you nuts. “So wet, mess maker.” He groaned. Your voice growing louder, orgasm nearing.
He leaned down, kissing your tits and down. Eye fucking the way each pump made your tits jump and bounce, begging for the white-haired man’s attention.
Gojo leaned in to whisper against your ear, licking the shell, “call me daddy, and I’ll let you cum,” you whimpered, the improper position of your body being in half really drove him deeper inside. You swore you could feel him in your throat. Wet lips parted, but no words came out. “C’mon, sweetheart, I’ll buy you a new Chanel purse, now say it.”
“Daddy! Fuck– daddy let me cum already!” you groaned in frustration, making him grin victoriously.
“Such a good girl,” He sped up, dropping his head, white, damp hair falling over his eyes. You saw the way his abs contracted. He was close, too.
“Fuck– My God, sweetheart–” His words broke apart, pussy clamping around him, choking his cock until you were seeing stars.
You screamed his name that the people on the ground level of Earth could probably hear. Back arching of the bed, gripping his shoulders for support. He held your hips, chasing after his orgasm, which soon crashed over him in waves. He didn’t bother pulling out. Cream pie-ing your pretty pussy full. Till your body slumped down, legs dropping down his shoulders, hitting the bed.
He pulled out, watching the aftermath leak out of you with pure amusement in his eyes.
“A round two would be nice,” he said, a large smirk on his face, chest heaving. He pushed his hair back, admiring you, and your heavy eyelids blinked more slowly with each blink.
A/N: im so fucking tired while writing this, its 4am guys, i also kept seeing fuckass epstein whenever i mentioned private jet, it was so scary
ꨄ︎Anglbunny | Do not copy, steal or translate my work and pngs. you'll be blocked.
𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ 18+ mdni.. Biker!satoru.. Fucking in a laundromat.. Reader lwk shameless.. p in v
“UGH! HEY ASSHOLE, YOU JUST SPLASHED ME!” you yelled at the stupid biker who zoomed down the 30 lane. Disgustingly wiping your white mini slip dress. The splatters of mud were definitely going to stain.
Fuckkk! This tiny dick! You loved this dress, AND it was new. Hope his bike explodes. You mutter random curses at him and his stupid bike under your breath while walking to the nearest coin laundry.
You got stood up on your late, your heel broke, hence why you were holding your shoes and walking barefoot on the dirty floors of your city, your dress got soiled, and you had mud splatters all over your legs. Fucking lovely.
As you made your way down the street, you saw a flickering sign that read ‘1 spin For $1’. Yeah, will do.
You couldn’t help but let your mind wander at your dick of a talking stage who dipped on the first date. Bitch ass bum. Just thinking about it made you want to commit a felony or two.
The door chimed, pushing your way into the empty laundromat.
“At least it’s empty,” you whispered, slipping your dress off your shoulders. Yes, you were stripping, but you couldn’t be bothered. Plus, it’s 1 AM. Who the hell is doing laundry at 1 AM, aside from you?
The mud had seeped through the black sheer pantyhose, but you weren’t going to bother with cleaning these cheap leggings. They would tear if someone looked at them wrong, let alone laundry.
You started your load, sitting on the benches in nothing but black lace trim panties and a matching strapless bralette.
Wow, you might as well have left the strip club.
Your couple of seconds of silence quickly vanished when the door chimed again, a tall, broad man walked in wearing a helmet.
A biker?
Wait.
Was it him?
His eyes instantly caught yours. Or so you assumed they did, basing it on the way his head was tilted in your direction.
“Found you,” the man laughed, his voice didn’t match his looks in the very least. Pulling the black shiny helmet off his head, you were met with a fucking Vogue model. Who the hell was this and why the hell was he straight out of a magazine?
“Umm..?”
You awkwardly said, shifting in your seat. His near-blinding blue eyes trailed down your very exposed body. Lingering a bit too long for comfort, making you wrap your arms around your midsection.
Maybe the whole stripper vibe wasn’t the best choice of action at 1 AM.
“Eyes up here, jerk.” Your voice lacked the confidence you usually spoke with. Maybe because he was drinking in your appearance like wine.
“I came to apologize– I didn’t mean to splash you, sweetheart,” he awkwardly said, avoiding your face, but you could see the bright red painting the corner of his ears. Pervert.
“So it was you,” you sighed, standing up. “You dick, you made my night longer than it should’ve been, and not only that,” you scowled, walking towards him. Each step of yours made him take a step back. Yeah, maybe it wasn’t such a big deal, but you were mad. At everyone and everything, and he was your victim for tonight. “You fucking ruined my $200 dress in 2 fucking seconds, and my legs are dirty because you can’t seem to ride your stupid bike at a reasonable speed, and you–” your chest heaved, finger shoved into the white-haired male’s chest. He had his arms up in surrender, back pressed to the entrance/exit of the laundromat, while your body was a mere cm from being pressed up against his.
He smiled like he was being held at gunpoint.
“I– uh.. I’ll pay for.. It?” He didn’t even know if he knew what he was paying for, that’s how unsure he sounded.
You scoffed, dryly laughing. “Please, you’re such a jerk.” he wasn’t sure what you were even mad about at this point. You felt something graze your thigh, in an attempt to look down, the stranger instantly had his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into a tight prototype of a hug. “Don’t.. Don’t look down–” he said, his face seeming more flushed than earlier.
“Why, the hell? Let go of me,” you struggled against his shockingly very hard muscles, but it was no use. “Waitwaitwaitwaitwait– please, stop moving for fuck’s sake,” he groaned, something pressing against your lower stomach.
“What the hell is that! Is that a fucking gun!?” you shoved and stumbled back, finally escaping his grasp. He stood by the door awkwardly, not knowing what to do with his hands. Your eyes finally met the… gun.
Oh.
“You’re…” your voice trailed off. Both of you flinched at the sound of the washer load ending. Quickly rushing over to take your mildly wet dress out and throwing it into the dryer.
Oh right. You didn’t have anymore change. A pale hand came past your face, putting a dollar into the coin slot, letting the dryer run.
Your body stiffened, and his was stuck in place behind yours. “T-thanks..”
“Can I pay you back?” he said, unmoving. The shadow he was casting over you was enough to send chills down your spine. Not taking into account the fact that you’re still half naked in front of this very much stranger.
“Yeah just– it’s 200.” You might as well take the money since he’s so willing to give it.
“Oh, actually, I don’t have cash on me right now, and my phone is at home.. So..” you sighed, rubbing your forehead. “So you’re here just to piss me off?”
“If you don’t have anything, how the fuck are you supposed to pay me back!?” you half-yelled, turning to face him (his chest) again.
“Well, I was thinking some other forms of payment.”
“What other forms?”
“Mmmfghh– fu-fuckkk” your hands gripped the washer like the man named Satoru had asked you to.
He had torn the back of your pantyhose, pulling your panties to the side to tease your apparently wet pussy with his hard cock. The one that got hard just from staring at you wearing nothing but a matching set.
He was thick, you could tell from his boner, but when he was pushing his tip inside, you could feel yourself being torn in half. No exaggeration. He was thick and veiny and angry.
It would be a shame not knowing how to use such a fat dick, but that wasn’t the case. Satoru knew how to use it. And he knew how to use it well.
His pelvis slapped against your round ass, the weight of him alone, shaking you to your core. Your body came into contact with the hard machine with each thrust. You knew this was going to burn the next day.
“Sh-shittt– Slow it down a–a little will yo-u–” you gasped, the words being knocked out with the heavier and meaner thrusts. This seemed less like a form of repayment and more like a way to get his anger out on you.
