#gojo

[cumchiato]

Thinking about Gojo Satoru using you as gym equipment ♡

୨୧ — "Need something heavier than plates," Gojo muses in the training room, those blue eyes sparkling with mischief as they land on you. Before you can protest, he's already scooped you up.

"Satoru!" you squeal as he positions himself on the exercise mat, settling you to straddle his hips while he lies back. "This is not what I meant when I said l'd help you workout," you giggle. His hands grip your thighs firmly as he starts his "workout."

"But you make such perfect resistance training," he pouts, flexing his abs as he starts thrusting his hips upward, lifting you effortlessly.

Each movement has you bouncing on his pelvis, your core clenching involuntarily... "the perfect weight-" he grins, powerful hips driving up to lift you again, "Though maybe I should add some resistance..."

His fingers slip beneath your workout shorts, finding you already slick, "Oh~?" He wiggles his eyebrows at you, "Someone's enjoying being used as gym equipment~"

You bite your lip as he starts timing his thrusts with teasing circles against your clit. "N' t-this isn't... proper exercise form..."

"No?" His hips snap up sharply, making you gasp, "Seems like excellent muscle engagement to me. Plus..." he slides two fingers inside you while maintaining his rhythmic thrusts, "my fingers are getting some bonus cardio."

Your hands brace on his chest as he continues his "workout," each upward drive of his hips pushing his fingers deeper, "Satoooru... some-someone could come in... this is hah~ a public g-gym..." you bite your lip to stifle a deep moan.

"Better hold on tight then," he groans, increasing not only his hips pace, but his fingers as well, "Got about fifty reps to go... unless you tap out first~"

You whimper as he curls his fingers, knowing full well you won't last nearly that long... and that's exactly what he's counting on.

"Besides," he smirks up at you, "this is much more fun than regular weights. They don't make such pretty noises."

"Satoru!" you moan as he hits a sensitive spot, your nails biting into him.

"That's it, baby," he encourages, his movements growing more intense. "Help me work up a sweat."

[rllyobsessedgirlie]

Fratjo breaks up with you and instantly regrets it — series

The apology

The fourth letter never gets delivered because Satoru Gojo finally snaps after you had disregarded his attempt to speak to you.

The rain was heavier than when he saw you this afternoon, the kind that soaks through his sweatshirt and drips from his eyelashes.

The dorm lady is halfway through her crossword when he runs past the front desk.

“Hey—”

She was too late. He’s already taking the stairs two at a time.

By the time he reaches your floor, his chest is heaving, his hands are shaking. Not from the cold, but from fear.

Because for the first time since he broke up with you, he realizes something awful.

You might actually never forgive him.

The thought hits harder than any linebacker ever has.

So he pounds on your door.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Loud enough that doors start opening up and down the hallway. Girls peek their heads out, mouths open with shock.

“Is that Gojo?”

“No way.”

The football star doesn’t care.

He bangs again. “Please.”

His voice cracks. “Please open the door.”

Silence.

Then he hears the lock click.

The door opens painfully slow, but there you are. Swearpants… and is that his oversized hoodie? Did you miss him ?

The look on your face said otherwise. He had never seen this look directed at him before. Was it indifference? Was it annoyance?

God it hurt.

For a second neither of you speak.

Then your eyes flick down to where he’s standing. He was drenched, a puddle of water forming at his shoes. His eyes were red, he looked miserable. Pathetic even.

“What are you doing here?” Your voice is flat.

Gojo swallows. “I just need five minutes.”

“No.”

The door starts closing.

His hand catches it, “please.” His voice breaks again.

You freeze.

The hallway has gotten noticeably quieter.

Everyone is watching you. He knows they are and for once he doesn’t care what people think of him.

“I know you don’t want to see me.”

“Then leave,” you said sternly.

“I can’t.” His eyes are already shining. “I tried leaving.”

Your expression falters, just barely.

“I tried giving you space.” A broken laugh escapes him. “Apparently I can’t do that either.”