He wasn’t saying much. His hands travelled down your ass, snapping at the band of your panties, pulling at the pantyhose, leaving the tear bigger.
It wasn’t hard work to rip such a flimsy fabric, but the way he did it had your pussy throbbing.
“Can’t–” he grunted, dropping his head to your shoulder, catching your gaping jaw in one hand, the other hand came down on your ass, making you jump.
Did he just spank you?
The loud echo of the thwack answered your question.
“Ahhhwait! Fuck– hurts,” you moaned, a desperate plea falling on deaf ears. The loud continuous clapping of skin to skin was driving you nuts.
The way his fat angry tip was pushing and bullying your cervix was enough to make your legs tremble. His hand steadied you, making sure you don’t fall. Keeping you in place with a large palm flat on your stomach.
“It’s… wet,” he groaned, mentioning the lewd, sloppy noises coming out of your pussy. Your face heating up at the perverted remark, making you push back, but you only met his cruel and insane thrusts.
“I–I’m close! Closeimclose!” you cried out, nails digging into the metal of the washer. He moved his lips along your back, down your spine—as much as the position would take him.
“Say my name,” his voice quivered, but he caught it, “say my name and—fuck—i’ll let you cum,” he said in a low, almost dazed voice. You folded under zero pressure. No point in playing push and pull when your orgasm was already at the front door.
“S-Satoru! Satoru– please, please let me cum! ‘M so closeee” and oh he did. He grabbed both your hips, watching you hold on for dear life while he absolutely rammed inside your pussy, each clamp and throb of your hole told him more than your words could.
He couldn’t help but let a moan—and an orgasm—slip free when your cunt choked his cock as you came around it. Pussy tightening around him, he swore his dick would snap off, but thankfully, it didn’t. Though he did end up finishing alongside you. More like inside you.
“Mmffghaafuckk–”
“Your words a–aren’t even audible,” Satoru teased, making you elbow him in the ribs.
“Sorry–I..” he muttered incomprehensibly, moving back just enough to let his softening dick slip free. His load drips down your legs and pussy, leaving you more of a mess than before you entered this place.
“Fuck-” he hissed, grabbing you before your legs could give out on you.
You weren’t even mad that a stranger had stuffed you. Hell, you were in a state of bliss. Your pussy was definitely sore and throbbing and empty but fuck is he a good fuck.
“You’re dropping me home on your bike. I’m not walking the streets with cum dripping out of me while wearing ripped sheer leggings,” your voice came out more tired and hoarse than you had expected. Finally, turning to face him, the man who fucked you into next week. The one who seemed so shy but is currently wearing the biggest shit-eating smirk.
“Will do, sweetheart.” A pretty wholesome moment for both of you, and the blinking camera tucked away in the corner of the shop that had recorded everything.
A/N: angel strikes again at fucking 1 am. absolute bullshit btw, but hope u enjoy
ꨄ︎Anglbunny | Do not copy, steal or translate my work and pngs. you'll be blocked.
Whore son. An inexcusable waste of space that man was. Your ex. The infamous Toji Fushiguro.
Oh how you despised him and his muscle-filled brain. A good face and a hot fuck were all he was good for. All he would do is take up your space and time, leave lame excuses, and play with your pussy.
What you didn’t expect was for him to be back in your bed a little under 2 weeks later. It wasn’t you. Your pussy was having withdrawal symptoms.
He knew. He came. And surprise, surprise, he got down to business since that’s all he knew.
But fuck was he good.
So good, your eyes were leaving frame to visit the back of your head. Your ass slapped against his pelvis, his balls slapped against your red, puffy clit. Poor thing was already swollen from him sucking on it earlier, but now it was being slapped.
Your hands cramping from being caged between your two bodies in a tight press. Initially, he put them behind you, but when he started fucking you silly from the back, the way his vast chest pressed into your back made it impossible to retract your hands. Each thrust, each to and fro rubbed his sculpted abs against your hands, only driving you crazier.
His body engulfed yours. All thick, meaty muscles and biceps and abs. Even the way he fucked you exerted power in a way you wouldn’t believe.
The man’s disgustingly large arm came forward, wrapping itself around your neck, caging you in a headlock. You gasped, pushing your body against his, but it was no use; he only fucked you deeper into the mattress. “Sweetest fuckin’ pussy. You gon’ let me stay the night, right?” he grunted, burying his face in your soft, sweet scented hair, inhaling like he’s deprived.
You wanted to shake your head no, but his grip tightened, squishing your cheeks between the bulky, protruding muscles, leaving you speechless and breathless. “Yeah? That’s a yes, right?” You could hear the grin in his words, while you groaned out incomprehensible words at the tight hold and the thick cock making you feel stuffed like usual.
“You’ll—fuck—you’ll remember this for– for the rest of your life, brat-” Toji’s free hand reached down between the bed and your body. The prominence of your ex’s cock in your belly, outlining your stomach. Each thrust leaving a permanent memory in your stomach. He grazed past, down to your clit.
Rather than 2 fingers rubbing circles, his entire hand covered your pussy. Applying pressure against your clit, trying to fit all 4 fingers between your folds, but it came off harder than he imagined.
He was too big.
He didn’t let you speak, your face molding into a lewd expression while the grasp only tightened as your pussy clamped around him. He was already managing in such a tight space, but your tightening and throbbing and clamping only drove him more feral.
“To–toji–” you choked out, feeling his tip at the entrance before slamming back into you. Over and over again. Your body fell flat against the mattress, but he showed no signs of stopping.
His hand slapped your pussy, snapping you out of your trance, making you cry out louder for him. Your reaction only made him want more from you.
He waited, then let his strong hand slap your glistening folds, watching your body jerk. “Shi— she’s so wet.. You can– hear it in the slaps,” he chuckled, going for a few more before stopping.
“Close— tohi (toji) i’m so— close!” you whined, begging him to let you finish.
He grinned, pressing his lips to your ear. “Then let’s get back together,” he said, knowing you’d agree because your orgasm was on the line. You, of course, didn’t think twice before nodding, “OK! Ok— we’ll get back– lemme cum now!”. Plastering a cruel grin on his face at your response, “Good girl” he groaned, letting those thick fingers roam your pussy, pressing and playing with your clit, circling your entrance that was stretched impossibly wide around his cock.
The size difference only made him groan. Making him speed up. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, scratching his abs, biting his biceps, eyes burned with tears, and your jaw hurt from being compressed in his unforgiving headlock.
His fat cock throbbed alongside your red, abused pussy. Letting your body jerk and finish first. Going limp under him, while he continued for a good 4 whole thrusts before his body convulsed, his tip nudging your cervix, finishing inside your pussy—more like overflowing. You bit his arm hard, swallowing the way you could literally feel him filling your stomach up.
“Shit— hah— if you get pregnant, you’ll have no choice but to keep me here, won’t you?” he said, knowing damn well you wouldn’t be able to stay away from him for long. Pregnant or not.
A/N: so... im writinng about nanami. not edited
ꨄ︎Anglbunny | Do not copy, steal or translate my work and pngs. you'll be blocked.
gojo likes to try incorporating you into his workouts. ☆
when he had first suggested you join him in the home gym, you'd thought he meant to work out alongside him. and sure, keeping up with the strongest is a miracle you weren't planning on performing, but you had gotten dressed in some nice gym clothes to at least get into the mood.
just for him to have you naked within the first few minutes. laid out on your back while gojo holds a plank between your spread legs.
apparently to satoru, the best motivation to keep his plank going is the reward of your taste. for as long as he can hold himself up, he lets himself feast.
"i could have motivated you verbally," your back arches up off the mat as your boyfriend flattens his tongue against your clit. you resist the urge to reach down and pull his hair, lest you throw him off-balance and he denies himself your pussy until he can hold another plank.
"you are," the vibrations of his words against your heat does more to wreck you than they probably should. "keep those pretty moans up. i wanna hear you."
he latches around your clit and sucks, which forces you to oblige almost instantly. god, you want to drag him upstairs and into bed and ride him for all he's worth. "right there," you exhale. "you're doing so good, toru."
"call me strong," he moans.
"really?" you snort through your nose. "you don't hear that enough?"
"nope. do it."
"you're sooo strong, toru." you laugh. "strong and pretty."
satoru lowers his head to lick a long stripe from your entrance up to your clit, the motion making your laughs turn to moans and his jaw slacken with...
did he just orgasm from that? god he's full of himself.
"you done?" you lift your head to look down at him. he's resting his flushed face against your parted thigh, but manages to shake his head nonetheless.
"not until you are," and he's latching back on, working you to orgasm with only his mouth: no hands to play with your pretty folds, no strong arms to hold you down and lessen your writhing... you want to hate how good he is at this, but you're so fucking close to the edge.
a part of you wants to force it down, try and prolong this pleasure as long as you can. both to feel the glory of his tongue a while longer and also to fuck with him, keep him in this plank for as long as you can.
but you couldn't stop this even if you did try. soon enough, you're squeezing your eyes shut and letting satoru hear his name fall from your lips as you cum. it's the best orgasm you've had in a while, which is saying something considering he gives you multiple a day.
and finally, once your legs have stopped shaking, he lowers himself out of his plank and sits on his heels in front of you.
"what the fuck," you look him over. "why don't you look tired?"
stupid question, maybe. all he gives you in return is a grin and a gentle smack to your sensitive pussy. you're sure you look like the one who's been putting all the work in: he hasn't even broken a fucking sweat.
"you need a break?" he asks, tilting his head like a cocky dog. "or you think you can ride me while i do my hip thrusts?"
this is a repost from my old deactivated account. i did not steal this, so if you accuse me of stealing this i will put you in a very large jar and fill it with my choice of unnamed liquid
𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ 18+ mdni.. Private chef!Satoru.. Older!reader (not rlly old).. Gojo tries his best to be professional.. He's also a bit condescending.. Improper use of honey/whipped cream(food play).. Oral.. Nipple sucking.. Aphrodisiac..
Disclaimer: Guys please don't do this, especially for my girlies. Don't do this or let your/ask your partner to do this. You could imbalance the pH, which wouldn't be fun explaining to your doctor/gyno. Don't put anything up there that shouldn't go there... that's all!
Being rich and single was not a good mix. Not when you had such an eye-candy of a personal chef always mixing or piping away at something 3 to 4 times a day in your house, your kitchen, less than a couple of steps away from you.
Muscles taut over the short sleeves of the black shirt he always wore, paired with grey sweats and a black apron from time to time. You weren’t sure why he didn’t wear an apron all the time, but you weren’t complaining; the view of his toned pecs against the stretched fabric was one you’d pay money for on a certain app.
Satoru was making you dessert as per your request. He had various creams, chocolates, and fruits laid out on the counter like a charcuterie board.
You pranced into the lavish kitchen, wearing a mid-thigh-length black silk robe. The robe had long belled sleeves. Edges of the sleeve and hem trimmed with black fur, with a V-neck and a self-tie belt. Satoru didn’t notice your presence as he had his back to the entrance. He was stirring a ganache-like substance in a saucepot. You snuck beside him, grabbing one of the unopened chocolate bars and sneaking away.
This was your appetiser dessert, of course, before the main course.
After a bit, maybe 30 minutes give or take, Satoru walked into the living room where you were lying out in a salacious manner on the couch. The silk rides up your thighs, leaving nothing to the imagination. Satoru tried looking away, but couldn’t help his wandering eyes. He cleared his throat, catching your attention. When you turned to face him, he was caught off guard by your red face. Almost like you’d been caught watching porn.
His brows pinched together in confusion before…
“Ma’am, did you… eat any of my ingredients?” he asked warily. Closing in on the couch. You let out a breathy noise, doll eyeing him.
“Maybeee”
“Please be serious,” he sighed, tilting his head down to meet your lust-filled gaze. “Did you eat the chocolate?” The question caught you off guard. How did he know? There were so many of them, there’s no way he was keeping track.
“I—” the way he was staring you down was doing something to your already burning up body, “yeah. How did you know?” you pouted.
He let out a long sigh, running his hand through his hair. “How much did you eat?”
Was he mad?
“Ummm, all of it?”
“Fucking he–” he glared at you. “How many times have I told you not to touch the ingredients?”
Your lips parted at his voice, “Are you scolding me?” you asked, giggling.
“Yes. yes I am.”
“Will you also spank me?” you nibbled on your lower lip, eyes trailing down his muscles. He seemed to have discarded the apron.
“Ma’am,” he sighed, running the same hand he ran through his hair down his face. “The chocolate you ate was an aphrodisiac. It’s extremely strong. I was only supposed to use one-eighth of it for the recipe, and you ate the whole thing. Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?” he scolded, but didn’t raise his voice. He watched as your body shifted, eyebrows dipping in concern and lips parting. “Is that why I’m so wet?” Your question caught him off guard, making him lose all rational thoughts.
“I— fuck.” he cleared his throat, moving back. “I’ll be in the kitchen finishing up the dessert. You should probably… take care of yourself.”
You grabbed his arm before he could walk away, tugging him—or giving it your best attempt—back towards you.
“Can’t you take care of me, Sa-toruu?” you whined, rubbing your thighs together, which didn’t go unnoticed by him. He was clearly trying his best to keep his composure, but you weren’t making it any easier. Sleeping with his boss, who is older than him, wouldn’t be seen as professional.
He hooked his index finger under your jaw, tilting your head up, leaning down to almost meet your lips with his before whispering a cruel no against them and walking back to the kitchen. Sporting and barely hiding the painfully hard erection in his sweats.
He finally exhaled the second he was out of your sight. Adjusting himself over the fabric, trying and failing to relax his raging boner. Images of your lewd expressions and bare thighs wouldn’t leave his head. You saying you were wet didn’t make it any better and didn’t make him any less curious about his boss. Oh, how badly he wanted to yank that flimsy robe off you and fact-check what you were saying. Spread your legs open to see how wet you were. What noises would you make if he teased you over your panties? Were you even wearing any panties under that? Scratch that, were you wearing anything under that robe? He doubts it.
He could clearly see your hard nipples poking at the silk, and when he went to interrogate you, said robe was halfway up your ass, and no signs of any undergarment were present. Unless, of course, you were wearing a thong.
Now he couldn’t stop thinking about what you had on underneath that black silk. He couldn’t be more grateful that his sexy older boss was single, so he could discreetly glance at you all he wanted, but he was shocked at how you were single. Who wouldn’t want such a goddess as their wife or girlfriend?
Is that why I’m so wet?
Fuck. Why’d you have to look so damn innocent when you said that? His cock was aching. Was he really going to blue ball himself just to maintain professionalism? Yeah. unfortunately. But that doesn’t mean he’ll stop thinking about tearing into your wet pussy with his cock. The way you were staring up at him with those big, round eyes and pouty lips had to be illegal.