The girls down the hall are openly staring now, some are getting closer to hear the conversation. Others are pulling out their phones too, recording.

You notice, your jaw tightens and that annoyed look returns.

Gojo notices too.

And maybe that’s the thing that finally breaks him, he thinks you’re going to shut the door on him again.

So he does the unimaginable, and drops straight to his knees.

The hallway erupts. Gasps, whispers, and chuckles.

“Oh my God.”

“That’s embarrassing.”

“Is he crying?”

And he is. Rainwater and tears mixed together. He doesn’t care how humiliated and embarrassing he looks. Nothing matters anymore.

“Gojo—”

“No.”

He grabs your wrist desperately before you can pull away.“Please.”

The word comes out shattered. “Please just hear me out.”

Your eyes widen.

He’s never looked like this. Not the cocky quarterback, the football hero.

Right now he’s just your Satoru.

“Get inside,” you whisper. “You’ve embarrassed yourself enough.” He follows your eyes to the girls in your dorm hall. Judging, laughing, mouths wide open, in awe at his behaviour.

And to that, he scurries into your dorm room, tripping and falling back onto his knees. He stays there, because frankly he doesn’t have it in him to face you head on.

Silence follows, because he really didn’t expect you to give him the time of day. He hadn’t planned this far.

“I messed up.” His voice trembles.

You stare.

Gojo’s head drops; and before he can stop himself, his arms wrap around your legs. Holding on like you’re the only thing keeping him upright.

Which, honestly, might be true. He can feel his face burning; but he doesn’t let go.

You don’t shrug him off, and god does this contact he’s having with you feel comforting. It’s the first time he has touched you in two months. Tears prick his eyes again, as he nuzzles his head into your legs.

“I was wrong.” The words come muffled against sweatpants.

“I was so wrong.”

“Satoru.”

“No.” His grip tightens.

“I thought I was doing the right thing.” Another shaky breath.

“I thought if I focused on football everything would work out.” He laughs bitterly.

“Turns out I was just an idiot.”

Your chest aches despite the hate you felt for him after the break up. This isn’t the Satoru who broke your heart.

This is one who can’t even look at you. The one shaking like he’s terrified you’ll disappear again.

“I miss you.” His voice is barely audible.

“I miss talking to you.” A tear slides down his cheek.

“I miss hearing about your classes.”

“I miss getting you sugary coffee in the morning.”

“I miss annoying you in the library and I miss you trying to help me study.”

You blink.

For the first time in months, a tiny smile almost appears.

Gojo notices, an his eyes immediately fill with hope.

“I love you…I never stopped loving you. I’m so sorry, I’ve been such a dick,” he sniffles.

You close your eyes. This is a problem you thought to yourself. You know he means it. The idiot means every word. Which somehow makes it worse.

When you open your eyes again, he’s still there.

Still kneeling.

Still holding onto you.

Waiting. Like a man standing in front of a judge. Waiting for his sentence.

Finally you sigh. “If you think this” you point to him and the scene he created, “fixes anything, you’re dumber than I thought.”

He looks up at you, big glassy blue eyes, bottom lip quivering from crying.

His shoulders immediately slump. “That’s fair.”

“You hurt me.”

“I know.” His eyes lower.

The room falls silent.

Then—“If I ever forgive you…”

Gojo looks up so fast he almost gets whiplash.

“…there’s a lot of work to do.”

The hope on his face is painful. “You mean that?”

“I mean maybe, if there’s change.”

For Gojo, that feels like winning the lottery. “I’ll do it.” His answer comes instantly. “I’ll do anything.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Anything?”

He nods his head, standing up now.

“No complaints?”

“Nope. Whatever you want me to do.” Gojo stares like you’ve hung the moon.

And for the first time since the breakup, he thinks—

Maybe.

He hasn’t lost you forever.

Dividers by: @strangergraphics

[sp1ritb0x]

Pilot !!!! Gojo!!!

[torubeetle]

you and husband!satoru experiencing some of your baby’s firsts ^^

⟢   ּ ۪  ⊹ her first laugh was at his expense. he had been walking around the house, trying to get her to stop fussing, when he turned a corner and his toe accidentally connected with the wall. it took everything he had not to expose his poor daughter to foul language at an innocent 4 months, but holy fuck did that hurt. he was wincing in pain when he heard it. the quiet giggle of his baby.

he whipped his head up in accusation, demanding, “did you just laugh?? at me stubbing my toe?” as if she could answer. he turned to you, who was sitting on the couch folding laundry. “you heard that, right?”

you nodded, watching the interaction. “she laughed at you. pretend to do it again.”

he walked backwards slowly and pretended to hit his foot again with an exaggerated “ow!” and lo and behold, the baby burst into loud giggles and squealing, her tiny body just wracked with laughter like it was the funniest thing she’d ever seen. satoru was astonished and extremely sentimental.

“she’s totally laughing at me getting hurt!” your husband chuckled in disbelief, turning to you with accusation like you were going to do something about this. “her first laugh ever and it’s at me stubbing my toe. she hates me.”

“she’s a baby, she can’t hate anything yet,” you offered, giggling. “she thinks it’s funny ‘cause you make that stupid face every time you accidentally hurt yourself.”

“so you hate me too? got it,” he grumbled, giving you a nasty side-eye before focusing back on the giggling infant in his arms. “you are just in stitches, huh? huh?” he cooed, tickling her tummy. funny enough, though, tickling actually stopped her laughter. satoru looked her in the face skeptically, and she stared back with those huge eyes like she was expecting him to hurt himself again for her amusement.

“…so you’re exclusive to me getting hurt? that’s funny to you, but not being tickled like a normal baby?”

⟢   ּ ۪  ⊹ her first time crawling happened when you two had been playing around on the carpet, her tiny body propped between your legs so she could “sit” against your belly and play with the toys in front of her. she seemed to be having the time of her life with the same old rattle and stuffed bear, until she accidentally shook the former too hard and flung it under the coffee table.

“uh-ohhh,” you smiled down at her as she turned her head to blink up at you like it was your fault. “what happened, silly girl?” she only squealed, waving her chubby arms and grabbing at your hands as if to demand you go get it.

satoru came from the bathroom and plopped onto the carpet with you two, ready to grab the rattle and hand it back to his daughter, but you stopped him. “wait, let her try to get it.”

gently, you nudged your baby’s back to encourage her, pointing at the rattle. “look, munchkin, there it is, see?” you cooed, helping her onto her tummy to make it easier for her. “can you crawl to daddy and get it?”

satoru whipped his phone out immediately. “come on, princess! cooommee on, come to daddy! you can do it!”

she was apprehensive at first, but curiosity, and a need for her toy, seemed to get the best of her. it was a bit of a struggle, her tiny body wriggling in place for a moment before she discovered her arms and legs weren’t completely useless. the baby was wobbly, but she eventually began to crawl, one stride at a time.

“oh my god!” satoru started hollering before you could even get the words out. “ohmygodohmygodohmygod.”

“you’re getting this??” you made sure, and he nodded furiously. both of you continued to cheer her on until she made it to both her father and the rattle (she really only wanted one of those things) without ever toppling over. she shrieked as her dad picked her up, smushing her chubby cheeks with his lips, praising and cuddling her.

“good jooobbb, princess!” he cooed, tossing her in the air. “oouuuhh, you’re gonna be running around soon… stop growing so fast, you’re gonna give daddy gray hair…”

⟢   ּ ۪  ⊹ her first steps were just as dramatic, if not more. you and satoru had been practicing letting her stand on her own, but she was just shy of 12 months, right around the age to take a few experimental steps if she so pleased. satoru wasn’t ready.

“if she starts walking, that means she’ll be running around soon!” he’d complained to you during tummy time. he’d placed a hand on her little head like it would stop her from growing completely. “and once she starts running, she’ll wanna talk to boys and then she’ll be bringing one home and he’ll be a total asshole and then i’ll have to—”

“language,” you had corrected him sternly.