He was curious as to what you were doing. Were you touching yourself? No, you couldn’t be. He didn’t hear your footsteps going up to your room. Unless…
Just to be sure you weren’t being indecent in the living room, he looked out to check.
Only for that reason. Nothing else.
To his surprise, you were lying on your side, a couch pillow shoved between your thighs, hair falling over your face to keep him from seeing the expression you were wearing.
The amount of sex appeal your appearance alone carried was lethal.
He should get back to work, the rational part of him spoke. But his erection was saying something different.
He was nearly done with the dessert. A mere 15 minutes had passed since his last encounter with you.
That changed when you damn near tumbled into the kitchen. He caught your wobbly body in his strong arms, staring down at you.
“The food’s almost done, Ma’am, just 5 minutes,” Gojo said, unwillingly dropping his hands from your warm body.
“Satoru..” you whimpered, pulling his face down so you could speak against his ear. “Fuck me.”
Satoru choked on nothing, stepping back from you until his back bumped against the edge of the marble counter. You closed the distance between the two of you, drunkenly dropping down to your knees in front of him.
“Ma’am, this isn’t–” his words died on his tongue, seeing the way your hands fumbled with the band of his sweats, then using your teeth to pull down his black boxers. He hissed at the pornographic sight. You were nearly drooling at the size of his cock.
“So.. big.” you gulped, kissing along the bottom end. Satoru gripped the edge of the counter, face a deep shade of red.
Fuck, this was so wrong, but why couldn’t he stop you?
The loud beeping from the oven’s timer made you both jump. Satoru fumbled with his erection again, rushing over to pull the dessert out of the oven. He set it on the counter, taking a deep breath. He was avoiding staring at you. He couldn’t. Not right now. Who knows what he might do if he sees your face again?
All morality flew out the window when you came up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist.
“Fuck it.” was the last somewhat sane thing he said under his breath before turning to face you. He didn’t think twice when he hoisted you up in his arms, carrying you to the large dining table, gently placing you down on it.
“Not a word from your mouth,” he snarled, impatiently tugging at the straps of your robe like they had personally offended him. He watched how easily they came undone. The robe slid off your body, not having to do any work himself. He cursed at the sight. You were infact naked underneath it. Just a skimpy pair of panties keeping you concealed. “Okay..” you whimpered. Trying your best to keep quiet as he asked.
That tiny little strap kept you hid, which could come undone by a flick of his wrist, and you’d be exposed. The thought itself was enough to make his cock twitch.
He stared at the thin pair of panties, sliding his finger through the edge, pulling it back, and letting it snap over your pussy. You gasped, toes curling around the edge of the table.
“Stay like this,” he said, disappearing into the kitchen. Coming back with a can of strawberry-flavoured whipped cream and honey in each hand.
You doe-eyed him, watching as he abruptly pulled the white pair of underwear off, discarding them to the side. You couldn’t help but ogle at his biceps and the large muscles scattered evenly along his body.
“You really are wet,” he muttered, running 2 fingers along your pussy before the cold drizzle of honey caught you off guard. He let it drip down, letting the sticky substance gather on his middle and ring fingers before shoving them inside you. The intrusion had you grabbing his forearm and arching off the hard table. “Big–” you mumbled, pussy stretching around his thick fingers.
“You’ll be taking much bigger things soon, princess.” He sucked his fingers clean before pushing your legs up to your chest, making you wrap your arms around them, and dipping his head between your parted pussy.
You bit down on your lower lip, failing to hold back any noise that threatened to leave your mouth. He pushed his face in deeper, slipping his hot tongue past your hole, licking and slurping and sucking along your walls, trying to suck the sweetness of the honey out of you.
He was good. Why was he so good with his mouth? Fuck. Your back arched off the hard table; the vulgar position Satoru had put you in only drove you more nuts. Everything was so much more… deeper? Like this. Your soaked pussy spread open, out on display for your personal chef to touch and eat like you’re his favourite type of meal.
For someone who was receiving near 0 pleasure, he was quite loud. Low groans and moans slipped from his mouth with each thrust and slide of his tongue. Each graze of his teeth sends you closer to God.
“-atoru–” you choked out, reaching for his hair, but he reached up, pressing your hands back to where they were—behind your thighs, gripping and holding them in place against your upper half. He chuckled at your needy words and how adorably you were moaning his name.
He couldn’t get enough.
His hand reached beside you, grabbing the cold can of whipped cream. Condensation drips down the metal. He pushes his face back, hair falling over his face like Vogue, using one hand to grip the back of your thigh. He admires the lascivious look on your face before pressing the cool metal against your cunt, making you cry out. “FU–fuckk! Satoru!! That’s colddd—” you whined, reaching or trying to reach for him.
He rubbed the can against your pussy, watching you tremble from the cold, dragging it down until the white nozzle nudged against your clit.
“Wanna get stuffed, baby?” he cooed, the look he was wearing was nothing like you’ve seen. Not from the mainly composed Satoru you were used to. He’s wearing such a deceptive look, but you couldn’t help the way your hole twitched around nothing at the thought of him—this Satoru.
His hand slipped from your thigh, eyeing your pussy like he’s hungry. Index and middle finger spreading it open, your body jerked when the white-haired man pressed down on the nozzle. The cold cream fills and covers your pussy. He slid it down, watching the cream fill around everything before he pressed the jagged tip to your entrance, slipping it inside and pressing. Watching your eyes turn white from them rolling to the back of your head.
“Look at how much of slut you are, throbbing from being stuffed with whipped cream,” he muttered, pulling out when he feels you’ve had enough.
“Spread your legs, I want to see your tits.” he leaned forward, adjusting your position so both your tits were pressed together between your thighs. He set down the whipped cream, grabbed the honey, and put a thin layer of honey around and over your nipples, watching the thick substance slowly move down the round lumps.
He bent back down, attacking, devouring your cream-stuffed pussy. Not having any mercy for the poor kitty.
You had gone non-verbal, mouth hanging open but no noises came out. Pleasure present in your lower belly and eyes, from the way you were crying at the sensation of his skilled tongue taking you apart piece by piece.
“Saa–Sator— fuck, more, please! Pleasee— more! Wanna cum!” you cried out for him, legs trembling.
He hummed, tugging and sucking at your clit. Slipping 2 fingers inside your pussy alongside his tongue, sucking and licking at the sweet strawberry foam. He was groaning at the taste. Was it yours or the sweeteners he was groaning at? You couldn’t tell, but one thing you could tell was that you were close.
His fingers dug into you deep, curling and hitting all the right spots, making you see angels. “Such a pretty pussy.” he groaned, spreading you open to lick every missed corner, sucking every part that seemed a bit too neglected. “Cum for me, princess,” he whispered, nose bumping against your clit, fingers pinching the poor bud between them. The sudden action had your toes curling and vision whitening.
Your core tightened, thighs trembling, the orgasm washing over you in large waves. Your hands dropped from your thighs, making them drop onto Satoru’s shoulder. He didn’t stop. No. The man only sped up. Twisting your poor clit, really milking this orgasm out of you. He gave a once-over to your pussy. No part of you left untouched or unlicked in this scenario. Your body twitched, pussy throbbing against his lips. A smile formed on his face, which you could feel.
Satoru pulled back, letting go of your red and abused clit before flicking it with his middle finger. You gasped , gripping the edge of the table.
“You’re… mean–” you spoke half-heartedly; you didn’t have any energy left to converse humanely. He huffs out a laugh, dropping your jelly-like legs from his shoulder, pulling you closer to the edge. Unsure of what the man was doing before he latched onto your boobs. Body jerking at the stimulation. “You must really like sweets, huh..” you mused, making him laugh.
“Lof’em”
“Don’t speak with your mouth full, perv.” Rather than your tone being authoritative, the words came out like a broken plea. His tongue circled your nipples. Kissing along every part of you, the honey touched. He mumbled random things, but you were too gone, your poor pussy still throbbing from that life-changing orgasm, and now he’s latched onto your tits like a newborn.
He sucked, caging the nipple between his teeth before applying pressure, seeing how much you could take before you start tapping out. Satoru pinched the other one between his fingers, wiping some of his saliva from it using the silk of your robe. Brutally pinching the erect nipple, twisting and pulling until you yelled his name. Your mind was mush, your body was useless, your mouth was moving, but no words came out. He ruined you in under an hour.
He pulled back when he was finally satisfied with your skin and the masterpiece of hickies he created on it.
“Gorgeous,” he grinned, leaning forward to lick your lips rather than kiss them. You could taste the residue of honey, cum and whipped cream on his tongue.
You stayed silent, looking up at him all pretty, while he admired you. “Seems like the aphrodisiac wore off, yeah?” he said, snapping you back to reality. Maybe it did. But fuck, you couldn’t escape how embarrassing you were before all this when the drug kicked in.
He kissed your reddened cheeks before pulling away. “Go get changed and dressed, Ma’am, the dessert isn’t going to finish itself,” he laughed, pulling back to take one more final look at your appearance. Naked, bare, sexy, wet in all the right places. Fuck, he wouldn’t ever get enough of this sight. If only he could snap a picture.
“Yea-yeah– I should..” you awkwardly said, getting up and wrapping your forgotten robe around your body. Standing up and shuffling towards your discarded panties.
He turned to walk back into the kitchen, but not before you caught a glimpse of the dark grey spot on his sweats.
Did he… cum in his pants?
A/N: been awake for 48 hrs, i'm seeing sound
ꨄ︎Anglbunny | Do not copy, steal or translate my work and pngs. you'll be blocked.
NERDJO broke up with you 4 months ago, give or take. Of course, to be able to focus better on his work. But instead of being a normal person and telling their partner and asking for a break or explaining the situation to them, so both people in the relationship could be happy, he chose the harder and more destructive option. Why wouldn’t he?
Initially, he thought to himself, since exams for semester 1 are coming up, he should be completely focused on studying and not on extra or time-consuming things. Which involved you. You were an extra and a time consumer. Ouch?
Mind you, he explained none of this to you. All that brain and muscle, and he still didn’t know how to treat women. He just shot you a text at 11:38 PM saying let’s break up and he blocked you. Not even bothering to listen to what you had to say.
Then exams came to an end, and he aced everything like the genius he is, and little ol’ you were so heartbroken you couldn’t even open your textbooks. You barely got an above passing grade.
Satoru did consider taking you back after exams, but the thought slipped his mind. While you were dealing with heartbreak, he was dealing with calculus. After the first month, things got better for you and…well… a lot worse for Satoru. He was dealing with withdrawal symptoms. As much as he wanted to just call you, his sky-high ego said no. So much so that he let it affect his studies.
You started doing just fine, going back to your normal single lifestyle. Satoru had forgotten what his world was like before you. He’d stay up well past 2 every night because he forgot how to sleep without you—he started struggling with insomnia, basically.
He’d go through his album of you every night, just looking at your doll-like face. Not getting enough of you, but couldn’t get any of you. Even his roommate Suguru started noticing. The dark circles, the messy hair, the dropping grades.
He’d so much so offered to help, which he rarely does. Only to be met with an ‘I don’t know what to do without her’. Yeah, he couldn’t help much with that. He just sighed, giving his roomie a pat on the shoulder, telling him he should either talk to you or live his life in despair. Harsh, yeah, but that’s Suguru for you.
He’d even see you talking and, worst of all, laughing at other guys. What was this? Mental torture or just pure sadism?
That was until a couple of nights back, when he found a hidden album he’d forgotten about. ‘Her’. That’s it. That was the title. But he knew or remembered exactly what it was, from the cover picture. He shouldn’t, but he did. Where did the line for morally wrong end and borderline creep begin? Those were just semantics, he thought to himself. Getting cozy in his bed and opening the album.
He was fucked the second he found out about this gold mine because he couldn’t stop drooling. You, in all sorts of poses and positions, and fuck. Every angle of you had either your gorgeous face on display or your glistening pussy. Some were videos. Fucking videos.
Satoru wasn’t one to jerk off or watch porn, especially not both—yeah, he’s the type to rawdog a jerk sesh—but right now, none of those things mattered. Because the boner he was sporting wasn’t one to be ignored.
He slipped his hand under the grey sweats and black boxers, wrapping a large hand around his hard-on. He clicked on one picture, stared at it, then scrolled, then stared, then scrolled, all while tugging at his desperate cock.
Till he landed on a video. One you had sent, his thumb hovered over the play button. He knew he shouldn’t do this; when had he become so risqué and lewd? Especially nudes, those never even did anything for him—other than yours, but he wouldn’t admit it. What if you found out? Would you hate him if you already didn’t? All sense of morality flew out the window when his thumb twitched, pressing play, and he was met with the sight of your dripping wet pussy.
He could hear a simmer of audio, instantly turning it up to the sound of you moaning and whimpering, not just noises, but his name. It was you, his pretty girl, moaning his name while playing with your pussy that got so wet cause of him. Yeah, he was done for; he couldn’t even watch the whole thing before he finished in his boxers with minimum movement. He was so whipped.
His hand stayed stationary while he watched the video. 2 little fingers slipping in and out of your cunt, saying his name ad nauseam the whole video. He stared, lost in a trance. Muttering things to himself.
“Fuck baby, you can’t even touch yourself properly, not without me talking you through it. Want me to do it for you?” he groaned, feeling himself grow hard again. “You know I do it so much better. You love my fingers, yeah? Don’t you, doll?”. Calling him delirious would be an understatement.
He watched your pussy twitch and flutter, the movement with your fingers turning sloppy, move them up to focus on your clit. He audibly swallowed, eyes moving up the phone towards your face that was half in frame, a letter ‘o’ forming with your lips while you let out mindless moans. Your whole body jerked as you finished, thighs relaxing, falling onto the mattress. The last thing he saw was you picking up the phone and kissing it and telling him you love him before he stared at the black screen of his phone, turning off. He stared and stared and stared until clicking it open and going to his blocked contact, unblocking you, and hitting call.
And here he thought maybe, just maybe, post-nut clarity could actually bring him some clarity, not more madness.
Once, twice, then by the third ring, you had picked up. Unwillingly, but still had.
“What the hell are you calling me at 3 fucking AM for?” oh how he had missed your sweet voice, even if you weren’t in such a sweet mood.
“Wanted to talk about…” he trailed off. He should’ve thought about it more. Maybe thought of a better excuse, but nada. He came up blank.
“About?”
“I’m sorry..?” his words sounded so unsure that even a lie detector wouldn’t be able to tell if he was being honest or not.
“Yeah? Because by the sounds of it, it seems like it’s your first time hearing it too,” you scoffed, he could hear your eye roll, making him unconsciously smile.
“What does that mean?”
“That means that you’re not actually sorry and you’re just looking for a dumb reason to piss me off,” he sighed, letting your words linger. By the sounds of it, you weren’t tired or asleep. Usually, your voice would be quieter and raspier.