“—sorry, he’ll be a total loser, is that better, and then i’ll have to kill him!” he’d flopped over onto the carpet in his all-encompassing sorrow, an arm over his face like an idiot, demanding, “tell her not to grow up! tell her!”

it was that conversation that played in your head as you watched your baby girl let go of your husband’s trembling hands and begin to waddle on her tiny feet towards you across the carpet. the same tiny feet that you and satoru had fussed over and kissed countless times when she was just a newborn.

satoru couldn’t get his phone out fast enough, and the tears along with it. you left him alone about it this time: you felt more than a little misty-eyed yourself.

“c’mon, sweet girl!” you encouraged her, beaming as the excitement of it all made her giggle. “come to mommy!” she fell into your arms, just a bundle of loud laughter as you and satoru congratulated her with all the praise in the world.

𐔌 ۪ ઈઉ ᩙ a/n:: another part to the baby series

[mimuju]

fratjo never goes down… unless its you, of course ! (⸝⸝> ω <⸝⸝)

the first rule of being satoru gojo was simple: you never, ever went down on a girl.

“it’s undignified,” he declared, leaning back in the worn-out frat house armchair, one leg slung over the arm. a bottle of cheap beer dangled from his fingers. “like, biologically, it makes no sense. you’re putting your face in a swamp. a swamp.i have standards.”

his friends—a chorus of nodding, beer-addled bros—laughed and clinked bottles in agreement. “preach, man!”

“seriously,” gojo continued, warming to his theme, his white hair glowing under the shitty fluorescent light. “what’s in it for me? the view is mid. the taste is questionable. naaah. my talents are better utilized elsewhere.” he gestured vaguely with the bottle. “let them worship me. that’s the natural order. i’m a giver, sure, but that’s just… not in my repertoire. ever.”

he said it with such absolute, unshakeable conviction that it became gospel in the frat house. gojo doesn’t eat pussy. it was a known fact, like the sky being blue or his ego being planetary in size.

cut to three hours later.

the same satoru gojo is currently buried so deep between your thighs he might need a rescue team. the arrogant smirk is gone, replaced by a look of single-minded, desperate devotion. his glasses are discarded somewhere on your bedroom floor.

“fuuuhhck,” he slurs, the word muffled against your skin as his tongue—that clever, wicked tongue he claimed was too good for this—lashes your clit in tight, frantic circles. “fuck, fuck, fuck… mmmh, so good…”

he’s not just doing it. he’s feasting. one large hand pins your hip to the mattress, the other is tangled in the sheets like he’s holding on for dear life. the wet, obscene sounds filling the room are coming from him as much as from you— slurps, groans, hungry hums that vibrate straight to your core. each flick of his tongue draws a new, breathy moan from him, a symphony of whines and low, possessive growls.

you card your fingers through his sweaty white hair, tugging gently. “t-thought you didn’t do this,” you gasp, arching into his mouth.

he pulls off just enough to growl, his lips and chin glistening. “shut up,” he breathes, pupils blown wide, looking utterly pussydrunk. a string of saliva connects his lower lip to your folds. “you taste like fucking heaven. ‘s different.” he nuzzles back in, inhaling deeply with a shuddering sigh. “god, you smell so good… mmph…” then he dives back in with a needy whimper, his nose pressing against you as he laps at your entrance, drinking you down like a man dying of thirst. every swallow is punctuated by a soft, satisfied groan from the back of his throat.

he’s lost all composure, all his cool, frat-boy posturing dissolved into a primal, whimpering mess. he moans into you, a continuous, low-pitched moans synced with the thrust of his tongue, his hips grinding uselessly against the mattress. when your legs start to shake around his head, he lets out a muffled, encouraging “yesssss, c’mon, baby, g-give it to me— n-need it s'bad—”

when you finally come, crying out his name, he doesn’t pull away. he rides out every pulse with his tongue, swallowing every drop, a deep, resonant sigh of pleasure vibrating against your oversensitive flesh until you’re pushing his head away, trembling and spent.

he collapses beside you, breathing raggedly, a dazed, blissed-out smile on his slick lips. he looks ruined, triumphant, and utterly, completely yours. he lets out a long, shaky exhale that’s almost a laugh.