“Why are you awake at this time?” he asked.
“Don’ know. Why are you awake at this time?”
Was it because it was late or because he mad horny but he couldn’t seem to get his emotions under control.
“Was thinking about you,” he said, slipping his hand back down inside his sticky boxers. He twisted his wrist around the tip, pulling it down to the base and back up. Using his own release as lubricant.
“When do you think about anything else but your studies?” you laughed dryly, making him breathe out a laugh. Yeah, you’re right. So what was it about you that had him so addicted and obsessed? Black magic? Couldn’t be.
“Tonight,” he said, his voice sounding more airy.
“And why tonight?” Your voice also dropped; he could instantly tell. Your bedroom voice, as others like to call this type of voice. He wasn’t imagining it, right?
“Because.. Fuck–” he let a groan slip free, moving his hand faster to the sound of your voice. Fuck you sounded so sexy. So hot. So his. The thought of you being with anyone else lit a fire under him. Maybe he was a dick for thinking this, but you only looked good with him.
“Are you ok? Why do you sound like that?” genuine concern lacing your voice. Fuck, sometimes you were so stupid, it only turned him on more.
“Nothing, just keep talking.” he barely got the words out, biting his lower lip to stop himself from being too loud. He heard you sigh before speaking again. But this time you went on and on about anything and everything.
Good.
He finally shut his eyes, letting your adorable voice flow through the phone and go straight to his dick. He was damn near the edge, not aware of how loud he was until your voice cut through.
“Satoru, are you fucking jerking off?” Oh shit.
His hand went still, his body was screaming at him to keep moving, jerking up, trying to catch any sort of movement. He was so close, his poor cock was dripping beads of precum onto the side of his hand.
The way he was whining and begging had you at a loss for words. You have never heard him so needy. Hell, you’ve never even heard him say please more than once. The last few months of built-up sexual frustration must’ve really got to him.
“...fine..” you said begrudgingly. He mentally cheered, slowly moving his hand up and down again, waiting for your voice to come through the speaker again, and when it did, hesitantly, but he wasn’t one to complain (lies), he sped up.
Finishing in less than a second of you talking. His body jerked up, hand tightening around the base, less semen spurted out from it, being his second orgasm in under 30 minutes, but it felt better than the first one because this time, you were here with him.
He wasn’t sure of how long you both stayed on call for, but he ended up falling asleep while you both talked back and forth. Waking up to a dead phone, his hand down his boxers, and a mentally accomplished mindset.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” you asked, a look of shock and disinclination plastered over your face.
“Can we talk?”
“The last time you fucking said that, I was sitting up at night listening to you jerk off.”
“But you stayed, didn’t you?”
“Yeah cause you begged me to, you fucking perv.” Your voice rose at the audacity.
Satoru only shrugged. You couldn’t help but let your eyes linger. After so long, you could properly stare at him, and you did. Especially at the outline of the muscles that was visible from his flannel. Did they get bigger..?
He looked good. The same thick-framed glasses, messy white hair, and those crystal blue eyes staring into you the same way they did when you two first met.
“Are you going to let me in or…”
“No.”
“Please, baby.”
“Fine.” yeah you were a lost cause at this point. Your friends better prepare another box of tissues for your stupidity. You couldn’t help but eye his back as he walked inside your dorm.
“We will NOT be fucking. Is that clear satoru?”
“Opaque”
This dick. Well, to be frank, you weren’t even sure if you believed your own words.
A/N: why do i post so late, got kinda long, not edited
ꨄ︎Anglbunny | Do not copy, steal or translate my work and pngs. you'll be blocked.
SMUT MDNI, BOSS'S SON!MEGUMI X EMPLOYEE!READER, OFFICE SEX,
thinking about megumi, who's an entitled little brat, and also your bosses son. so whatever he wants, he gets, unless you're willing to lose your job
You knew he was trouble the second you met him.
Sharp, messy suit. Sharper eyes. Quiet. Polite. Dangerous.
Megumi Fushiguro — heir to the company, son of your boss, and way too good at making you forget where you were.
Like right now.
“You’re late,” he murmurs, door clicking shut behind you. You’re still holding the file folder you came to drop off. “Again.”
“I—I was finishing payroll. I didn’t think—”
“That’s your problem.”
He steps in. Closer.
“You don’t think.”
Your back hits his desk.
The folder drops from your hands.
His eyes drop with it — slow — and he hums, like he’s not mad at all. Like he’s amused. And that’s somehow worse.
“Bend over and pick it up,” he says.
Your breath stutters.
He waits.
And because you’re already burning, already soaked under your skirt from just the way he’s looking at you — you do it.
You turn around, he's already too close, your ass brushes up against his crotch. You Hear his breath hitch. Feel the way his hand slides over your ass just before he pushes your skirt up.
Lace panties. Thin. Useless.
He clicks his tongue. snapping them against your skin.
“You wore these on purpose,” he says, voice too calm. “Knew you’d end up in my office again.”
“I didn’t—”
“Don’t lie.”
He steps in closer, close enough that you feel the heat of him, the slow drag of his belt as he undoes it.
“You want to keep your job, right?”
You nod quickly. Too quickly.
“Then don’t make a sound.”
He pulls your panties to the side. rubbing the fat head of his pink cock over your entrance, your pussy flutters around him. he pushes the tip in, watching you reach up to grip the edge of the desk.
he smirks. he slams in, balls deep. Your boss's son is balls deep inside your cunt. fucking hell.
Just one deep, slow thrust that makes your eyes roll and your legs nearly give out — and his hand wraps around your throat before you can cry out.
“Look at you,” he murmurs against your ear, tightening just enough to make your head spin. “All this attitude during meetings. And you melt the second I touch you.”
You whimper.
“Should make you sit on my lap next time your team presents,” he mutters. “Keep you still. Keep you quiet.”
You nod, barely.
And he groans — low, hot — like that’s exactly what he wanted.
“Next time, don’t be late,” he says. “Or I’ll make you ride me while my father’s down the hall.”
SMUT MDNI, NAME KINK, SPANKING
thinking about gojo satoru who hates when you call him by his last name when you guys are doing it...
You’re on your back, hands pinned above your head with one of his, your wrists wrapped in a pink ribbon like it’s a gift you’re not allowed to open yet. He’s above you, shirtless and smug, lips slightly parted, white lashes fluttering over intense blue eyes that glow in the dim light.
And all because you said one thing.
Just one thing.
“Gojo, please—”
He freezes. The smirk drops.
Wrong move.
His grip tightens just enough to make your breath hitch, his other hand trailing down between your legs with deliberate, maddening slowness. But it doesn’t reach where you need it. No — he stops, fingers ghosting over your thigh.
“What did you just call me?” His voice drops low, syrupy and dangerous.
You blink up at him, mouth parted. “I— Gojo, I didn’t—”
Slap.
Not painful, but just enough of a sting as his palm connects with your inner thigh.
He leans closer, lips brushing your ear now. “That’s strike two.”
You’re breathless, squirming. “What was strike one?”
“Calling me anything but Satoru. Especially when I’m the one making you feel like this.”
You swallow. The look in his eyes is feral. Hungry.
Then he smirks again — that arrogant, toe-curling grin returning. “You wanna come tonight, sweetheart?”
You nod quickly.
“Then say it.” His lips brush yours, not kissing, just teasing. “Beg properly. Use my name.”