“…okay,” he pants after a minute, turning to nuzzle your shoulder. he presses a lazy, open-mouthed kiss to your skin. “maybe i do go down. but only for you.” he licks his lips, still tasting you, and lets out another soft, involuntary sigh. “and you better not tell anyone.”

"we'll see about that," you just smile, running a thumb over his swollen lower lip.

slut : @sadisticslut666

perm - @whorishminds @throatgoatgeto @go-go-gadget-autism @thecrazyfangirlthings@grignardsreagent @strawberryshortcakkitty @naammiii @liasacountgothacked @annicishana @my-starlights@error-racoon-404 @afreakforyautja @cupidstrace @iam-souless @sindulgent666 @chewiebee @tojisballhair@ex1acy @palanggaaa @yourlocalcatscammer @ehcilhc @gravecyte @restingoasis @satorupi @laburantesdoll@sxpernova @thethyri @lostgeto @lilytrn @mikaari0 @chososballhair @nanamissilkytie @iwasabs @tojis-juicymantitys @laitifly @farylfordaryl @bl1ndv3lvet @booboobear-12 @6arcxm @sleeplessdancer @chloeee20 @deartoru @neptunezxx @ash273819 @sketchbonked @vanillakirstein @valberryboos @itimisu @livviaaaaa@kebablover @babyluvlol @audreytoru @silverwfern @lynf1n1ty @0-kry

[chososprettygirl]

3 - LOVE ⚾︎︎

SATOSUGU X (tennis player) READER

based off the challengers movie ! i have zero actual tennis knowledge !!

SUMMARY tennis prodigy, satoru gojo and his equally talented best friend, suguru geto, can’t help the campus crush they develop on you after watching your matches and training at the campus courts. when you end up at the same women and men’s respective tournament they figure after you follow them back to their room all the competition’s done for… unfortunately that’s not the case for them.

CONTENT fem!reader, gego/satosugu, f/m + m/m, love triangle, smut, fluff, threesomes (mmf), bisexual gojo + geto, terrible depiction of tennis, messy relationships — more to be added

⏤͟͟͞͞ ⚾︎ GAME TAPES

ONE, TWO, THREE,

FOUR, FIVE, SIX, SEVEN,

EIGHT, NINE

comment or send in an ask to be tagged !

[strawberrym00nx]

love game. 🎀 (PLAYBOY!SATORU x SWEETHEART!READER)

you met him at a party that your friend dragged you to.

two and a half drinks in, you found the courage to dance. and once he caught sight of you, he knew he had to have you.

using his powers, he pulled you to him from across the room. while looking into your pretty eyes, he found peace. you gulped. blinking softly at the stranger, your body wanting to give in immediately.

he gets any girl he wants. but you're different. insisting on friendship and courting before even letting him think about kissing you.

but gosh, you make that all so difficult.

he thinks you're quite mean.

the way you prance around in the sexiest clothes he's ever seen on a woman. the way your eyelashes are curled so perfectly he's certain you're an angel that has descended from heaven. the way you always smell so sweet and warm. the way your laughter brightens up his entire life. the way you hug him, pressing your cheek to his chest as you say goodbye and thank him for the dates he takes you on.

the way you're giving him a fashion show right now, showing off your new shorts and skirts and dresses as if you don't know he fists his cock to the thought of you every night. or that he hasn't been able to hook up with another girl without going soft until he thinks of you.

he swallows thickly, smiling. eyes traveling up your thighs, your torso, your throat. he adjusts his position on the seat.

you're smiling at him, twirling around. 'do you like this, satoru?' you ask sweet as summer fruit.

'you know I do, baby girl,' he tells you, voice darker than usual.

you're walking over to him, eyes dazzling. 'thanks for the shopping spree,' you chirp seductively. pressing a kiss to his cheek. his eyes close as he cums a little.