You whisper it, hesitant, “Satoru…”
He clicks his tongue. “Louder. I want the whole floor to know who’s making you this fucking desperate.”
You whimper, cheeks burning, but you give in. “Satoru, please— I need you, I need you so bad…”
And just like that, he gives you everything.
Because when you say his name like that?
It drives him insane.
Ex suguru geto who'd show up at your doorstep at 3am asking for his hoodie back. Because whats a better time to get something back than at 3am.
It ends with your thighs pressed to the mattress, he laps at your pussy like a starved man. Your fingers tangled in his hair as he tells you to pull harder. He'll slip inside 2 fingers while making a mess out of you because he knows it'll make you moan his name.
And when he's done, he'll kiss your cheek, dropping the hoodie on top of you.
Inspired by “Habits” by Tove Lo | Reader x Gojo (after his death), angst, don't ask what this is. It's very random
You sleep in his shirt.
Not because it smells like him — it doesn’t anymore — but because your fingers remember the shape of his shoulders, the way the fabric clung to him after a shower, soft and wrinkled and so him.
You drink. A lot.
Anything strong. Anything that burns enough to distract you for a second. Enough to blur the memory of his blood on the ground. Of his smile — the last one, the real one — crooked and blinding and unfair.
You fuck strangers.
You close your eyes and pretend it’s him. It never is. No one holds your face like he did. No one laughs between kisses or whispers your name like it’s a joke only he gets.
You sit on rooftops.
Where he used to take you. You light a cigarette you don’t finish and watch the sun rise like it owes you something — like it shouldn’t still dare to rise without him.
Thinking about men who have a disgusting size kink.
“You sure you can handle this, baby?” he murmurs, voice low and thick with heat, eyes raking over your trembling body. His hand wraps slowly around the base of his cock — big, heavy, flushed dark, leaking at the tip.
You swallow hard. He watches you with that smirk again — the one he wears when he knows he’s too much.
“You’re always actin’ so innocent,” he growls, slowly stroking himself, eyes flickering between your legs. “But every time I pull this out, you look at me like you’re starvin’.”
You whimper, hips shifting instinctively. He chuckles darkly.
“Fuckin’ love how tiny you are,” he whispers, pushing your thighs open, rough hands dwarfing your waist. “Love how your pretty little pussy struggles to take me.”
He lines himself up, rubbing the thick head against your entrance, groaning when he feels just how wet you are.
“Look at that,” he mutters, pressing in a fraction. “Barely inside, and you’re already twitchin’.”
Your breath hitches as the stretch burns, overwhelming but addictive. Your hands grip his forearms, nails digging in.
“F-Fuck—”
“I got you,” he grits, voice wrecked with restraint. “C’mon. Let me in. Be a good girl and open up f’me.”
He pushes deeper, inch by inch, groaning as you clamp down, gasping under him. “Goddamn… you feel that? That’s all me, baby.” he places a large hand on your lower stomach, pressing down so you feel every inch that's entering you. You claw at his chest, spewing nonsense, tears staining your cheeks at the impossible stretch.
It shouldn't be humanly possible to be this big. He taps your cheek, bringing you back. "You with me? Stay with me, doll. I know it hurts, it'll feel better very soon"
You nod desperately, legs trembling around his hips.
“Yeah,” he whispers against your ear, thrusting just enough to make your body jolt. “Take it. Take all of me like the perfect fuckin’ girl you are.”
You should’ve known Satoru Gojo wouldn’t take you seriously.
Leaning back in the stiff chair across from your desk, legs spread obnoxiously wide, eyes hidden behind those stupid sunglasses, he didn’t even try to act like he was listening. You droned on about his attendance, the assignments he hasn’t turned in, the grades that were circling the drain. He looked at the ceiling, the clock, his phone, until finally your voice snapped sharp—stern, professional, done.
“Gojo, if you don’t pull your grades up, you’re going to have to repeat this class. That’s not a warning anymore—it’s a fact.”
That finally made his attention flick lazily toward you, lips curling into that cocky, frat boy smirk. “Damn, teach, you sound so serious… makes me think you want me to stick around longer.”
You clenched your jaw, ready to throw him out, but he leaned forward, elbows on his knees, voice dropping into something sinfully low.
“Or maybe… I could raise my grade another way?”
You blinked. “…Excuse me?”
Gojo’s grin widened, tongue flicking over his teeth. “C’mon, now. Don’t play dumb. Bet you get off on being in control, huh? All that authority. But when’s the last time someone made you beg?”
You stood to dismiss him, heart pounding, but before you could speak, he was already around the desk, crowding you, caging you in. He smelled like expensive cologne, bad decisions, and frat party smoke. And despite every fiber of your professional brain screaming no—your body melted when he pressed you down onto your own desk, his palm splayed over the small of your back.
And that’s how you ended up here.
Bent over like a cheap slut on campus, skirt bunched around your hips, his cock slamming deep into you, stretching you until your vision blurred. The sound of skin slapping filled the empty lecture hall, along with your helpless moans, drool slipping from the corner of your mouth as you clawed at the polished wood.
“See, Ms.l/n,” Gojo groaned behind you, fucking into you like he owned your body, “bet you never got ruined on your own fuckin’ desk, huh? Look at you—fuckin’ drooling. S’this the face of a professional? Yeah? You like when the student teaches you a lesson?”
You couldn’t answer—not when his hand was around your throat, making you dizzy, high off the filthy way he stretched you out. All you could do was take it, sobbing his name into the varnish while he pounded into you like he wanted you to fail him.
And Gojo?
Gojo was grinning, knowing he’d just found his new favorite after-class activity.
could u perhaps write toji x reader smut where reader is very innocent and (if youre comfortable ofc!!!) has a religious background so she doesnt know anything abt nsfw but then toji teaches her and corrupts reader. like spanking and everything and just straight up nasty
feel free to ignore btw and love ur work!
Forgive me ♡ Toji fushiguro
.ᐟcw: smut mdni, corruption kink, angel!reader, reader is somewhat religious, mentions of cross necklace, size kink? dumbification kinda?
Good girl. Religious. You’ve never even touched the opposite gender. Hell you’ve never even thought about it.
And Toji?
He’s everything you were warned about.
Sin in the shape of a man.
Smirks like he knows your secrets.
Hands that look like they were made to ruin girls like you. You meet him when you're helping out at your church's outreach program. He’s there for “security.” But the second he sees you in that little pastel dress, cardigan pulled tight over your chest, a cross necklace sitting just above the swell of your cleavage?
He makes it his mission to ruin you. You’re in toji’s apartment when you know you shouldn’t be. He said he needed some ‘assistance’ with something. You happily agreed but now you’re on his bed, legs tucked under you, soft dress covering your thighs, your hands intertwined on your lap, fiddling with your fingers.
He sat infront of you, leaned back on the headboard of the bed, manspreading. He was nearly twice your size, he looked so intimidating. “You’ve never done anything, have you” his voice catches you off guard, eyes shooting up to meet his.
watching you like a predator.
You shake your head. "No. Nothing. I'm not… I shouldn't—"
"You scared?" he asks, tilting his head.
You nod. "I-I was taught it's a sin, and I don't want to—" he scoffs, grabbing you by your wrist and pulling you on top of him. You yelp, clinging onto his shirt. You’re too close. His muscles flex under the black compression shirt, hands trembling. You stare at him with wide eyes, thighs straddling his lap, knees digging into the mattress.
He adjusts you, roughly. Placing you right on top of his crotch. Something thick, hard pokes you. “You feel that? That for you, angel” he grins, large hands situated on your waist. "Does that feel evil to you? Or does it feel good?" he’s mean, toji chuckles, making you grind down onto him. Your body trembling in his hold, hands clenched around his shirt over his bicep.
“We shouldn’t.. It’s wrong” you whimper, not even having the guts to look into his eyes. His evil eyes.
“Then tell me, what’s right, angel?”
“I..”
“That you should only do this after you’re married, is that what you’re told, hm?” you don’t reply, giving an unsure nod.
“You don’t know yourself, do you?” he pauses, hands finding the end of your dress, they slip under, moving up to grab your plump ass. “It’s okay, you’ll know if it’s wrong or right by the time i’m done with you”
He’s on top of you, dress bunched up to your waist, thumb rubbing over your clit. The pretty panties you had on were in shreds on the floor.
“You’re so wet, it’s making me think that you weren’t so innocent after all” you trembled, back of your hand covering your mouth, you could see your cross necklace catching light on his side table. It’s too late to go back now.
Toji manhandles you, flipping you over so your ass is in the air, face shoved into the pillows.
“Scream as loud as you want, angel, it turns me on” he whispers against your ear, he pulls out his fat leaking cock. One hand on the back of your head, pushing you down into the pillows, you can’t breathe but who cares.
“Might hurt” was the last thing you heard before you swore it felt like something was splitting you open, his mean, red tip pushed past your tight entrance. Your clenching around him, your pussy throbbing, it’s way too fucking much.
It feels like he’s splitting you in two, your body trembling as your mind screams you're not supposed to like this. But God, it’s addicting. Every inch feels like a sin you can't confess. Until he bottoms out, base of his cock pressed against your sloppy cunt. He pulls you back by your hair, letting you gasp for air.
“Toji.. ‘s too big.. In my stomach” you cry out, slurring your words like a drunk. He laughs, letting go of your hair, letting you fall forward. He grabs your hips, fingers digging into the soft untouched skin. He moves. Agonizingly slow, pulling out, almost all out before slamming back into you. Your body jumps, rocking higher up the bed. The pillow between your teeth. Your fingers wrapped around the sheets, knuckles turning white. He does that a few times, letting you adjust. Before speeding up.
Your hands reach forward pulling at the pillow, mouth hanging open, eyes rolling to the back of your head, who would’ve thought something so sinful could feel like heaven. Maybe he was taking you there.
“Toji! Mm, ohmygod pleasee” you cried out, he slapped your ass, hard. Your throat hurts from screaming. The pain didn’t get any better but something did shift towards pleasure. He slapped your ass again and again until it was sore and red. You trembled, shaking, biting your lip.
“Fuck, that’s it, take it like the little slut you are” “Say it. Say you want to be ruined.”
You’re crying. Shaking. Nodding.
"Please… please ruin me, Toji. I want to be yours."
And when he finally lets you finish, it’s so toe curling, back arching into the bed, your ass in perfect view for him. You can barely moan cause your voice is half gone. Your hands are pulling at the pillow you’re drooling on. He watches you fall apart. Watches innocence bleed from your eyes.
“That’s it, angel. Let it go. You’re mine now. All mine.” he groans before finally slipping out your tight, abused pussy and coming on top of it, painting it the perfect angelic shade of white.
“Shh, i never said you can speak” geto’s voice spoke up, all he had been giving you for the past 30 minutes were 2 fingers. Only 2. Not even his thumb on your clit.
Every time you got too loud, he’d pull out and make you beg for it. He leaned down kissing your nipples, lips trailing down your chest.
“You don’t even deserve my cock yet..” he whispered, biting down on your supple skin making you cry out. Your cheeks were already tear stained, flushed, fingers wrapped around the bed sheet, fisting it tight enough to make it wrinkly.
You cunt was so messy, sloppy and wet. So overstimulated but he didn’t stop.
“Want my cock?” you immediately nodded, pleading with your eyes. He only laughed at you, wiping your tears away. His thumb finally pressed against your clit and it had you arching off the bed. Your entire body shook but you craved more.
“Cry a little more for me, baby. Then maybe I’ll give you what you really want.”
Thinking about husband!nanami unwinding after a long day...
The door clicks shut and you already know—he had one of those days. Long. Draining. The kind that settles into his bones and tightens in his shoulders. You peek over from the couch, and there he is: Nanami Kento, your husband, loosening his tie with that telltale look in his eyes.
Quiet. Tense. Controlled.
Until those eyes land on you.
"Rough day?" you ask softly, setting your book down.
He doesn’t answer right away—just shrugs off his blazer, rolls up his sleeves, and walks toward you with slow, deliberate steps. That tired, polished mask he wears for everyone else starts to crack, just a little, just enough.
"I don’t want to talk about it," he murmurs, hands already finding your hips. "I just want you."
And God, does he mean it.
He kisses you like he’s starving. Desperate. Like you’re the only thing in the world that can silence the chaos in his mind. His hands roam—firm, rough, pulling you into his lap like you weigh nothing.
"You always make me feel better," he breathes against your throat, hot lips brushing skin. "So good to me. So perfect."
His tiredness doesn’t slow him down—if anything, it makes him rougher. He fucks the stress out of his system with every thrust. Drives himself deep into you like he’s trying to forget the world outside your bedroom. Whispers filthy things in your ear with that low, steady voice, every word soaked in praise and possession.
"You feel like heaven."
"You’re mine. No one else gets this."
"Let me come home to this every night."
You hold him through it all—fingers tangled in his hair, body trembling under the weight of his need. And when it’s over, when he finally spills with a groan pressed against your neck, he doesn’t let you go.
Not for a long time.
Just stays there, wrapped around you, as the tension finally leaves his body—replaced by your warmth, your softness, your love.
“Thank you,” he says quietly. And you feel it in your chest.
Because with Nanami, every word is a vow.
“You didn’t even try on the midterm,” he chuckles, tongue pressing into his cheek as he eyes you kneeling in front of him. “So lazy, baby. But at least now you’re finally on your knees where you belong.”
His belt clinks as he undoes it, the sound making your thighs squeeze together. You should be embarrassed. Maybe you are. But the moment he pulls out his cock—thick, flushed, leaking—you forget how to breathe.
“Open.” He snaps his fingers. “Mouth, now. Let’s see if you’re better at this than writing a damn essay.”
You obey instantly, lips parting, tongue out, eyes wide like the perfect little student. He groans when he slips in—slow at first, just the tip resting heavy on your tongue.
“Fuck,” he mutters, grip tightening in your hair. “Bet your GPA would be so much higher if this was part of the curriculum.”
He starts to thrust, shallow at first, letting you get used to the stretch, but he’s not gentle. Not tonight. He’s grading your performance with every slap of his hips against your lips, every gag you let out when he pushes deeper.
“You like this, huh?” he pants, looking down at the tears spilling from your eyes. “Slutty little thing… can’t pass my class, but you can swallow my cock like it’s extra credit.”
You moan around him. His head tips back, white hair messy, voice rough.
“God, you’re such a fucking mess for me. Look at you—makeup ruined, drool all over your chin, and you still want more? Dirty fucking girl.”
He pulls out with a wet pop, dragging you up to your feet, spinning you around to bend over his desk. Your panties are soaked, your skirt bunched up, thighs trembling.
“Gonna fuck your stupidness outta you,” he growls, lining himself up. “Make sure next time you really study… because if you don't, you'll be back here with your pussy on display for me.” he pauses before smirking, "but we both know you'll fail on purpose just to suck me off again"
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